The Campfire Girl & The Marxist, Pt. II (1915)
(And now, the thrilling conclusion of – “The Campfire Girl & The Marxist.”) THE ESCAPE PLAN The escape plan seemed so simple in its design that it was later wondered how it ever worked. Although the overall scheme of hopping freight trains headed west was plotted intimately with maps and the help of encyclopedias, the actual disguise plans and methods for eluding authorities was rather, well, sophomoric. But it worked. It seems that Max went down to a store on Fulton street, and there bought for Viola a pair of brown knickerbockers, a Norfolk jacket and a gray cap with a peak on it like a bicycle cap. Viola would look like a boy bicyclist. “He just guessed at the measurements,” said Bostick, adding with a knowing grin, “and I must say Max was a fine guesser.” When Max, Viola, and Andrew arrived at the Kowenhoven station of the Long Island Rail Road – for Andrew was an accomplice in their escape – Max made a suggestion that must have rankled Viola – that, to aid in their escape, she could roll her hair up and hide it under her cap. Viola, however, was having none of that. If she was going to be a boy, she was going to go the distance. She stated firmly that she wanted her curly locks shorn completely. So, there, under the archway of a railroad bridge, Max snipped off six “curls.” He kept three, bound in a handkerchief, and gave three of them […]
The Campfire Girl & The Marxist (1915)
******************************************************************************************************************************** Brownstone Detectives investigates the history of our clients’ homes. The story you are about to read was composed from research conducted in the course of one of those investigations. Do you know the history of YOUR house? ******************************************************************************************************************************** If nature were a fair goddess, she would have made some girls boys and some boys girls. Although most teenagers often go into their young adulthood trying to determine just who they are, some know it instinctively and early on from experiences that leave indelible etchings upon their souls. Viola Stevens was just such a girl. Although she was new to Hancock Street – and a bit serious for her years – she had initially proved herself to be very much like all of the other girls on the block. She loved nature, had boy “friends,” was a Campfire Girl, and had even, after some time, became a Woodcraft Girl. In other words, she spent nearly all of her 15 years doing “girl” things. In 1915, though, all of that changed when she did a very “boy” thing, which terrified her mother and excited the entire borough. She ran away – with a socialist. A MOTHER’S POINT OF VIEW No, of course. The “running away” bit was the actual catastrophe as far as her mother was concerned. The fact that the boy was a socialist simply added some salt to the wound. Any mother would tell you that her daughter is her world and that she is pure as the driven […]
