A Beat SJ Xmas
Image by Geoth on Flickr
It's not North Beach, but SJ has its own legacy of Beat Literature from the 1950s. And perhaps none is more stirring than this dreamy, little-remarked passage from Jack Kerouac's The Dharma Bums, in which the narrator hitches a (literal and spiritual) ride on a southbound Xmas Eve train, beginning his SJ-to-LA journey from the sidings of the old Southern Pacific station downtown.
Late Monday afternoon I was at the San Jose yards and waited for the afternoon Zipper due in at four-thirty. It was its day off so I had to wait for the Midnight Ghost due in at seven-thirty. Meanwhile as soon as it got dark I cooked my can of macaroni on a little Indian fire of twigs among the deep dense weeds by the track, and ate. The Ghost was coming in. A friendly switchman told me I'd better not try to get on it as there was a yard bull at the crossing with a big flashlight who would see if anybody was riding away on it and would phone ahead of Watsonville to have them thrown off. "Now that it's winter the boys have been breaking into the sealed trucks and breaking windows and leaving bottles on the floor, wreckin that train."
I sneaked down to the east end of the yard with heavy pack slung on, and caught the Ghost as she was coming out, beyond the bull's crossing, and opened the sleeping bag and took my shoes off, put them under my wrapped-up balled-up coat and slipped in and slept beautiful joyous sleep all the way ; to Watsonville where I hid by the weeds till highball, got on again, and slept then all night long flying down the unbelievable coast and O Buddha thy moonlight O Christ thy starling on the sea, the sea, Surf, Tangier, Gaviota, the train going eighty miles an hour and me warm as toast in my sleeping bag flying ; down and going home for Christmas. In fact I only woke up at about seven o'clock in the morning when the train was slowing down into the L.A. yards and the first thing I saw, as I was putting my shoes on and getting my stuff ready to jump off, was a yard worker waving at me and yelling “Welcome to L.A.!”
Go Deeper:
Remembering: On CA's first recorded Christmas—fish dinners, gift exchanges, and “joyful” celebration
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