CHAPTER XII

SPEEDING UP THE FREIGHT TERMINALS

For years past, old-time railroaders have emphasized the point that the

ordinary freight-car did not make money until it had hauled its goods at

least forty miles; the newer generation places this figure at nearer

eighty miles. And when you ask the whys and the wherefores of this, the

answer comes in but two words: "terminal expense." To reduce drastically

this expense, particularly in freight haulage, is to accomplish to-day one

of the largest single economies in the operation of the American railroad,

while as we have seen, and as we shall again see, further operating

economies are apparently its one salvation, no matter who may assume the

difficult task of their direction.

I have said already that the maximum profitable haul of the motor-truck

upon the highway is from fifty to eighty miles. Now put this figure

against the minimum profitable haul of the freight-car and see if we are

not driving toward a solution of the freight terminal problem. I think

that we are. And a single practical and concrete illustration ought to

show the reason for making this statement.

Here is Jones, out near Passaic, New Jersey, tanning leather, and Smith,

who has a shoe-factory of modest size at Lynn, Massachusetts, using it. In

other days the leather used to go through from New Jersey to the Bay State

in car-load lots. But in the last few years this method has proved

entirely too slow, even with the slowly returning strength and freight

efficiency of our railroads. It takes at least three roads to accomplish

the distance between Passaic and Lynn, with both New York and Boston,

through which the cars will probably pass, in any brisk season transfer

points of fearful and constant congestion--and with both Jones and Smith

then swearing and recriminating at one another.

To-day the leather is leaving Jones's tannery each afternoon at just 3:15

and is rolling up to the Smith factory in Lynn well before noon the next

day with an almost clock-like precision. Even in the days that the freight

was moving in heavy volume this precision was steadily maintained.

Motor-haul all the way? Oh, bless you, no! Two hundred and fifty miles to

be covered, and--as this is being written, in the dead of winter--not only

to be covered promptly but at a cost considerably less than express, and

not so far in advance of first-class freight charges. That eliminates the

possibility of the motor-truck doing the job--all the way through at

least. But it does not eliminate the fact that it is the motor-truck that

has made the transformation possible. Now see what really is done.

Each evening at a quarter after seven a fast-freight train of the New

York, New Haven, and Hartford railroad leaves the Mott Haven terminal of

that system, in the upper section of New York, for Boston. With selected

equipment, it makes good time on the 229-mile run to Boston and pulls in

there shortly before six o'clock in the morning. A hard-headed and

long-visioned motor-truck concern in New York fills three to a dozen

box-cars in that train each night. Into that Mott Haven terminal it

operates its own fleet of motor-trucks, not only from all freight-giving

points in the Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queensborough, and Bronx districts of

greater New York, but from the many industrial towns in the vicinage

roundabout, up to a radius of from thirty to forty miles. Out of the

Boston terminal of the New Haven it operates a similar fleet, and so makes

the journey of a package of hides from Passaic to Lynn but a single

rail-haul, in addition to the pick-up and the delivery motor-run.

Simplicity and efficiency. And efficiency and economy.

In theory there would seemingly be nothing to prevent the single big

express company (into which all of the old-time companies were combined,

as a war-time measure) from doing this same thing. In practice, however,

their contracts with the railroads forbid this very simple and efficient

method of working. Those contracts compel the express company to load its

freight into railroad baggage-cars, for no matter how short the haul. If

the American Railway Express takes two rolls of carpet from Fifth Avenue

and Forty-seventh Street, New York, to Yonkers, on the very edge of the

big town and hardly a dozen miles distant from the carpet-store, it must

lug them to its big terminal on the west side of Manhattan Island and

there put them in a baggage-car of the New York Central for the haul to

its station in Yonkers, from which, of course, there is the second

delivery run. There is nothing in the theory--or in its simple

practice--to keep the express company's truck which picked up the rolls of

carpets at the Fifth Avenue shop continuing north to the very door of the

house in Park Hill or any other section of Yonkers to which they are

consigned. In a similar way express freight that is destined from

Manhattan Island to a point as near as Newark--seven or eight miles of

rail-haul--must all go by baggage-car, which, in its way, is quite as

absurd as sending stuff all the way from New York to Chicago by

motor-truck.

* * * * *

The big railroaders have not been quick to see the practical possibilities

of the motor-truck. Gradually however these are being forced upon their

attention. Take Cincinnati. Perhaps you are not a shipper and so are not

familiar with the freight situation there. If so, let me tell you that in

the days before Uncle Sam attempted consolidation of all his railroads and

the old-time competing systems used points of individual attractiveness to

gain traffic, the bright young men who sought out preference-freight for

their individual lines used, as the strongest of their talking points, to

promise the elimination of Cincinnati for any shipment bound north or

south or east or west through its vicinage. The late J. J. Hill used to

say that it took as long and cost as much for a box-car to go through the

Chicago terminals--about twenty-two miles--as from Chicago to the Twin

Cities--nearly five hundred miles. Applying a similar test to the

Cincinnati terminals one might say that a journey on from the Queen City

by the Ohio through to El Paso would be an equally fair comparison.

