Along the edges of the Florida East Coast railroad, which slices through the center of Lake Worth, dwell the poorest of the poor. Spanish-mission bungalows peel and fade in the sun, and motor oil stains the sidewalks of the auto body shops and old warehouses. Gravel streets turn to dirt and disappear altogether in the clumps of weeds that choke the rail bed. And everywhere, cryptic graffiti — seemingly random numbers, letters, and symbols —... More >>>