Still struggling as 1993 loomed, I asked the Bishop of Derby to post-
pone my ordination so that I could go home and finish the book that sum-
mer. I lived with my parents and commuted to Dartmouth College's li-
brary. Suddenly surrounded by more than theological tomes, I read far
too widely and intensely. Important discoveries were the works of
Philippe Bourgois and Loïc Wacquant. In addition, I gained access to cen-
sus data for Clarendon Heights and the surrounding city. I agonized over
how to present the new material, made several false starts, and went back
to England to start my ministerial post in Chesterfield less than half fin-
ished with the book.

This past year and a half has been crazy. Immersed in a poor parish in a
declining mining and industrial town, I met plenty of indigenous hallway
hangers. I began working with disaffected teenagers in addition to my
full regimen of visiting, counseling, praying, funerals, baptisms, and Sun-
day services. But still I had the unfinished manuscript hanging over my
head. I snatched bits of time in between my ministerial duties to work on
it. My sermons began to sound like sociology essays and the book began
to preach. Meanwhile, the patience of Dean Birkenkamp, my Westview
editor, was wearing thin. I also wore out friends within and without the
ranks of academia with drafts of chapters for their comments. Now, fi-
nally, with 1995 upon us, I print this file for what I trust is the last time.

I hope this book does justice to the young lives of the Brothers and the
Hallway Hangers. I hope it provokes further study and sparks a critical
attitude toward the American socioeconomic system. Most of all, I hope it
spurs readers to struggle for a society that doesn't trample on the aspira-
tions of its people.

-148-