For while Chicago lies upon a broad flat plain and presents no

topographical problems whatsoever to the railroad engineer, Cincinnati,

crouched under fearful hills there along the river, has always been his

despair. When Collis P. Huntington first conceived the idea of a real

transcontinental railroad system forty or more years ago and sought to

bring his Chesapeake and Ohio, as an integral unit of that plan, into

Cincinnati, he found the roads already there most hostile to his entrance.

They held the town impregnable. Yet Huntington outwitted them by a superb

coup d' etat of engineering in which he thrust a marvelous great bridge

over the Ohio into the heart of the city and the upper levels of its

Central Union Station.

To-day Cincinnati stands as it stood then--seemingly impregnable. Its

railroad terminals forever are clotted and congested. And seemingly they

are incapable of expansion, short of the expenditure of many millions of

dollars. From one of these, the Panhandle freight-house at the east end of

the heart of the city, along the river edge to three or four others close

together, the downtown stations of the Big Four, the Baltimore and Ohio,

the Chesapeake and Ohio, and the Queen and Crescent, it is hardly more

than a mile. A direct track along the levee connects all of them, yet the

records show that the average time for a freight car to go from the first

of these freight-houses to any one of the last four for years past has

been two days and fourteen hours. It was because of practical conditions

such as these that a great deal of the transfer work of less-than-car-load

freight from one railroad to another through Cincinnati was performed by a

transfer company through the city streets. The huge wagons of this

concern, each drawn by horses or mules, the driver seated athwart of the

southwest horse or mule, used to be familiar sights in the narrow streets

of the town close to the river. I say "used to be" advisedly. For these

quaint and ancient vehicles have to-day disappeared from the downtown

heart of Cincinnati. In their place the motor-truck has shown its

ubiquitous self. And in place of the 115 horse-drawn open trucks--our

English cousins would call them "lorries"--have come fifteen efficient,

modern, five-ton gasolene trucks. The mules and the horses have been

turned out to pasture. Nor is this all. A good many of the little

switching engines that used to haul the local transfer or "trap-cars" from

one main freight-house to another, or from the sub-stations in various

outlying industrial sections of the Cincinnati district, have been

released for service elsewhere, and a vast saving effected in men and in

money.

Before we came to the detailed method in which these fifteen motor-truck

chasses are being operated, consider for a longer moment the peculiar

topographical layout of Cincinnati: On that narrow shelf of flats or

bottoms between the high hills and the river in which the older portion of

the city is tightly built are situated the greater portion of its

industries. There it is that its business life centers. There it is then

that its railroad terminals have also been centered since first the

locomotive poked his way down to the banks of the Ohio. And since they

have expanded to almost every square inch of available territory. To the

east end of this long and narrow strip come the Panhandle lines of the

Pennsylvania system, the Louisville and Nashville's main-stem and the

Norfolk and Western railroad. At its western end are grouped the Kentucky

Central division of the Louisville and Nashville, the Queen and Crescent

lines of the Southern system, the Baltimore and Ohio reaching east, north,

and west on four important stems, the Chesapeake and Ohio, and the Big

Four lines of the New York Central.

The volume of traffic which these lines bring into Cincinnati and take out

of her crowded heart is vast indeed, and growing rapidly year by year. Not

only is the local traffic a thing to reckoned in many thousands of tons,

but the fact that there are three railroad bridges there across the Ohio,

each carrying at least one important through route to the South, means a

vast amount of through freight to go through that gateway--and much of it

there to be transferred, which further complicates the situation.

And more than all these things the steady growth of the city has meant a

constant demand for addition to her railroad facilities--addition that

because of the recent difficulties in railroad finance, as well as the

terrible topographical difficulties of the Cincinnati situation, have not

kept pace with the industrial growth of the city. Fortunately a good deal

of this recent growth has been away from her civic heart rather than close

to it. New factories have sprung up in new industrial districts, well to

the north and the northwest of the older portions of the town. And in

order to accommodate the smaller concerns of these sections--Brighton,

Ivorydale, and Norwood chief amongst them--the competing railroads which

threaded them opened up sub-station freight-houses in each of them. These

served concerns not large enough to have their own private sidings, while

in order to give these industries the benefits of the same through-car

service for L. C. L. (less-than-car-load) business that downtown business

houses enjoyed they were served by the downtown freight-houses. The

distances from these sub-stations--three or four to eight or ten

miles--were of course quite out of the question for the horse-drawn

lorries. So it became the practice there, as in other widespread

metropolitan cities, to load package-freight in local box-cars--in the

parlance of the business, "trap-cars"--and send these in the convoy of a

switch-engine to the downtown station where space was required for their

spotting and unloading. And a confounded situation was thus doubly

confounded.

In regular practice these trap-cars with their outbound freight would

leave the outlying sub-station each afternoon soon after their closing

hour--4:30--but they would not reach the downtown stations until early

evening, some hours after the L. C. L. or through package-freight cars

for that day had all been closed and sealed and sent merrily on their way

toward their destinations. At the best the stuff they carried would make

the through outbound cars of the second day. At the worst they might make

the cars the fourth or fifth day, while impatient shippers began to burn

the telegraph wires with all their woes.

