Photograph of Charles Carr. The back of the photograph contains this lengthy handwritten obituary: "To the eternal honor and glory of Charles Carr, Whittier Calif. For the triumphant victory of the cause he so valiantly strove to help win for all. Born in Texas. Family fled to Wyoming in the 1870s. The children walked to school six miles (12 mi.) daily, oft times in snow storms & even blizzards. A coal miner in the vast N.W. Then after wanderings all over U.S. settled in Idaho. Organized the boiler makers -- now his trade -- of the Great Northern R.R. The fascist bosses reward him with charges of criminal syndicalism. Trumped up fakery. 3-1/2 years in the pen. Out. Returns to his home, Pocatello. In a few years the co. assessors tax him out. To So. Calif. Builds small shack on Beverly Blvd. & San Gabriel River. At east end of 500 foot, Beverly Blvd. Bridge. Wine OK & riff raff cook & sleep -- a la paste boards, under the structure. C.C. settles fights. Gives foods to the starving. Works for the 'white' for miles around. Gardening, etc. Has beautiful flower garden of his own. The flood of 1937 lapped at his doorway. He now lived half way between Jim Town, south, on the river and Pio Pico Park a mile east on the Hondo River, descendants of Governor Pico's reign. In between now came the good whites and the 'lily' whites. Many & devious were the attempts to roust him, oust him, implicate, plot and infuriate.; Charles lived and thrived, a true ruler in his own domain. Many were the gifts tossed to him by the colored men on the U.P. trains running 'next door.' Children loved him. Played checkers with him. Left their b-b guns & duds with him while playing & swimming up river. In 1947 the wooden bridge burned down. At 10 A.M. C.C. later told me, a pick up truck drove furiously past. Then stopped several hundred feet away. Planted a fierce burning flare between two planks & sped on. I was in the hospital in Whittier. A new man came in the ward. Told the story of the famed bridge, and 'they think the old nigger there, burned it.' I shouted that could not be and must not be so charged. That I'd know(n) him more than 15 years, and even the 'law' had declared he was the clean person of the whole community, and kept down the law-breaking elements. This, when the St. Helen's Petroleum Company tried to frame him. Now and then he would permit white people from other parts to camp there. Would lend them his wash tubs, ironing board & stove. In 1950 a very sweet dear fine white woman came there. Out of work. C. moved to shed. She took his bed. And board. They lived a beautiful idyllic life till she died about 1954. C. was murdered in The Gen'l Hosp. In 1955. By hospital neglect -- gangrene! Fascism!!!!! By aid of Edison Company."
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