Traveling Alone: When Early 20th-Century Kids Hit the Rails
In the early 1900s, American newspapers delighted in stories that would shock modern readers: children traveling long distances alone, navigating massive train stations, switching lines, and crossing state borders with little more than a handwritten tag or a tightly-held ticket.
It was a world in which the railroad tied the nation together — and where childhood independence, at least for some families, was not only expected but celebrated.
Three boys in the summer and autumn of 1902 captured this fascination: a 12-year-old traveling alone to Chicago, an 11-year-old fending off trouble in Union Station, and a 14-year-old Chicagoan making an educational tour of Europe entirely on his own. Their stories reveal an America in transition — modern enough to move children across vast distances, but still trusting enough to let them go.
Earl Dillon, Age 12 — A Handwritten Tag Across 500 Miles
(Chicago Tribune, June 18, 1902)
When twelve-year-old Earl Dillon boarded a train in Sedalia, Missouri, he carried no suitcase, no escort, and no precise plan — only the desire to reunite with his mother in Chicago after two years apart.
His grandfather pinned a carefully scripted note to his coat:
“This boy is traveling alone. Please see that he gets on right train for Chicago.”
Conductors noticed the tag immediately. One marked it “Via C&A from St. Louis” so that every transfer point would know where he was headed. From Warsaw to Sedalia, Sedalia to St. Louis, and St. Louis onward to Chicago, the boy moved steadily through the rail system — quietly shepherded by a chain of adults who understood the assignment.
Five hundred miles later, Earl stepped off the train at Polk Street Station into what he called the first “really big city” he had ever seen. At 6742 Evans Avenue, his mother and three siblings welcomed him home at last.
Image caption: Twelve-year-old Earl Dillon and the handwritten tag pinned to his coat during his 500-mile solo trip from Missouri to Chicago. Chicago Tribune, June 18, 1902.
Herbert Van Reth, Age 11 — Quick Thinking in Union Station
(St. Louis Republic, November 19, 1902)
A few months later, in St. Louis’s cavernous Union Station, 11-year-old Herbert Van Reth found himself in a more precarious situation.
Traveling alone from West Virginia to Kansas City after visiting his uncle, Herbert drew the attention of an older boy — “a tough-looking lad of about fourteen” — who first asked him for money and then tried to convince him to hand over his ticket.
Herbert refused both requests. When he finally showed the ticket, he held it in both hands, just out of reach.
What saved the day was the watchful eye of Station Matron Hunter, who had observed the interaction from a distance. She intervened, sent the older boy packing, and stayed with Herbert until his train departed safely.
Rupert Mason, Age 14 — A Lone American Tourist of the Old World
(Chicago Tribune, July 27, 1902)
Perhaps the most astonishing young traveler of 1902 was Rupert Mason, a 14-year-old Chicagoan who spent more than a year traveling Europe alone.
He had sailed from Chicago on a grain ship — one of the first to cross directly to Europe — and landed in Antwerp. From there, he studied at a boys’ school in Vevey, Switzerland, and later traveled through:
Northern Switzerland
Verona
Venice
Florence
Rome
Each day he chose a site, museum, or monument and studied it “as long as the subject required,” absorbing art and history directly from the world around him. When not studying, he wandered the streets observing people, language, and customs.
Fluent in French, German, and Italian, he planned to continue traveling until Christmas before either returning home or moving on to Germany for more formal schooling.
His mother admitted that he sometimes grew homesick, but said, “He is determined to stick it out.”
Why It Matters
The stories of Earl, Herbert, and Rupert offer a window into a world where:
Railroads were the arteries of the nation, linking families across enormous distances.
Childhood was understood as a period of early responsibility, not prolonged dependence.
Mobility—born of migration, work, and opportunity—reshaped families, forcing children into roles requiring maturity and resilience.
Communities played an active part in helping a child “get where he was going.”
Today, sending a child across a crowded station alone is unthinkable. But in 1902, these journeys were badges of courage—and reminders that America’s modern landscape of transportation, safety, and childhood norms was still taking shape.