To-day the freight from those outlying sub-stations at Brighton,

Ivorydale, Norwood, Oakley, and Sixth Street, Storrs, Covington, and

Newport is leaving them at their closing hours and going out from the main

downtown freight-stations that same evening--almost without a miss. The

shipper smiles. And, as in the case of the L. C. L. freight to be

transferred from one railroad to another at Cincinnati, great time, money,

and temper are saved and efficiency gained. The reason why? Let me hasten

to answer.

The motor-truck has come into railroad terminal service and has there

found a field peculiarly if not exclusively its own.

And because the Cincinnati experiment has passed the stage of mere

experimental trials and doubtings, because there in that fine old town at

the double bend of the Ohio a real progress step in transportation has

been taken that is not only of actual value to it to-day but of potential

value to every other big town in America to-morrow, let us go a little

more closely into its workings. Let us begin by calling to the

witness-chair J. J. Schultz, president and general manager of the

Cincinnati Motor Terminals and himself a railroad operating man of long

experience.

Mr. Schultz tells us quickly how a little more than four and a half years

ago the experiment began in the badly overcrowded downtown freight-station

of the Big Four, just south of and adjoining the equally badly crowded

Central Union (passenger) Station. It was a simple enough plant then--two

motor-truck chasses, bought on credit from a Cleveland concern, and twelve

cage-bodies worked out through the ingenuity of a local blacksmith. These

were placed in service between the main freight-house of the Big Four and

one or two of the outlying sub-stations. The success of the plan was

almost immediate. The two trucks went scurrying back and forth all day

long, picking up and depositing the loaded bodies until the other railroad

men of Cincinnati began to realize that their Vanderbilt competitors had

scored a sort of a beat on them. Then they began to look into the

motor-truck proposition on their own, with the direct result that to-day

every freight-house in Cincinnati except one is equipped for handling

standardized motor-truck bodies on and off standardized motor-trucks.

In transfer freight the scheme, briefly stated, is this. A box-car, filled

with less-than-car-load stuff, all bound for different roads south of the

Ohio, comes rolling down from Pittsburg into the Panhandle freight-house,

there at the east end of the Cincinnati congested district. The

freight-house crews make quick work of unloading it. The package stuff

which it held goes rolling across the deck of the "in-house" and without

rehandling into one of two or three of a row of huge packing-boxes that

stand awaiting it. These look like the small goods-wagons of the French or

the English railways and are in reality the new type of standardized red

and gray motor-bodies of the Motor Terminals Co. One is destined for the

freight-house of the main division of the L. & N., another for the

Kentucky Central division of the same system, a third for the Queen and

Crescent. An average of four and a half tons is stowed away in each of

them, the way-bills are placed in an envelope for the driver, and the box

is then fastened and sealed like the door of a regular box-car in service.

The freight-house boss moves toward his telephone. Presto! A motor-chassis

pulls alongside the Panhandle freight house.

"Ready for the Queen & Crescent," the driver shouts cheerily in.

But before he receives his loaded box and the way-bills there is one to be

delivered. An overhead crane running upon a track grabs the box, swings it

clear of the chassis, and places it upon one side of the freight-house

deck. From the other it picks up the loaded box for the Queen & Crescent

and--almost as quickly as it can be told here--deposits it upon the

emptied chassis. The driver yells a good-by and the truck is off, to be

replaced almost instantly with another, with a transfer load to be

delivered and one to be taken on for one of the other freight-houses.

"Our despatcher allows five minutes to unload a body and to load on

another," says Mr. Schultz. "It's a lot more than sufficient time."

"What despatcher?" we ask Mr. Schultz.

He explains in some detail. The railroads, who keep a careful supervising

oversight of the workings of the plan, have installed at their own expense

a skilled train-despatcher who, at a desk and telephone switchboard in a

quiet downtown corner, directs the exact operations of each of the

terminal company's trucks. Through his direct telephone lines to each

freight-house and sub-station he keeps tab upon the comings and the goings

of the drivers, as well as a complete and permanent record of their work

and can quickly meet emergencies of every sort, instantly adjusting the

service to the needs that are thrust upon it. Time is money. And time

counts.

"We are handling this stuff across town to the Queen and Crescent in just

fourteen minutes to the average," explains Mr. Schultz. "And here is where

the average was two days and fourteen hours--the actual practice often

from eight to ten days. Some percentage of gain."

A seemingly incredible percentage, Mr. Schultz. Yet here are the records

before our eyes that prove the statement. He seems to know exactly what he

is talking about:

"Take that run from the Brighton sub-station down to the main

freight-house of the Big Four in the old days," he adds. "Second night out

from the main station in a through L. C. L. car--in theory only. Do you

know what it took them in average practice with that trap-car? An average

of thirty-six hours; that's according to the records. And our motor-trucks

make that run in thirty minutes. But because they haul an average load of

but 4.37 tons, as against an average load of nine tons in the trap-car,

we must, in order to be entirely fair, take that into consideration in a

comparative reckoning and say that our average haul is one hour and four

minutes, which still compares pretty well with thirty-six hours. Or, to

bring it still further, the average time to haul one ton of

package-freight by motor-truck is seven minutes, as compared with three

hours and fifty-four minutes by trap-car. Our drivers are scheduled to

make ten miles an hour through the city streets, and they make it easily

and without danger or annoyance to any one.

