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Railroadman (1938)

di Chauncey Del French

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Railroadman is the biography of Henry Clay French, a 19th / 20th Century boomer, written by his son. French started his railroad career in 1873 as a messenger/call boy on the Hannibal & St. Joe which became part of the Burlington (CB&Q) and ended in May 1930 when he retired from the Union Pacific Railroad as a Switchman-yardmaster. In between those years French found himself working a variety of jobs for a number of railroads in the western United States. The book is very well written, the word pictures and level of detail hold the reader’s interest, and, the descriptions of the various events in French’s life are matter-of-fact without overtones of tall tales. Railroadman is one of three books (the other two being Brownie the Boomer by Charles Brown and Boomer by Linda Niemann) which I would class as “must -reads” for anyone interested in first person accounts of working for the railroad. See "Quotations" in Common Knowledge for an example of the writing style. (Text Length - 298 pages, Total Length - 298 pages.) ( )
1 vota alco261 | Sep 29, 2012 |
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The derail was as neat a death trap as human hands could devise. It was to be used only if the engine crews found that they had lost control of their train. A bluff at the end of the derail assured any engine crew a fine set of wings if they even went on out to the end of the track. As I inspected the derail I made up my mind that conditions would have to be very serious before I threw that death trap open. There was an operator a Clough Junction. I could not see why it would not be possible to wire that station and have a runaway train turned in on to the branch line there and so give the engineer time to get control. All this had to be predicated on no trains between Clough Junction and my station. In spite of my hopes of never being called upon to throw the derail the signal came the second night. A mournful whistle far up the hill told me of a downbound freight in distress. I opend the wire to Clough Junction. "Any train upbound?" I wired swiftly. "Nothing upbound." Clough Junction was on the job. "Set switch for branch and hold everything. Runaway by me," I wired. 'O.K.." Clough Junction wired back. I picked up my white lantern and stepped out on to the platform. The derail signal had been repeated several times. I knew that the engine crew would jump as soon as they saw the derail set red. As the engine swung around the curve into sight of the station I waved a high ball. I made it a real high ball - a fancy flourish on the tail-tip being my own design. I repeated the signal, waving the train on down the mountain to safety. Two fiercely exultant barks of the whistle answered my second signal. The engine crew hadn't jumped. I got a flying glimpse of the fire boy shaking his clasped hands - sign language for "Thanks." Back in the office, safe from flying debris, I watched the runaway thunder by, sparks flying from every wheel - a roaring, swaying symphony of uncontrolled power. The tiny station fairly bounced up and down under the rush of the speeding train. A few minutes later I was called by Clough Junction. "Runaway stopped on branch. All O.K."
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