The bulk of the words in this post are not my own. My grandfather, James Edward Ackley Sr. (1902-1988) took the time to write down his life story near the end of his life. He was a terrific story-teller, and my words could never come close to telling the story of his runaway as a teenager as well as he does. The following is the story of how he and a friend ran away from home (Wauwatosa, Wisconsin, a suburb of Milwaukee) in May 1920 and spent the summer working on a steamer on the Mississippi River. Most of the words that follow are his; I have lightly edited and added a few notes that provide context for some of his comments. Here is my grandfather's story...
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| James Edward Ackley senior portrait, 1921 |
There comes a time in everyone’s life that you do something – that you are ashamed of. What I am about to put on this paper is such a time. I had one month to go to finish my junior year – I ran away from home. I had been skipping school for a week – caddying – to make enough money to buy a tuxedo – formal party. By Friday night of that week I had earned about 50 dollars – enough for the suit. At 7 o’clock that night I got a call from my friend Howie Morton – “Jim we are going to run away.” Howie's mother had caught him doing something she found unacceptable and all hell broke loose. One more phone call and our plans were made. We met at Kummers drug store with nothing more than the clothes on our back, and a total of $90.00 between us. Once our minds were made up, there was no turning back.
We took the street car to Milwaukee then to the North Shore depot and took the electric line to Chicago where we made our way to the Chicago & Alton railway depot. (While I write it comes to mind that the physical things I write about are long gone, the street car tracks & trestle, the North Shore electric line and the Chicago and Alton RR are gone). We spent the night sleeping on benches. When the agents window opened in the morning we bought tickets for St. Louis – why St. Louis, no one will ever know. I’m afraid Howie nor I ever had good grades in Mathematics – that $90.00 was going fast. We enjoyed the ride to St. Louis but realization came with a bang when we got off that train. Now what?
We spent that first day walking thru the business section, then found our way to a park where we spent the balance of the day. Some of what we did on the second day has slipped my mind but one thing was becoming very apparent – we were fast approaching bankruptcy. After breakfast on the fourth day – the money was gone. That day for the most part escapes my memory – except that as the day wore on came the realization – no lunch or supper money – and certainly no Y.M.C.A. for another night’s sleep. We did keep clean – up to a point – using the wash room in the depot. That night we gathered up newspapers and made our way to the Chicago and Alton freight depot – crawled underneath and spent the night on cold ground covered with newspapers.
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| The St. Louis levee in 1919. My grandfather would have encountered a similar scene in 1920. [1] |
We were up with the sun, and after stealing some fruit from a stand across the way, we knew something had to be done – find a job of some kind or head for home. This time we went down to the levee where boats were being loaded and unloaded. A man standing near the river watching the proceedings looked like authority, and we soon found out he had that authority, was most kind when we came over and talked. We ask him if there was any kind of work we could do – he smiled and said “boys look at the type of man you see working here” – all large, grown men. “Do you mind washing dishes and polishing brass?” Good heavens no. We went aboard his boat and that’s when we told him we had not eaten anything for a whole day. His cook prepared enough eggs – bacon and toast to last for more than a day. This man’s name was Jim Lax and believe me he knew what we were – run-aways. He wrote a note – told us where the office of the “Streckfus Lines” were – told us to present the note at the window and we would be taken care of. We received passes for the Chicago and Alton railway and our destination was Keokuk Iowa. [Blogger's note: My grandfather’s memory was pretty accurate here. There was a captain named Hilmar Lax who worked for the Streckfus Line in St. Louis. According to his obituary, he worked for Streckfus for 35 years and died in St. Louis in 1940.]
We located the steamer Capitol – it was to be our home for the next three months. We were indoctrinated to a life so foreign to anything we had ever experienced – it was almost frightening. The Capitol was a huge excursion steamer with a complete restaurant on the lower deck – a beautiful dance floor on the second deck – and living quarters and deck house on the upper deck. Once I set foot on the deck of that boat I never left it until we were ready to get off at LaCrosse to come home. The Capitol had not had an excursion on the day we arrived so our time was spent trying to get acquainted with some of the crew. We did have some success – but when we enquired about sleeping quarters – Surprise – go to the top deck – they will furnish you with a mattress and one blanket – you sleep on the dance floor. During the next few months I never experienced a warm or comfortable night’s sleep – but I learned to live with it.