"There is another factor of saving in this service that you must not

forget," continues Mr. Schultz. "By our use of the motor-truck we have

saved the use of twenty-three trap-cars a day in this one freight-house

alone. That not only releases those cars to the Pennsylvania railroad for

line service but, by saving the platform trackage which these cars

demanded, increases in a really great measure the capacity and efficiency

of this freight-house. And you can readily understand the effect upon the

entire Cincinnati terminal situation when I tell you that the motor-truck

service which we already have in effect is releasing a total of 66,000

box-cars a year from Cincinnati terminal service for the line movements of

the various railroads that lead in here."

I think I can understand. A little time ago the wisest and most

conservative of the railroad operating executives who have Cincinnati

among their bailiwicks were wondering how in these days of abnormally low

railroad credit they were going to escape vast and almost immediate

extensions to their terminals there, both freight and passenger. Now they

know that these expenditures will not have to be made--for the freight

terminals at least--for a number of years to come. The trap-car

elimination has released anywhere from 30 to 40 per cent. of valuable

floor-space in each of the present local freight-houses and so of course

has added that much to their working capacity. Count that, if you please,

to the credit of the motor-truck in terminal service.

Nor is the service itself representative of any cost increase. The motor

terminals company is hauling all the transfer and secondary freight at an

average cost of eighty cents a ton, which certainly compares well with

$1.20 which the former transfer service was compelled to charge for its

haul by lorries, or the expense varying from $1.12 to $1.60 a ton which it

costs the railroads to haul their own trap-cars by switch-engines. A

saving this which goes well alongside of that of box-cars and

switch-engines and freight-house space relieved, to say nothing of

individual shipments, through and local, vastly expedited; all of which

can be translated annually into money savings of real dimensions.

Already the motor terminals company is hauling about one thousand tons of

freight through the streets of Cincinnati in nine hours of each business

day. Its trucks, with maximum outside dimensions of seventeen feet six

inches by eight feet, are both shorter and narrower than the lorries of

the old transfer company and infinitely less subject to delays under

conditions of inclement weather. Moreover understand, if you will, that

the transfer company, with all of its 115 lorries, hauled but 38 per cent.

of the through L. C. L. freight between the various terminals of

Cincinnati. To handle all of it would have taken at least 250 horse-drawn

trucks, while if it had attempted the problem of handling the sub-stations

another fleet of at least equal size would have been required.

Yet its motorized successor is now handling every pound of the thousand

tons or more of transfer freight at Cincinnati daily as well as all the

sub-station work, with the slight increase of twenty-four bodies to the

201 already in service and without the increase of a single chassis to its

present operating fleet of fifteen. To perfect and quicken its service the

overhead cranes for loading and unloading the box-bodies are being

equipped with motor-trolleys, in place of the man-power chain

arrangements, which in turn represents a speed of fifty feet a minute as

against but seven under the old order of things. And this of course is

still further efficiency.

So much then for the situation as it stands to-day in Cincinnati. It does

not take very much of a vision to see in the proved success of a terminal

plan, which already has ceased to be an experiment, a great enlargement of

the freight gathering and distributing scheme for the entire city. No

longer will it be necessary or even essential that a freight-house of a

railroad be located either at or near rails. It can come far closer to its

users. In other words railroad sub-stations for the collection and

delivery of package-freight can be established in every industrial section

of Cincinnati, thus shortening the haul for individual patrons and so in

turn perceptibly lessening the congestion in the city streets.

Do you see now where this is leading us? With sub-stations so established,

the principle of standardized interchangeable motor-truck bodies and

chasses working to so definite an end, there remains little or no use for

downtown freight terminals in a city like Cincinnati, save perhaps an

occasional team-track yard for heavy car-load shipments. In the flats at

the edge of the town the railroads can, and in my opinion eventually will,

establish new and generous-sized freight-houses and other terminal

appurtenances. The downtown stations, located in the heart of each

industrial district, will do the rest. The expense of building these last

will be as nothing. The value of their upper floors as lofts for light

manufacturing will far more than offset the cost and upkeep of the

ground-floor motor-freight terminal, while the facility of movement, with

its multitude of resultant economies, will make the expenditure on

outlying main terminals money well spent indeed.

As goes Cincinnati, so must go the land outside. It is from this point of

view that its radically new terminal plan assumes a nation-wide interest

and importance. As I lingered in its various railroad terminals beside the

neat wood and iron motor-body boxes upon the freight-house decks--the

original open cage design has long since been discarded in favor of the

stronger and more permanent form of carrier--I could not help but be

struck again with their resemblance to the small ten-ton goods-wagons of

the French and English railways. And I recalled the tremendous efficiency

of these same small wagons for the work for which they were best adapted,

the hauling of package freight, the sort of things we know in this country

as L. C. L. One of the great disagreeable sources of railroad outgo in

America, and one that has a constant tendency toward increase, is the list

of claims paid for freight damaged in transit. It makes a pretty big

annual bill, of which an astoundingly large proportion is gained through

breakage in the transfer-houses. Remember that right here is where our

French and English cousins can always show us a trick or two. With their

little ten-ton cars there is always enough package-freight to "make" a

full car even to the smallest communities, while once arrived at one of

these, a switching-crew composed of a man and a horse handles the car-load

shipment with great care and no little speed.

