This was what my father left me, this lousy old suitcase! And on the inside was nothing,...

Harvey 'Big Daddy' Pollitt: This was what my father left me, this lousy old suitcase! And on the inside was nothing, nothing but his uniform from the Spanish-American war. That was his legacy to me! Nothing at all! And I built this place from nothing. Brick Pollitt: That was all he left you? Harvey 'Big Daddy' Pollitt: He was a hobo, the best-known tramp on the boxcar circuit. He'd worked once in awhile as a field hand, and I'd tag along. Sat on my bare bottom in the dirt, waiting for him. Outside of hunger, the first thing I remember is shame. I was ashamed of that miserable old tramp. I was riding boxcars with him when I was nine, something you never had to do. You'll never have to bury me the way I buried him. I buried him in a meadow alongside a railroad track. He was running to catch a freight and his heart give out. You know something? That old tramp died laughing. Brick Pollitt: Laughing at what? Harvey 'Big Daddy' Pollitt: Himself, I guess. Old hobo tramp, not a nickel to his name, no future, no past. Brick Pollitt: Maybe he was laughing because he was happy. Happy at having you with him. He took you everywhere. He kept you with him. Harvey 'Big Daddy' Pollitt: I don't want to talk about that. [pause] Harvey 'Big Daddy' Pollitt: Yeah, I loved him. I reckon I never loved anything as much as that lousy old tramp. Brick Pollitt: And you say he left you nothing but a suitcase with a uniform in it? Harvey 'Big Daddy' Pollitt: And some memories. Brick Pollitt: And love.