Journal Entry # 30
June 14, 1856


The summer nights are warm with freedom. I have sent a family of four to the next station and have received word that in a couple of days more slaves will arrive. It has gotten lonely out here; there is usually no one to talk to. When I go into town I talk to some of the locals but in the end I still feel lonely. The town’s people do not feel the same about the runaways. I hear talk about sending slaves back if a runaway is found. I just listen and I don’t comment because I don’t want to start a riot. I usually don’t say anything because something might slip and others will find out that I am helping runaways. The Fugitive Slave Act will also affect people like me that are trying to help the slaves. It’s best I not talk with others to avoid confrontation. I remember looking forward to meeting people in town. We would discuss what life was like before the north and south disagreed. We could laugh and joke around without getting into fights.

I am usually kept busy by helping the runaways and moving supplies to my house. So far I have a count of thirteen slaves that I have helped. I don’t usually talk to them because I don’t want to know a lot about them. Not knowing their identity will keep them safe. Because I am a station master I do not see as many people as one would if they lived in a town. I wish I could play card with someone and discus politics. The loneliness must get to me sometimes. Some of the runaways told me that I was sitting and talking to my self like there was another person in the room. I tell them that I do not remember and to me it is like nothing ever happened. I may just be going crazy in these woods but I am truly lonely because of what I think is right.
Master .34