Then as I stood there upon the big and orderly decks of the Cincinnati

freight-houses--orderly upon the coming of the motor-truck into terminal

service, and for the first time in many years--it kept coming to me, why

could not these stoutly built boxes go through to Dayton or to Columbus or

Indianapolis, or for that matter anywhere within reach of the American

freight-car? Two of them would go quite easily upon the deck of a

flat-car; it ought not to be difficult to find "flats" to accommodate

three of the seventeen-foot motor-bodies upon their platforms. But even

with but two, there would be nine tons of package-freight, which is fully

as much if not more than the average package-freight box-car is carrying

to-day across the land. While thirteen tons--three well filled

motor-boxes-runs well ahead of that average.

Suppose that this long Big Four flat-car was to run up to Columbus--150

miles or more up the line--with three motor-boxes upon its deck. One might

have been filled at the main freight-house of the Big Four, down in the

shadow of the big passenger terminal, another at Brighton, the third, let

us say at Norwood. The exact stations are immaterial. The point is that

the freight would have but one transfer--at the in-house of the Columbus

terminals. There an overhead track-crane would pick the three boxes off

the "flat" and place them upon the freight-house deck, where they could be

quickly unloaded and their contents placed on trucks or lorries for

Columbus distribution. While in turn the motor-boxes would be reloaded for

shipment back direct to Cincinnati-Downtown, Cincinnati-Brighton, and

Cincinnati-Norwood.

There is nothing impracticable or impossible about such a plan. On the

contrary, it is most tremendously practical and tremendously efficient

withal. Its installation is neither difficult nor expensive, while the

savings are vast. A conservative estimate would place these already at

$1000 a day in the Cincinnati district. Carry that ratio all the way

across the country and you have a possibility of railroad operating

economy in the aggregate not to be sneezed at.

* * * * *

The whole broad national field of railroad operation awaits the coming of

the motor-truck and its detachable body into terminal handling. It is to

be a great factor in the railroad of to-morrow. Come east, if you will,

from Cincinnati into New York. Now we have a teaser of a problem. Far

worse, even, than that of the city by the bend of the Ohio. The freight

terminal problem of the island of Manhattan alone is to-day the greatest

single problem of transport in all this land, if not, indeed, in all the

world. Into it constantly is being injected idealism, engineering,

politics, common-sense--all of these, apparently to but little avail. An

elaborate plan has been formulated lately for the correction and revision

of the entire terminal problem of the New York metropolitan district

(including not only all the outlying boroughs such as Brooklyn, Richmond,

and the Bronx, but Jersey City, Bayonne, Weehawken, Hoboken, Newark,

Paterson, Passaic, and many other closely allied communities). This plan

is being engineered by the newly created Port of New York Authority,

modeled closely upon a similar body for the port of London. As this is

being written, it is being resisted stoutly by the city administration of

New York. I shall not go into this phase of the problem however. There are

enough others to be considered, and this particular one sooner or later

will come to an automatic solution.

For no matter whether the city administration or the Port Authority

(created by the States of New York and New Jersey) comes atop, the island

of Manhattan will remain the crux and key of the whole problem. For its

relief it may be necessary, as has been suggested, to build relief

belt-line railroads no nearer than forty miles away from it. That is a

matter for the future. For the present consider that disregarding

political boundaries--traffic takes little or no thought of them--the

commercial center of metropolitan New York (in the sense which I now mean,

a well-grouped city of ten million people, even though in two separate

States) is and must remain upon Manhattan Island. There is the commerce

done. There the freight comes to a clearing-house. Manufacturing may

increase and probably will upon the outer rims of the district. But

distribution will remain close to its heart.

Consider for a moment, if you will, with me the antiquated freight

facilities of the heart of what long since became the second city of the

world, and which to-day, commercially, at least, is its first. Upon the

long, slender island of Manhattan but one steam railroad has direct rail

freight facilities. That road is the New York Central, which many years

ago pre-empted most of the western edge of the island for itself and so

gained a vast strategic advantage--also a choice assortment of political

quarrels. However, the one thing probably more than offsets the other.

There are nine other important freight railroads, however, entering the

New York metropolitan district (not counting the West Shore, which is a

subsidiary of the New York Central). These roads, together with the

Central and the West Shore, occupy thirty-five vastly valuable piers in

the congested sections of the island south of Forty-second Street and so

hold the piers from coastwise and from outbound steamship lines which

clamor constantly for them.

To these piers the freight-cars of these eleven railroads come on long

clumsy car-floats, each accommodating about ten cars. The floats are

loaded at the direct water terminals of the railroads across the Hudson

and elsewhere and are poked by stout tugs into position alongside the

freight-piers. In theory a single standard pier of Manhattan should empty

and load, even in this rather clumsy fashion, about eighty cars a day.

This is based upon having four floats at each of them at a single time. In

practice they do well if they clear forty cars a day. The berthings

between the piers are narrow, there is much congestion in them and in the

rivers about Manhattan Island, and delays are not only frequent but

constant.

