
Similar to the Park Circle trolley cited in Rooby Tawr, Baltimore Transit Co. Streetcar No. 24 travels south on Roland Avenue past its intersection with Univer- sity Parkway in North Baltimore (c. early 1930s).
A Voice of Baltimore Feature, an excerpt from
ROOBY TAWR, a novel in progress
set in mid-20th Century Charm City
By Joel Foreman
It’s 1930. A crowd with drowsy early morning faces waits at a trolley stop in Northwest Baltimore a mile or two south of Park Circle. One of the faces is partially hidden and shuttered like a morning glory biding its time until the sun comes up.
This is Reuben Michael, known to friends and family as Ruby. He’s 30 and has a thick head of hair black as onyx. It’s long enough for a part-in-the-center brush-back, though this detail is concealed by the crown and wide brim of a hat snapped forward at a rakish angle.
As it’s chilly, Ruby has flipped up the collar of his sport coat to protect the skin above his shirt collar and bow tie. He warms his hands in his pants pockets, and though he hunches forward a bit, he’s still the tallest of the patiently waiting commuters. It’s a tall that’s more comforting than commanding. A kind of long-legged and agreeable nonchalance.
As the etiquette of the time and place calls for covert fleeting glances, most of the domestics heading toward their daily cleaning jobs take notice of the sole man among them. But just long enough to conclude: This white boy’s out of place. He oughter be going the other way. Downtown! To some office work.
One of the ladies thinks, If I didn’t know Rudolph Valentino died in ‘26, I’d suspect that was him waiting like the rest of us for the uptown No. 5. “The Sheik” hisself.
She resolves to report this bit of trivia to a friend later in the day.
Another of the ladies shooting a quick look at Ruby serves in a home where the menfolk have closets full of fancy duds. She judges that this one be making the best of some clothes that seen some miles. Knows how to care for them, though. Knows how to mix and match purty good. Knows how to make like he has more in his closet than he probably does.