I went with him immediately. Three or four others were brought in: War John and Joe Pajammy, organizers. We were all taken down to the Santa Fe station. While standing there, waiting for the train that was to deport us, some of the miners ran down to bid me good-bye. "Mother, good-bye," they said, stretching out their hands to take mine.
The colonel struck their hands and yelled at them. "Get away from there. You can't shake hands with that woman!"
The militia took us to La Junta. They handed me a letter from the governor, notifying me that under no circumstances could I return to the State of Colorado. I sat all night in the station. In the morning the Denver train came along. I had no food, no money. I asked the conductor to take me to Denver. He said he would.
"Well," I said, "I don't want you to lose your job."
I showed him the letter from the governor. He read it.
"Mother," he said, "do you want to go to Denver?"
"I do," said I.
"Then to Hell with the job;" said he, "it's to Denver you go."
In Denver I got a room and rested a while. I sat down and wrote a letter to the governor, the obedient little boy of the coal companies.