Yet the delays upon the water sides of these piers are as nothing compared

with those upon their street sides. Any New York merchant, retail or

wholesale, will tell you of these--of trucks standing in line long, weary,

expensive hours outside the pier-doors and then wasting more time after

they once get inside, before they are loaded and out again. On an average

60 per cent. of a truck's time is so wasted. The average downtown pier is

but eighty feet wide, and after a thirty foot roadway has been left down

its center there is not much room for the freight. There must be a vast

amount of pulling and hauling over the accumulated merchandise. This all

takes time and money.

Concretely, it costs about two dollars a ton for package-freight (known

technically as the classified) to get itself unloaded upon a Manhattan

Island pier. Add to this fifty to sixty cents for the hand-work of

unloading upon the pier and a hauling cost through the streets of downtown

New York of from eight to ten cents a hundred; and you have a total

terminal cost well in excess of four dollars a ton, which is entirely too

much.

One of the chief tasks before the engineers of the Port of New York

Authority is to bring down this cost. They have proposed a fascinating and

elaborate plan by which the freight-cars upon the eight railroads coming

into New York from the south and west be unloaded well outside the rail

terminal congestion--the essence of the fully-developed Cincinnati plan

which we have just seen. Their freight would go into a form of container

which would ride into Manhattan upon a miniature underground electric

railroad, not dissimilar to that in successful use in Chicago for a number

of years past. This road, connecting with the outlying freight interchange

points, would dip under the Hudson River at the Battery and continue up

under West Street, at the extreme westerly rim of Manhattan Island, to

about Thirty-third Street, where it would again tunnel beneath the river

and return to New Jersey--a simple and efficient belt-line.

This scheme is most interesting, despite its weakness in ignoring the

uptown growth of Manhattan Island by quitting it south of Thirty-fourth

Street. Unfortunately it is most expensive, as well. Most such plans are.

Its estimated cost is $259,000,000. A keen and experienced railroader of

my acquaintance, taking this into consideration for his overhead and

making a sharp analysis of probable operating costs, has not hesitated to

give it as his opinion that this underground electric railroad would

impose a terminal cost of something over four dollars a ton for classified

freight entering Manhattan from the west bank of the Hudson River. Add to

this your street haul costs of from eight to ten cents a hundred and you

begin to get something too dangerously close to six dollars a ton to have

much joy in it for the New York merchants.

One of the most important of the eight railroads entering New York from

the west, from a freight traffic point of view, at least, is the Erie.

Despite a fearful heritage of financial obligations incurred during its

maladministration of half a century ago, it is a remarkably progressive

property in its operating methods. Poverty and the consequent need for

extreme economy have forced it into many ingenious and highly practical

operating kinks. The vast expenditures involved in the elaborate plan of

the Port of New York Authority can have little fascination for the

energetic F. D. Underwood and the rest of the Erie officers, who know how

very hard it is for them to meet their operating and their fixed

charges--dividends are not in their hopes.

With this in mind they have sought to meet the New York terminal

situation, not with large expenditures but with an adaptation of the tolls

close at hand. Already they have entered into a contract with a trucking

concern upon Manhattan Island to work out the details of a most ingenious

plan which goes after this fashion.

For many years past the Erie has operated two ferry-lines from its

historic terminal at Pavonia Avenue, Jersey City, to New York--Chambers

and Twenty-third streets respectively. To meet the large suburban

passenger necessities of the road it is necessary to operate these upon

fairly frequent headways. Yet Pavonia Avenue is not an accepted route for

through motoring, either freight or passenger which means that the Erie

ferry-boats have been more crowded in their cabins than upon their team

decks. Yet it is obvious that it costs little or no more to operate a well

filled ferry-boat than one that is but half-filled. Moreover in Pavonia

Avenue, Jersey City, the Erie possesses not only ample freight-house

facilities but room for a large future expansion of them.

Of course, it was quite out of the question to expect the average merchant

of Manhattan Island to go to Jersey City to get his freight, particularly

when the Erie's enterprising competitors were crying their willingness to

set it down in the West Street piers. Mohammed would not go to the

mountain, but in this instance the mountain would come to Mohammed. The

Erie made arrangements with a large trucking concern in the City of New

York to take classified freight in ten-ton units to the merchants' doors.

These truck-bodies are four-wheeled, their forward wheels being rather

light and rather small. There are three of these bodies to one tractor

unit, which means of course that while one body is in transit attached to

the tractor, the other two are at the respective termini being loaded and

unloaded. So is time saved; and so is saved the expensive overhead upon

the tractor-unit while the clock goes steadily ticking forward.

Eighteen of these truck and tractor combinations go upon a single

ferry-boat. The ferry-boat headway is seven and one-half minutes, which

means that working at full speed 1760 tons--a fair-sized train-load, for

classified freight--can be handled each hour. And if you wish more figures

still, please understand that the terminal cost of trucking to the

merchant of Manhattan has been lowered by this method from eight to ten

cents a hundred to but five or six.

Economies? Sometimes I think we of America do not know, even yet, the real

meaning of the word.

