Railroaders' Nostalgia > My old job... (a looong time ago!)

Over the years a few of my favorite railfan photos have come in what we call the “last-gasp” hours of daylight, or rather twilight. I really can’t remember who first coined the phrase, but it originated with one of the 6 of us 1980s Kansas Gang pals. I suppose it was our collective propensity to take a playfully sarcastic attitude toward just about e-v-e-r-y thing. We would grab onto a given phrase and with our mass and always zany mentality adapt it to this great hobby of ours called railfan photography. And yes, we are most guilty of swiping selected lines from our favorite off-the-wall comedy flicks, also adapting them with our delightfully ‘sick’ senses of humor into our particular brand of railfan parlance.

I’m happy to say that I’ve successfully helped to pass quite a bit of this railfan humor on to a few of the current & very talented crop of Kansas’ “youngster” railfans. While out with my young partner mg8711 getting this sequence of shots I believe the term ‘last gasp’ popped up like it was second nature (which it now is-again). But if truth be known this train was actually the 2nd last-gasp train we shot. It came along right on the heels of our 1st last-gasp train. Check this out: ( http://www.trainorders.com/discussion/read.php?1,3886308 ). Look at mg8711’s images 9-11 in this thread. But hang on just a dern minute! This 2nd last-gasp train (my shots below) wasn’t our LAST last-gasp train. We shot yet a 3rd last-gasp train. Now check out mg8711’s image 12. A very fine piece of last-laster-lastest-gasp photography, indeed…

I told that story, so now I can tell this one: My shots below (a train mg8711 did not post) show the BNSF mainline local which currently runs as a turn out of Emporia. It runs down to at least El Dorado and (I believe) sometimes as far as Mulvane on a turn-around basis. A while back yours truly worked Santa Fe’s main line local trains 1311-12 as a regular job. In those days (late 1980) my version of this main line local went on duty at 11:30 PM in Emporia. We had pick-up and/or set-out work at El Dorado, Augusta, Mulvane & Winfield on the way to our Arkansas City endpoint terminal. Our runs south (TT west) could usually be completed 8-10 hours. But the late on-duty time & the uncertainty of being a local on a busy mainline meant the job could be had with pretty low seniority (pick me). For the return trip north (TT east) we usually went back on duty right on our 8 hours rest. We routinely skipped Mulvane and ran straight up the Douglas District between Winfield & Augusta. We still worked Winfield, Augusta & El Dorado. And occasionally we would have a “scorcher” of a trip and get back into Emporia in 6 hours or less.

At this point a very memorable event needs to be described. One night we came rolling eastbound up the Douglas District with a pretty long train, probably 70-80 cars. This meant we would have to cut off and leave our train just outside town, stopping back far enough to keep clear of US hwy 77 after picking up a dozen cars. My braking partner, who had the portable radio (“pak-set”) walked over across the 4th District’s 2 main tracks to the small yard to get our pick-up cars laced up & handbrakes off. I was the one who had to go back there in that darkness and make the cut so we could enter town with our 4 lite units. We would cut off, run up to & through the crossover plant where the DS would line us back down the westbound main to the Mobil Refinery lead switch. It was dark as you-know-what as I was walking back. I failed to notice the cab door of the rear-facing 4th unit was swinging open. I grabbed onto the hand rail and reached down & in the close the engine’s angle cock, a highly routine move. As I was in my most vulnerable physical position this deeply booming baritone voice right above me said: “Where are we?” If hadn’t had a strong grip on the hand rail I would have shot straight up in the air at least 27 feet, 6½ inches smashing the world’s record for a standing vertical jump. Had I eaten supper any more than a couple of hours before going on duty at Ark City I would have… well… you can guess the rest of THIS one. (…something about soiled britches…)

After the electric buzz of instant terror finally stopped rippling up & down my entire spine I realized the voice belonged to an old hobo who was merely trying to go ‘somewhere better’. I told him where he was and what we were doing. He very politely returned a “thanks” and got back in the cab. I made the cut and lantern-signaled my engineer to ‘take ‘em ahead’. During the course of our pick-up I got to thinking about this hobo. My braking partner & I got our pick-up together and I told him what I had in mind. He smiled knowingly and said: ‘Gotcha covered!” When he rode our pick-up out of the small yard in order to cross back over and shove back down to our train I walked over to the switchman’s shanty and unlocked the door. I went straight to the battered, but serviceable second-hand refrigerator. I had worked the daylight Mobil Refinery switcher a few times and remembered the regular Augusta switch crew usually kept sandwich makin’s in there. Bingo! I put together a hefty ham & cheese sandwich and swiped a can of Pepsi. I even found a small sack to carry my “loot” in. I locked up and walked back over to help protect the shove over the 77 highway crossing. My partner came rolling by me, perched on the rear tank car. He could easily make the radio joint. I stood with the sandwich & Pepsi about where I thought the rear unit would stop. I wasn’t very far off. I climbed the steps and entered the cab, turning on the overhead light. My hobo friend was sitting in the rear seat on the fireman’s side. I was a little bit stunned. It was a frail and elderly man, probably in his late 60s. I remember (only) thinking: “…so THIS is the voice that scared eleventy-seven years off my life!” I handed him the sack and bade him good luck. I can’t begin to describe the look of gratitude that swept across his face after he saw what was in the sack. As I exited the cab I could hear that deep baritone voice once more: “God bless you, son! God bless you…”

1. 2. & 3. BNSF 3005 rolls past the west switch at Aikman, KS with the Emporia-to-wherever & return mainline local. The date of the photo was November 8, 2015. But in my mind I was swept back 35 years to November of of 1980 when I held a regular job on main line local trains 1311 ~ 1312 between Emporia & Arkansas City for a few weeks…

Thanks for listening!
Lance Garrels
santafe199



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 11/16/15 20:17 by santafe199.

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Great story Lance.....and a generous gesture!

I can just feel your hair standing on end!

Great story and I love that third photograph!

Terrific story Lance! You ought to write a book with all your stories.

Steve Zahn
Glenview, IL

 

Great story, sir!  Thanks for taking the time to post it.

Mike N.