In May of 1897, with looming concerns over town finances in Johnston, discussions were taking place about the money that would be saved by closing down the town’s “poor farm.”

For those who depended on the safety net, a hard fall would cause inevitable suffering. But those who were too proud for charity were suffering already.

Thirty-seven year-old James Appleton resided on Green Street with his wife, Annie, and their three children, 4-year-old Marshall, 2-year-old Violet and baby Edward, who was almost 4 months old.

James spent much of his life employed in the restaurant industry, as a kitchen worker, a cook and a waiter. But he suddenly found himself out of work and the family’s income disappeared. On May 7, the chief of police visited the Appleton home. Little more than a dilapidated shack, it contained no food, no fuel and occupants clad in dirty rags.

The worst discovery the police chief made within the house was a dead body. The youngest child had passed away three days earlier, after suffering from malnutrition since birth, and lay just as he died, as life in the house went on around him. The other two children were on the brink of starvation.

The chief immediately contacted the State Board of Health, which sent an undertaker out to take custody of the remains and bury them within Grace Church Cemetery.

As the town was preparing to stop allotting money for the care of paupers, the Town Council announced that it would not pay for the burial of the child as the action had been ordered by the State’s Board of Health.

James Appleton had not applied for pauper’s relief when he lost his job. Some thought it would have been injurious to his pride. Now he didn’t have the option to do so. Concerned townspeople came together and collected money so that the family could purchase food, fuel and clothing.

The Appletons’ hardships didn’t end there. James eventually secured a job as a cook at the restaurant his sister Mary owned. Then, in August of 1899, he accepted a cooking position at the Girard Hotel. By this time, Annie had given birth to a son, Harold, who was now 2 years old, and she was pregnant again. The family had moved into a four-tenement house on Bancroft Street in Providence. Three weeks after he started the hotel job, James left for work and told Annie he’d be home early that evening. He didn’t come home. Two days later, Annie reported her missing husband to police.

An investigation showed that James had gone into work that afternoon but had been relieved of his position. Although the owner of the hotel didn’t want to get into details, it was insinuated that James had been fired for drinking.

Two weeks later, the body of a man washed up near Narragansett Pier. When Annie learned the unidentified man had a deformed hand, she was certain it was James. He had injured his right hand while working in a mill at Valley Falls.

James’s father and sister Sarah traveled to Rhode Island from Massachusetts to view the remains. Sarah determined the man was not James. The mystery man was taller, wore larger clothes and had a deformity of the left hand.

At some point, James returned to his wife and children, although no documentation detailing his disappearance has been located. He landed another hotel job, as a kitchen man, and moved his family into the hotel on Weybossett Street in Providence. A son, Raymond, was born that November but died the following September. Two years later, their 6-year-old daughter Violet died.

James sustained a job as a hotel chef until his late 60s. Due to a physical handicap, he became unable to work in 1928. He died at the State Infirmary in 1946.

The sufferings and struggles of those who depended on the town’s charity were public knowledge. The despair of those too ashamed to ask for help is lesser known.

Kelly Sullivan is a Rhode Island columnist, lecturer and author.