The oldest marker I could find
was for a baby girl named Sarah Emily Pennall, age 9 months, 3 days - died 13
Sept, 1843. She is buried in Section A South of the old part of the cemetery.
One Friday afternoon on his way home from work my Dad saw us playing in the
cemetery. The next day he went fishing. Afterwards he sent me to his garden to
dig potato's. He grabbed some large onions and away we went. You can imagine my
surprise when we arrived at the Hobo Camp on Bayou Avenue by the railroad
tracks. That night the hobos had fish, potatoes, and onions for supper.
That
night I learned some of the hobo's were just passing through town looking for
work. The Jungle is on the outskirts of town with a large open air space
available year round for traveling hobos. The old hobos carry on the old
tradition of working odd jobs, story telling, playing music and traveling. They
were friendly to us and did not seem to be of a violent nature. I also learned
next to the cemetery was a hobo jungle by the railroad track.
Taking to the rails was a way
of life for the hobo. He moved through the world, sometimes dressed in dirty
clothing. He usually always rode freight trains. Sometimes he would carry spikes
so the yardmen could not close the door on him.
The Hobo Camp in Minden was located on Bayou Avenue by the L&A Railroad track
behind the old Minden City Cemetery. I remember the sunny days when my
friends and I would run and play among the marker's trying to find the oldest
names and dates.
The oldest marker I could find
was for a baby girl named Sarah Emily Pennall, age 9 months, 3 days - died 13
Sept, 1843. She is buried in Section A South of the old part of the cemetery.
One Friday afternoon on his way home from work my Dad saw us playing in the
cemetery. The next day he went fishing. Afterwards he sent me to his garden to
dig potato's. He grabbed some large onions and away we went. You can imagine my
surprise when we arrived at the Hobo Camp on Bayou Avenue by the railroad
tracks. That night the hobos had fish, potatoes, and onions for supper.
That
night I learned some of the hobo's were just passing through town looking for
work. The Jungle is on the outskirts of town with a large open air space
available year round for traveling hobos. The old hobos carry on the old
tradition of working odd jobs, story telling, playing music and traveling. They
were friendly to us and did not seem to be of a violent nature. I also learned
next to the cemetery was a hobo jungle by the railroad track.
There are no signs left of the HoBo Jungle today
One Friday afternoon on his way home from work my Dad saw my friends and I playing in the cemetery. The next day he went fishing. Afterwards he sent me to his garden to dig potatoes. He grabbed some large onions and away we went. You can imagine my surprise when we arrived at the Hobo Camp on Bayou Avenue by the railroad tracks. That night the hobos had fish, potatoes and onions for supper.
Taking to the rails was a way
of life for the hobo. He moved through the world, sometimes dressed in dirty
clothing. He usually always rode freight trains. Sometimes he would carry spikes
so the yardmen could not close the door on him.
The Hobo Camp in Minden was located on Bayou Avenue by the L&A Railroad track
behind the old Minden City Cemetery. It is fun to remember the sunny days with
my friends running and playing among the marker's trying to find the oldest
names and dates.
The oldest marker we could find was for a baby girl named Sarah Emily Pennall, age 9 months, and 3 days. She died 13 Sept, 1843. She is buried in Section A South of the old part of the cemetery under the big Oak.
That night we learned some of the hobo's were just men passing through town looking for work. The Jungle is on the outskirts of town with a large open air space available year round for traveling hobos. The old hobos carry on the old tradition of working odd jobs, story telling, playing music and traveling. They were friendly to us and did not seem to be of a violent nature. This was how we learned there was a hobo jungle, behind the cemetery, near the railroad tracks.
My friend had a great Uncle Roy who lived in the hobo jungle for a while. He told her that the hobo jungle mosquito population grew so big that after they cooked at night they washed their iron kettle. Then they crawled under the kettle to keep the mosquitoes off them. They flew in and their beaks went through the kettle. They clamped them down and flew off with the kettle.
If you would like to share a memory send it to me at
or mail to
Sherry Gresham Gritzbaugh, 4507 Verone St. Bellaire, TX77401
The photograph of the cemetery marker was submitted by Ann Mays Harlan