Junk Dealer Finds Gold In Hobo Story

When Spokane flyboy Scott O’Grady landed at Auntie’s Bookstore in 1995 to sign copies of his book, “Return With Honor,” the fans lined up with money in hand.

A national symbol after being shot down over Bosnia and then rescued, O’Grady sold 400 copies - an Auntie’s sales record that still stands.

That statistic will help you appreciate the literary force that rocked Moses Lake last month like a tornado in a trailer park.

Enduring a blistering sun, an army of buyers stood in line outside a junkyard office and a downtown art center to snatch up 1,000 copies of a just-released autobiography. That sales figure has doubled since then.

Ask anyone in the publishing biz. They’ll tell you such book buying frenzies are rarer than a first-edition “King Lear.”

But here’s the biggest shocker:

This 310-page hot seller doesn’t contain an ounce of celebrity scandal, graphic violence or naked photographs of Madonna.

“Once a Hobo …” (Proctor Publications, LLC, $25) is the G-rated life story of Monte Holm, a humble guy who went from riding the rails to making it big in junk. The book is written by Holm and Dennis Clay.

“I’m selling 40 or 50 copies a day just sitting here,” Holm, 84, says, chuckling heartily during a telephone interview. “If I’da known the book business was so good, I’da gone into it instead.”

“Once a Hobo …” isn’t “Gone With the Wind.” What this book rush reveals is how much Monte Holm means to the 14,500 residents who call Moses Lake home.

He is King of the Road here, perhaps as close as Eastern Washington has to a living legend.

City fathers, in fact, declared Sept. 18 “Hobo Day” to coincide with the book release. The local paper helped boost the fervor by printing tome-sized excerpts and Holm-related feature stories five days before the Big Event.

“It’s all so gratifying,” says Holm, who is married to Ruth, his wife of 60 years. “I’m getting letters every day and calls from all over. The best part is how much people tell me they like the story.”

That story is about Holm’s triumph over poverty and desperation.

Holm ran away from a cruel stepmother at age 13. He joined thousands of grim-faced wanderers who froze in bread lines and hopped freight trains during the Great Depression in hopes of finding a better life.

The experience shaped him and, as he often says, gave him compassion for others.

For nearly 50 years, he has run Moses Lake Iron and Metal. The business has earned him a fortune, although he would never speak of such a thing.

Holm is also founder and curator of The House of Poverty Museum, one of the region’s most amazing roadside curiosities.

The attraction is a few steps from his litter-strewn office. Just ask and Holm, in his trademark sweater and dark brown hat, will let you gawk at the goodies he has amassed.

“When I kick the bucket there’s gonna be one helluva mess to clean up,” he told me, when I stopped to see the House of Poverty Museum one afternoon five years ago.

There are thousands of gewgaws strewn about: A sewing machine owned by a member of the Jesse James Gang. A gun that came over on the Mayflower. Branding irons. Ancient farm machinery. A 1917 Mitchell automobile. Paintings. Jewelry. Clothes from bygone eras.

Holm even has his own railroad with a 200-ton steam engine. One of the passenger cars carried Presidents Woodrow Wilson and Harry Truman.

For decades, untold school kids, church groups, Scouting organizations and miscellaneous visitors have toured the museum.

Holm usually has a pot of Hobo stew bubbling in his office. You can find him there, puttering away seven days a week.

“The Good Lord meant it for you to work until you die,” says the old man who was once a hobo, “and that’s just what I plan to do.”