Ledbetter and Lomax set out on an arduous journey to record in Arkansas, Alabama, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Texas – primarily on prison farms overwhelmingly holding Black prisoners. Ledbetter learns some tunes for which he will later become famous, including “The Rock Island Line.” The strain of their grossly unequal relationship wears Ledbetter down, even as Lomax’s hopes to present the performer to northern audiences build. This chapter explores Ledbetter’s musical aspirations, from his early years as a child prodigy to his time in the Dallas area with Blind Lemon Jefferson.

Despite the publicity, reporters do not investigate the arrest, just five years earlier, that landed Ledbetter in the Louisiana State Penitentiary. This chapter does so, looking at his arrest in Mooringsport on January 15, 1930 and at the protracted, but ultimately unsuccessful, legal battle waged on Ledbetter’s behalf by a white law firm. On the basis of the evidence, and unpublished drafts of the Lomaxes’ book, it seems that the Lomaxes, too, had reason to doubt the story as edited for their book.

Chapter Seven focuses on African-American representations of transiency. Black transients suffered from the same problems of poverty and hunger as whites but they had to contend with the added problems of racial discrimination and state-sanctioned violence. They were also, to varying degrees, barred from hobohemian subculture. Black transients were entirely excluded, for example, from the publishing market for book-length hobo memoirs. This chapter seeks out representations of transiency in black vernacular music, particularly, though not exclusively, the blues. I argue that examining the lyrical content of black vernacular music changes the cultural representation of the hobo because blues is more sexually explicit, contains more examples of female empowerment, and places a stronger emphasis on the road as a place of violence than do white written accounts. The romanticisation of the road that is common in white hobo memoirs is largely absent from black vernacular music, in which concerns about needing to leave town, often to escape an awkward romantic situation but sometimes to escape from the violence of the railroad police, loom large.