In the shoulder-bumping mass of humanity which surged its way into a Brooklyn subway station one evening last week was Oscar Winheld. Oscar Winheld, 65, an unemployed bricklayer, had been looking for work all day. Someone had given him the only nickel he had. He dropped it into a turnstile slot. He walked toward the landing platform. A special officer of the subway company laid his hand on Oscar Winheld's shoulder.
"What's that?" the officer asked, pointing to the magnifying glass near the coin slot.
"What?" asked Oscar Winheld. "I'm sorry. I've lost...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