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The steamboat Capitol was built in 1879 at Cincinnati, Ohio. It was originally named Pittsburgh. It was rebuilt in 1896 at Dubuque, Iowa and renamed Dubuque and ran for the Diamond Jo Line. Streckfus Lines took her over after she sank in 1901. She was converted by Streckfus into an excursion boat in 1920 at Keokuk, Iowa and finished out at Davenport, Iowa. and renamed Capitol. Capitol was dismantled at St. Louis, 1945. Image from University of Wisconsin – LaCrosse. [2] Ad for the maiden voyage of the Capitol out of Keokuk. Given the timing of his running away (end of his junior year in high school, which would have been May, 1920), it is probable that my grandfather and his buddy Howie were on the maiden voyage on June 4, 1920. Ad from The Daily Gate City Constitution-Democrat, Jun 3, 1920. [3] |
The next morning we were introduced to our chores. I was given rags and brass polish and was told that before I left any one section it should shine like the sun. That afternoon we had a large group of women for an excursion – they were also fed. At four o’clock that afternoon I was introduced to a chore so loathsome and monotonous, it should be eliminated from man’s way of living – washing dishes. Hundreds of them – greasy – dirty, but it was to be my main chore from then on. One thing happened that day that had its reward – I found a way to bathe and wash what few clothes I had. A cat walk along the huge rear paddle permitted me to get to a lower paddle – enough room next to the water to do whatever I wanted to do.
Things were a little monotonous that first week, but during that time an older man seemed to want to be a friend. He seemed to want to be sure no one took advantage of us. There were times when we helped him in some of his chores. During our third week we were steadying a tall ladder for him – he was changing bulbs in the ceiling of the dance floor. Two men in business suits walked across the dance floor toward us. When they were within talking distance, one of the men said, “Couch?” (That was our friends name). I pointed to the top of the ladder and this one man asked him to come down – he did. When he was on the deck this one man pulled out his wallet – opened it – and that’s when I saw the badge and identification. Couch never said one word – just started to walk off with this man. That’s when we asked the second man what that was all about. “Boys – that man murdered his wife – but the gruesome part of it all – he carved her up.” Kind, gentle Couch – what prompted that man into that situation.
On a pleasant note. Going from city to city – always new people – new scenery was so satisfying. One other plus – music – some of the finest bands I ever heard played for dancing. It would be a different band for each new town but they were all top flight musicians. Sometimes life on the boat became very monotonous – brass – dishes. [Blogger's note: My grandfather was a musician himself. He learned to play the piano at a young age and played background music for silent movies. He also played the organ at his church for many years. Unfortunately, I hadn't done the research that revealed the identity of one of the bands he heard on the Capitol. He would have been thrilled to know he had seen the incomparable Louis Armstrong at the beginning of his career.]
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| One of the bands my grandfather no doubt heard was the Fate Marable Band, pictured above on the Capitol in New Orleans in 1920. Members of the band: L-R: Henery Kimball, bass; Boyd Atkins, violin; Johnny St. Cyr, banjo and guitar; David Jones, sax and alto horn; Norman Mason, sax; Louis Armstrong, cornet; Norman Brashear, trombone; Baby Dodds, drums; Fate Marable, piano. That is the Louis Armstrong. Image from Louisiana Digital Library. [4] |
Before I forget – an incident with the dishes. One Sunday afternoon after an excursion – with lunch – the dishes were stacked mile high – greasy and grimy. I looked at them and said “Howie we will be two days cleaning this mess.” They had given me a key to the hold of the boat – so I could replace broken dishes. Now – washing dishes with a little dust – versus the grime – seemed like a good deal. With every tray of dusty dishes I brought up – a tray of the grimy ones went overboard – and part of the river bottom at Davenport Iowa is lined with porcelain.
It seemed that the police would come aboard every new town where we stopped. Someone was always being taken off the boat – I guess the river was a good place to hide.
I witnessed one of the biggest dice games ever played. [Blogger's note: I laugh every time I read that line. I'm sure the dice game was nowhere near the biggest dice game ever played, but I suppose in my grandfather's 17 year-old mind it seemed huge.] On our first pay-day the men were putting the long lunch tables in a row – blankets were spread over the surface – and chairs placed along the entire length of the tables. That night the entire crew – and many from off the boat gathered up and down the entire length of the tables – either seated or standing on chairs in back – there must have been a hundred men playing. They had six bankers to handle the dice and at seven o’clock that night it all started. It was hard to believe that there would be that amount of money to be gambled. It was real excitement all of the time. I went to bed long before it was over – when I got up the next morning there were four men still playing – and I was told that all the money gambled found its way in the pockets of these men. During those weeks I wished so often that I was home – my mother’s cooking – a warm bed to sleep in – but it was not to happen for a while. I made the best of it all – but one thing was becoming apparent – I was losing more weight than would be considered healthy for a man as thin as I was. We discussed more than once, our going home – but for one reason or another it never happened.
My senior year was not one of my best at Wauwatosa High. Our escapade of the previous summer did nothing to give us the friendship and understanding we needed to complete our senior year. We had at least five weeks of our Junior year to recover – no small task – but Mr. Kolb – the school super was very understanding and this was a big assist – our teachers were a big help. Getting back to a respectable social position was just a little difficult – it was hard for most people to understand why we did such a crazy stunt. Dating did not resume until the second month of our senior year. Gradually we were able to resume normal school living and we were able to enjoy our last year. Our make-up work consumed many extra hours. I played very little basketball – and all other activities were curtailed.
Blogger's note: The story does have a happy ending - my grandfather did make up all of the work he missed during his junior year and graduated on time with his class at Wauwatosa High School. His diploma is below.
