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1
was on
the
ORPHAN TRAIN
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A cnsts grows over the "adoption triangle"-the adopted, their biological parents,
their new families. We asked vibrant 87-year-old Henrietta Wiens to tell
about her life as an orphan, in the hope it may help other adopted persons.
A
THE TURN
of the cen–
tury "orphan tra ins"
we r e r u nni ng from
New York City to the Amer–
ican heartland.
During a span of about 50
years, 100,000 children were
placed on farms and in villages
in the Midwest. 1 was one of
that 100,000.
l mmigrant families were arriv–
ing from Europe, seeking a better
life. The Homestead Act of 1862
brought many to the land of
opportunity. But opportunity of–
ten stopped knocking in New
York City when immigrants
found themselves running out of
funds with whicb to continue their
journeys. There was desertion,
poverty and sometimes death.
The orphanages were soon
extremely overcrowded. The Chil–
dren's A id Society was formed
and with it the idea was born of
finding bornes for these cbildreri
in the American Midwest, bornes
where they hopefully would be
loved, given an education and the
opportunity to grow up into
responsible, useful citizens. The
Children's Aid Society, in cooper–
ation with the railroads, began
moving the children west. Adver–
tising had preceded these orphan
t rains. Word had spread far and
April 1984
wide. 1 was on a train that Jeft
New York City in June of 1902.
1Journey West
Excitement ran high that morn–
ing. Although 1 was only 5 years
old, 1 sensed this was far from a
normal day at the orphanage. 1
was bewildered as the man in the
wbite coat pushed up my sleeve
and stuck a sharp instrument into
my arm.
That hurt!
Years later 1 was to learn 1 had
been vaccinated against small–
pox.
Next, my curls were being cut
off! Wbat was happening to me?
The girls were all dressed alike. All
the boys wore similar shirts and
trousers. We were each given a
small piece of luggage, which we
had to carry. Though 1 was very
frightened by what was happening
to me, 1 had learned in the orphan–
age to do as I was told. I did not ask
questions.
We left the large white house
with its white picket fence.
It
was
the only heme 1 had ever known.
We soon arrived at the train sta–
tion. Twenty-five of us boys and
girls were placed on the train.
After a long wait, we began to
move.
The older children were to look
after the younger, and I, age 5,
quickly attached myself like a leech
to a tall, gangly freckle-faced boy
of
14.
1
was sure he would help
me.
l t was not long before 1 became
train-sick and vomited al! over him.
Each coach had an attendant and
much to his disgust, the boy was
told to clean up the mess. But 1
sensed his sympathy for me. He
was always kind and always took
my hand when necessary. After
many long, tiresome days we
reached our destination- the small
town of Exeter, Nebraska.
We were taken to the town hall
and lined up on a platform. The
train was to remain in the area sev–
era! days while prospective
adoptive parents took one or more
children borne with them.
If
all
went well, the child would be able
to stay with the new parents. If not,
the children were taken to another
town.
We children were, 1 learned lat–
er, to be given at least an eighth–
grade education and were not to be
mistreated. Many had come to see
us simply out of curiosity. Sorne
were looking for free labor. Yet
there were those who genuinely
wanted to give a needy child a lov–
ing heme.
Selected Out of the Crowd
In the throng of people were an
older couple in their early 60s.
They had never had a child of their
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