IN A WRECK
The change from Alfreda to the chief despatcher's office in Nicholson
was, indeed, a pleasant one. The despatchers, especially the first trick
man, seemed somewhat dubious as to my ability to do the work, but I was
rapidly improving in telegraphy, and, in spite of my extreme youth I was
allowed to remain. But the life of a railroad man is very uncertain, and
one day we were much surprised to hear that the road had gone into the
hands of receivers. There were charges of mismanagement made against a
number of the higher officials of the road, and one of the first things
the receivers did was to have a general "house-cleaning." The general
manager, the general superintendent, and a number of the division
superintendents resigned to save dismissal, and my friend the chief
despatcher went with them. He was succeeded by Ted Donahue, the man who
had been working the first trick. Ted didn't like me worth a cent, and,
rather than give him an opportunity to dismiss me, I quit.
I was at home idle for a few weeks, and then hearing that there might be
an opening for operators on the C. Q. & R., a new road building up in
Nebraska, I once more started out. It was an all night ride to the
division headquarters, and thinking I might as well be luxurious for
once, I took a sleeper. My berth was in the front end of the last car on
the train. I retired about half past ten and soon dropped off into a
sound sleep. I had been asleep for perhaps two hours, when I was
awakened by the car giving a violent lurch, and then suddenly stopping.
I was stunned and dazed for a moment, but I soon heard the cracking and
breaking of timbers, and the hissing of steam painfully near to my
section. I tried to move and rise up, but found that the confines of my
narrow quarters would not permit it. I then realized that we were
wrecked and that I was in a bad predicament. I felt that I had no bones
broken, and my only fear was that the wreck would take fire. My fears
were not groundless for I soon smelled smoke. I cried out as loudly as I
could, but my berth had evidently become a "sound proof booth." Then I
felt that my time had come, and had about given up all hope, and was
trying to say a prayer, when I heard the train-crew and passengers
working above me. Again I cried out and this time was heard, and soon
was taken out. God! what a night it was--raining a perfect deluge and
the wind blowing a hurricane.
I learned that our train had stopped on account of a hot driving-box on
the engine; the hind brakeman had been sent back to put out a flag, but,
imagining there was nothing coming, he had neglected to do his full
duty, and before he knew it, a fast freight came tearing around the
bend, and a tail-end collision was the result. Seeing the awful effects
of his gross neglect, the brakeman took out across the country and was
never heard of again. I fancy if he could have been found that night by
the passengers and train-crew his lot would have been anything but
pleasant. Two people in the sleeper were killed outright, and three were
injured, while the engineer and fireman of the freight were badly hurt
by jumping. I didn't get a scratch.
As I stood watching the wrecked cars burn, I heard the conductor say,
"he wished to God he had an operator with him." I told him I was an
operator and offered my services. He said there was a pocket instrument
in the baggage car, and asked me if I would cut in on the wire and tell
the despatcher of the wreck. I assented and went forward with him to the
baggage car, where he gave me a pair of pliers, a pocket instrument and
about eight feet of office wire. I asked for a pair of climbers and some
more office wire, but neither was to be had. Here, therefore, was a
pretty knotty problem. The telegraph poles were thirty feet high; how
was I to make a connection with only eight feet of wire and no climbers?
I thought for a while, and then I put the instrument in my pocket, and
undertook to "shin up" the pole as I used to do when I was a schoolboy.
After many efforts, in which I succeeded in tearing nearly all the
clothes off of me, I finally reached the lowest cross-arm, and seated
myself on it with my legs wrapped around the pole. There was only one
wire on this arm, so I had, comparatively speaking, plenty of room. On
each of the other two cross arms there were four wires, and there was
also one strung along the tops of the poles. This made ten wires in all,
and I had not the least idea which one was the despatcher's wire. The
pole being wet from the rain, made the wires mighty hot to handle. I had
the fireman hand me up a piece of old iron wire he happened to have on
the engine, and with this I made a flying cut in the third wire of the
second cross arm. I attached the little pocket instrument, and found
that upon adjusting it, I was on a commercial wire. There I was,
straddling a cross arm between heaven and earth, with the instrument
held on my knee, and totally ignorant of any of the calls or the wire I
was on. I yelled down to the conductor and asked him if he knew any of
the calls. No; of course he didn't; and he was so excited he didn't have
sense enough to look on his time-card, where the calls are always
printed. Finally, after carefully adjusting the instrument, I opened my
key, broke in on somebody, and said "Wreck." The answer came, "Sine." I
said, "I haven't any sine. No. 2 on the C. K. & Q. has been wrecked out
here, and I want the despatcher's office. Can you tell me if he is on
this wire?"
Now there is a vast deal of difference between sending with a Bunnell
key on a polished table, and sending with a pocket instrument held on
your knee, especially when you are perched on a thirty foot pole, with
the rain pouring down in torrents, the wind blowing almost a gale, and
expecting every minute to be blown off and have your precious neck
broken. Consequently my sending was pretty "rocky," and some one came
back at me with, "Oh! get out you big ham." But I hung to it and
finally made them understand who I was and what I wanted. The main
office in Ouray cut me in on the despatcher's wire and I told him of the
wreck. He said he had suspected that No. 2. was in trouble, but he had
no idea that it was as bad as I had reported. He said he would order out
the wrecking outfit and would send doctors with it. Would I please stay
close and do the telegraphing for them, he would see that I was properly
rewarded. Then I told him about where I was, but promised to hold on as
long as I could, but for him to be sure and send out some more wire and
a pair of climbers on the wrecker. After waiting about an hour the
wrecker arrived, and with it the doctors; so our anxiety was relieved,
the wounded taken care of, and a decent wrecking office put in.
The division superintendent came out with them, and for my services he
offered me the day office at X----, which I accepted.