Yet this is but the beginning of the Erie's work at its New York

terminals. Its big job, upon which it is just now embarking, is bringing

into play the container in its most real sense not merely as a detachable

truck-body but as a steel-box which can be loaded and then handled in

almost any conceivable form of transport.

The idea is simplicity itself, nor is it a particularly new one. For many

years past the express companies have used it for the transport of their

comparatively small and valuable packages, placing these in large

iron-bound wooden trunks for safety in carriage. It is more than a dozen

years ago that a professor in one of the New England colleges--Amherst, I

think--wrote an article in which he advocated the scheme for all

package-freight and sent the article to a technical publication, which

promptly refused it, saying that it was entirely too visionary an idea.

Yet here we are, fairly come to it in these days. The Erie plan in its

last refinements proposes to unload the package-freight for New York at

its yards at Croxton, New Jersey, just west of the Bergen tunnels, and

then after reassortment to reload it into steel container-boxes,

seventeen and one-half feet by eight and one-half, and with a working

capacity of five tons. Two of these containers will fill the platform of

an average flat-car.

The reassortment or transfer work at Croxton will be not only into

containers for the Erie's various sole and joint freight-stations in

Manhattan, the Bronx, Brooklyn, and Queensborough, but also to individual

business houses, where the volume of the freight justifies such a step.

Great retail stores, such as Macy's or Wanamaker's or Altman's, easily

would receive one or more of these containers each day. So would the

important wholesalers, and all other considerable distributing concerns of

the City of New York.

The containers placed upon the flat-cars at Croxton will quickly traverse

the three or four brief miles to the water-side of Weehawken, just across

from West Fortieth Street, Manhattan. Here they will go upon the huge

floats originally built for the terminal movement of loaded box-cars but

each easily adapted for the carrying of sixty of the five-ton containers.

All the elaborate plans that have been made for the extension and

development of the port of New York predicate the scrapping of this great

harbor fleet of car-floats--some eight million dollars' worth all told. In

this book I am aiming to show possible railroad economies, not

expenditures. It is easy enough to depict elaborate plans which involve

vast capital expenditure. We have had rather too many of these in this

country in recent years. It seems to me that by far the best plans are

those that give large operating economies with a minimum of actual

expense. These are the sort that I am trying to show within these pages.

If the Erie plans will bring to each of its water-side piers in lower

Manhattan some 7200 tons of assorted merchandise a day, against about 400

tons as at present accomplished by the old-fashioned and rather awkward

device of ferrying the loaded cars themselves across the Hudson River, it

would seem to be both a real efficiency, as well as a mere economy.

Carried out by other roads using the harbor-side of West Street,

Manhattan, it would quickly become a vast efficiency--the storage of

freight upon the crowded pier floors ended; motor-trucks coming in,

receiving in a time always to be measured in seconds, rather than in

minutes, the steel containers upon their stout chasses, and then departing

in a quick and orderly fashion. J. J. Mantell, the New York manager of the

Erie, who has created this new plan and now has its execution in charge,

estimates that carried out upon the lines of his competitors it would mean

that the railroads coming into New York from the west would need but seven

piers instead of the thirty-five that they now occupy. Twenty-eight piers

would be released for steamship service and the necessity of extensive,

and expensive, harbor improvements deferred, for a number of years at

least.

The container idea, having once come into the public eye here in the

United States, has steadily and rather rapidly gained in favor. A

gentleman in St. Louis has apparently gone the Cincinnati method one

better by devising a steel container which is interchangeable not only

between motor-trucks and railroad freight-cars, but from these chasses to

barge or flat-cars, or into the hold of a steamboat. His scheme already is

in actual use, although not in perfected form, in the Federal barge

service established three years ago upon the Warrior River. Twenty of the

big steel boxes were purchased for use there, and there they are still in

use.

It so happens that the Warrior River barges have no deck-houses, merely

open holds into which the coal from the Alabama hills can easily be poured

or unloaded. To make "return load"--always that valuable factor in

transportation, either water or rail-merchandise freight must be garnered

in New Orleans. And an open-hold barge is hardly comparable to a box-car;

not at least in the mind of a shipper, who has some lurking desire to have

his goods arrive in fair condition at the far end of the run.

So the steel container, which H. W. Kirchner of St. Louis has designed,

came into play. It carries merchandise not only from New Orleans to

Birmingport (just below Birmingham) but, atop of the coal, back to New

Orleans again. The inventor has had no joy whatever in this very informal

trial of his device. He would prefer to have his containers handled and

placed in a more orderly and systematic fashion. Yet the fact remains that

a beginning has been made in the actual use of the only practical binding

force yet brought forward which looks to a physical linking of the several

different arms of freight transport. Any firm believer not only in the

theory of correlated transportation but also in the high values to be

achieved by its practical application in this country cannot help having a

joy in this Warrior River experiment, an experiment which sooner or later

is to be extended to the similar barge service which the United States

Government has now succeeded in establishing upon the Mississippi. It

already has been shown on the Warrior River line that the container can,

and does, cut labor costs at terminals all the way from sixty-five cents

to four cents a ton--the time for unloading from twelve to twenty-four

hours down to but one or two, at the most.

