Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 41, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 December 1908 — RENSSELAER YOUNG MAN A STUDENT OF “HOMELESS MEN” [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]
RENSSELAER YOUNG MAN A STUDENT OF “HOMELESS MEN”
Impersonates Tramp and Sleeps With Hoboes While Learning Habits of Bum at Baltimore.
Blaine Gwin is the son of Jesse C. Gwin, the lumber merchant, and a brother of Dr. M. D. Gwin, of this city. He graduated last June from Indiana University and at once went to New York and took up his work with the board of associated charities. He later went to Baltimore, Maryland, and became identified with the work there. The accompanying pictures and the appended write-up
are from the Baltimore News, through whose courtesy the Republican is permitted to print the cut; That Blaine is improving his opportunities In the east with the same grit that characterized his determination to get an education Is evident, and his man" friends here are pleased to know that be Is making himself felt in the great cities of the east. Here' is the article" just as ft appeared In the Baltimore News on Dec. Ist plsvuised as a hobo, J. Blaine Gwin, graduate of the Indiana University I and of the New York School of Philanthropy recently spent a night In the Friendly Inn as Vie agent of J. W. Magruder, general secretary | of the Federated Charities, to learn just how homeless men sent to that [ Institution are treated. The Federated Charities has nothing to do with the control of the Friendly J Inn, which is an independent* charity with its own board of directors and makes ends meet with subscriptions and the profits from firewood cut by. inmates. What the Federated | Charities wanted to know was that men stent to the Friendly Inn from J the office were properly treated and given a square deal. Mr. Gwin who is an assistant agent of the Charities, .accepted the commission eagerly, for, as he said afterward, he knew It would bring him In contact with a class of men he is studying, his ultimate aim being to specialize in philanthropic work. For a week he let bls beard grow—but here is his own story: “With a week’s beard on my face and my hair roughed and tousled, I rubbed make-up grease into my skin to appear as dark aa possible, put spots on my face and made my bands dirty with good, every-day dirt Then I dressed the bum from bead to foot, I had an old pair of shoes on, full of holes, and an old black felt hat that had newer seen worse days. My blue suit didn’t fit at any point, my coat was short and I wore no collar. My sox were full of holes, and I looked about aa down in the world as it was possible for a man to look. Shuffling through the streets In the character I had araumed ft
I reached the Friendly Inn at 4 o’clock, too late to work for the evening meal. I applied for the accommodations of the place and was told, that while there would be nothing for me to eat that night, I could stay all night and have breakfast, in return for which I was to saw wood in the morning. “I found that they have chapel twice a week, and that night was
chapel night. I and 12 other men there had to go up to chapel—that was a regulation and the men had no choice. Six pretty girls sang and two preachers spoke to the way-’ farers, and when the invitation was extended to those who wished to lead better lives three men held up their hands. “Promptly at 9 o’clock we were herded to an altogether shower bath in group. There were no private porcelain tubs, with perfumed soap and Turkish towels, but we had a "ood, soapy, cleansing scrub, and the dirtiest hobo there appreciated it. I heard one man say that one good thing about the Friendly Inn was that a fellow could get a clean up. While we were bathing our clothes were taken from us, chained Into separate bundles and thrown into a sul-phur-fumigating room adjoining the bath. Then each man got a clean towel and a clean nightgown, and we were all shown to bed on individual cots—clean cots, each with its blanket rolled up at the foot and with a hard straw pillow. The pillow went a little rough with me, not having been used to It, but the cot was comfortable, and I slept like a log until morning. “At 5:80 we were all called to work. We went straight to the wood yard, where we got down to business and sawed wood. While we were working attendants passed us black coffee and one slice of bread as a bracer, but that was not our breakfast. We.' got that later. I discovered that I was supposed to saw 10 sticks of wood for a lodging and four for a meal, so I went at my 14 sticks, sawing each Ihto five pieces, and then splitting and piling it up. I cut my left thumb with the axe and blistered'my hands, but didn’t mind a little thing like that It took me just 1 hour and 40 minutes to do my work, and If you figure that out at the proper economic ratio you'll find that a man at the Friendly Inn earns everythiug hg rate and gets •verything he emhos. It’s just abtffrr an even break and a square deal. I think. j, , wvHt WW went 'Wf breakfast,
and I was personally in excellent trim to eat anything. Our breakfast consisted of plenty of good coffee and exceptionally good bread and a bowl of vegetable soup made thick and nourishing. The breakfast was all any man could eat, and the materials were good. “The men, while they are in the house, are compelled to remain in a sort of library and reading-room, and cannot wander about the place. I wanted to see a little something the first night I was there and got out of the room on an exploring expedition. One of the attendans caught me and ordered me back. It went aga’nst my grain and I gave him a little argument, for I had not been used to being ordered around, but finally I went. I discovered through that
experience that they enforce their rules. No swearing or rough talk is allowed, no Equor Is allowed In the place and no smoking. The regulations are posted on the walls, but if one cannot read he gets oral instructions which are plsdn and emphat c. “I got Irto codvei nation with the men, who sat about the reading-room telling stories. Having traveled the Western states, it was easy for me to talk like a hobo, and I exchanged experiences with the rest The men talked mostly about how they got, from place to place and related j their experiences in train riding and begging. Stealing was not brought up in the running talk. The dozen men there that night were healthy and strong, and langhed and joked merrily when once the yarns were started. They Impressed me as a class of men who had once held good . positions, and practically all of them lost out through drink. “Several of them had just erne in by train, and one who was particularly dirty from train grime said the Friendly Inn was better than anything he got at Cincinnati or Philadelphia. One man told mo he was married and had left his wife and child in New York because he could riot support them. I suspect there were others who were there because of domestic troubles, but they wouldn't admit it. “My conclusions are that at the Friendly Inn every man, as I said before, earns all he gets and gets all he earns. I hope some scheme can be developed that will make It possible for the Federated Charities arid the Friendly Inn, working together, to do something for the hobo individually. “We are now able, as an organized charity, to deal with families, but we can’t just get at the homeless man. Back of his social downfall there Is a reason for things—there is a first cause or a contributing influence—and if we could reach It' it we could get into the private -•auras of .mgn’a inisfortune, we could correct by oounter-influencd- Knd 4
start him on his way again as an independent, manly citizen, with the right and capacity to earn a living and to demand the respect of his fellows. The homeless man is the biggest proposition in specialized charity today.” Mr. Gwin, after being graduated from the Indiana University and the New York School of Philanthropy, became a visitor for the Associated Charities in Cincinnati during the summer of 1907 and came to Baltimore as an assistant agent of the Federated Charities four months ago. Since going into the active field he has made the study of the Individual homeless man his specialty.
