CHAPTER 6. LIFE AT HARD LABOR—THE HOPI 87
truck the man who picked cotton to keep sober was discussing the merits of different brands of liquor with another picker. This man was telling of going to a town upon receiving a paycheck as a "gandy-dancer" on the railroad, going to the police and asking how much the fine was for being "drunk and disorderly." They said it was $17.50, so he paid it at once, for he intended to get drunk and disorderly.
I did not hear the rest of the story, for the truck soon passed lateral twenty, near where I lived. I proceeded homeward with $3.93 for two part-days spent in the cotton fields. Later in the day, sitting in my doorway resting, I was asked by a man who drove up in a car to work for him for a week, irrigating, at $7.20 per twelve-hour night. Gladly I was willing to let this two part-days of cotton picking suffice. Good pickers can make from $8 to $12 a day, but I was not in that class.
First Picketing
In May of 1948 the Freedom Train came to Phoenix. I felt that as they had invaded "my territory" I ought to say something about the lack of freedom for conscientious objectors, Negroes and Indians. I made some signs and went forth with CW's. About 5000 people were moving inch by inch in the crowded blocks. Shouts of "Communist," "How much does Stalin pay you?" etc. came at me. "Hello, you Communist s.o.b." said one man. My reply was "I'm not that kind of a s.o.b." The crowd laughed and no one was hurt.
Toward the afternoon the American Legion was handing out copies of a forty-eight page comic book put out by Catholic fascists calling names at the Communists. I felt a surge of hatred towards me. One man came up and said "I could knock you down." I answered quickly "You have the right to knock me down and I have the right to picket: that makes us even." Many students asked me questions. An ex-chief of police asked me what I was trying to do and I said that I was trying to prove this was a free country.
About 7 p.m. the police stopped me and said the police captain wanted to see me. After a crowd had gathered and I waited he said that the captain had changed his mind, so I continued my picketing. Later a Franciscan priest told me that the police had phoned him at 7 p.m. that evening asking about my picketing and giving out the CW. He told them that the CATHOLIC WORKER was a good paper and this was a free country so why were they arresting me. The next Sunday he praised my picketing, at mass, in the big St. Mary's church and we became good friends. He had spoken at the Freedom Train but I had not seen him.
When I was sixteen years of age, I had written a page entitled WHAT LIFE MEANS TO ME. I had used this title because my favorite author Jack London, had written a pamphlet with that title. The substance of my belief in 1916 was: On with the Revolution; there is no God, Churches are opium for the people.
Now on June 1, 1948 I wrote a page listing my attitude on life. Following are the issues that seemed to me most important:
