Life is a very peculiar thing; you roll into Zuni, Winsdor and Waverly on an early July morning and you see the first faint rays of the rising sun playing on miles and miles of healthy potato vines and you are glad for the Tidewater Virginia truck farmer. You rattle along farther down the road wondering just how all of those acres of corn that greet your eyes are going to be worked and gain you are glad for the farmer and so you pull on into Norfolk in the afternoon and find them giving potatoes away by the carloads and retailing corn for 6 cents a dozen ears and you wonder how they do it and you feel sad for the poor farmers in Zuni, Winsdor and Waverly.
Any mountain man will get an indside [sic] story of the San Francisco Long Shoremen's Strike after seeing the hundreds of idle Stevedore's along Green Street in Portsmouth and down Chapel Street in Norfolk. Each one is anxious to tell the story urged on by a modes dose of "Whiskey Blend" or "Frontier" from the near by "A B C."
Placards in Employment Agency Windows tell of the huge crews now at work in the navy yards and how such a job might be obtained. A visit to the yard throws you in contact with lean looking, restless young men making 40 hours to the month.