* * * * *

There is coming to-day in this country--slowly, but very surely--a

reversal of the old-time tradition that the inland waterway is _per se_ a

competitor of the railroad. Many years ago the railroads themselves showed

how small a figure a river or canal, always more or less subject to

seasonal or weather influences, was to the steel highway as a competitor,

while the attempts that have been made since then--and generally at large

capital expenditure--to bring about the resurrection of the inland

waterway as a competitor of the railroad have so far proved abortive.

But to regard the inland waterway as supplementary to the railroad, or the

railroad as supplementary to the inland waterway--it is merely a choice of

phrasings--is a very different story indeed. True it is that the statute

laws to-day pronounce sternly against such a sensible, economic solution

of a large phase of our American transport problem. True it is that a

good many other keen business men still can see the waterway in no other

light than as a club over the railroad. True it is that a good many

otherwise sagacious railroad executives can see the waterway as nothing

but an obsolete agent of transport or as a foolish dream of visionary

idealists. Yet the fact remains that the waterway does have its place in

transport. The railroad has a place, and in intelligent analysis these

places dovetail somehow, somewhere. They do not conflict. And the sooner

realization is made of this, the better--for all of us.

Some day we shall have to change our statute laws and then, instead of

barring our railroads from our waterways, we shall invite, urge, implore,

and if necessary compel them to use these great natural arteries of inland

transport, chiefly for the relief of their overcrowded rails, particularly

the rail terminals. And how overcrowded these are yet to be, it is hard to

realize in this present moment of industrial slump.

In that day the container is to be, as I have said already, the binding

agent between these different avenues of transport. Its flexibility, its

adaptability, its obvious economy are going to bring it into its own.

* * * * *

In the meantime great progress is being made in its development. A. H.

Smith, the big, energetic president of the New York Central, with his

usual verve and enthusiasm has taken hold of the idea and seems bound to

put it over. Already he has had built ten steel units of containers four

for passenger service and holding ten boxes each, and six for freight

service and holding but six boxes apiece. The passenger service units are

being tried out in the United States mail service; the freight-service

ones are in experimentation by the American Railway Express. Just what

will be the final development in operation of these units Smith himself

does not know. He believes that the possibilities are almost too great for

instant grasp. That is why he has his road and himself back of the new

idea. He has watched it carefully, almost apprehensively. Because of a

certain indefinite fear that one of the great steel boxes might some fine

day be hurtled from the platform of a car running at high speed and into

some group of waiting people by the side of the railroad, he has caused

extraordinary care to be taken to have them firmly fastened not merely

upon, but into, the platform-cars. A long steel girder-side of the car

does the trick, while in these days of bandits and rumors of bandits along

the line the fact that there is no possible process of opening the steel

door of the container-box once it is set into its place upon the car gives

an assurance of protection to the merchandise that no other form of

carrier can offer.

Here again the motor-truck correlates. In the first experimental trials by

the New York Central of this forward-looking device, they have come into

quick and easy terminal service; the big olive-green trucks of the United

States Mail service and the deep-blue ones of the American Railway

Express.

* * * * *

I began this chapter with the motor-truck. With the motor-truck I shall

close it. It is the object of great dreams of transport. Yet these are

not, after all, mere dreams. They are, as we have seen just now, the

carefully developed plans of engineers long since become expert in

transportation. I could have carried you much further into these

plans--into their application for the relief of Philadelphia, whose great

water-front along the Delaware is only reached by the box-car after miles

of tedious switching through congested trackage, and where the motor-truck

offers an almost immediate and a comparatively inexpensive solution of the

freight terminal problem; into Chicago where the situation is nearly as

bad; and into Boston, where it is considerably worse, and where again the

motor-truck plus the container in terminal service is a veritable key to

the problem. Further still could I have carried you in this discursion--to

Baltimore, to Pittsburg, to Cleveland, to Detroit, elsewhere still. I have

hesitated to weary you with too much detail. You have had enough to prove

my points, while only space prevents the discussion of the financial

phases of this service, sometimes known as store-door delivery.

I shall admit that store-door delivery has no attractive sound to the

practical operating railroad executive. He is gun-shy, tremendously

gun-shy of it. And yet I do not wonder at that. Your railroader feels that

sooner or later--and probably much sooner than later--the charges for this

service would be tacked upon his shoulders flatly included within his

transportation rate. Aside from that I think that he would welcome it

distinctly. It would greatly simplify the traffic problems in and around

his freight-terminals to say nothing of making vast savings in the use of

his equipment.

Moreover the day is coming when he will be compelled to welcome it

willy-nilly. For, in my opinion, the motor-truck will occupy a place in

the railroads' necessities to-morrow only second to that of the locomotive

itself. It represents the railroad's newest field of development, by far

its largest field of possibilities. Remember that the pictures which you

have just seen in some detail of the Cincinnati and the New York terminal

situations are but two out of many of these possibilities. The others are

so vast and so many as to be termed limitless. They represent

progress--progress in the field of American transport as definite and as

distinct as that which marked the coming of the locomotive. The years pass

by. In them we do move. We do progress. And transport enterprise consists

in translating vision to practical operation, along lines such as we just

have seen. So shall our railroad of to-morrow be upbuilt.

Our Railroads To-Morrow · 第 12 / 16 章