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pencilled in top margin to Fallon from Blake Blake, James

Star Gospel Mission 474 Meeting St Charleston, S.C.

June 29. 56. Dear Brid -

    The six days I've been out have been nothing but a hell of anxiety, scrambling and scuffling.   The sawbuck I got at the joint is gone, and the guy who runs the mission here lets me stay in return for working around the joint, but the problem of eating has had to be solved by pilfering from supermarts.  How long I can can [sic] do that without detection is moot.  No loot has gone for lush, I can not only not afford it, but I've got to keep good health in this tight situation.
    Just can't get off the ground with no loot at all, and I dread pulling any jobs and going right back in.   The town's too small for anything fancy.  I've made connections with a couple of local musicians and they're trying to throw a job my way, but until it happens I'm hung up, high.
   I try not to despair, what the hell, I can't, there's too much I want to do - right now, though, it's hard to think of anything but something to eat and a place to stay.
  I'm sorry about the collect call, but I had to try something,  If you can help, and care to, I'll be at the mission - and if I'm forced to move on, I'll leave a Gen Del address wherever I head for.  Rough, baby.

Jim P.S. Wire if you can. If nothing at all, I'll understand. Or try to.