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CONFESSIONS OF A RAILROAD SIGNALMAN
[Illustration: A TYPICAL SMASH-UP]
CONFESSIONS OF A RAILROAD SIGNALMAN
by
J. O. FAGAN
With Illustrations
[Illustration]
Boston and New York
Houghton Mifflin Company
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1908
Copyright 1908 by J. O. Fagan
All Rights Reserved
Published October 1908
Second Impression
CONTENTS
I. A RAILROAD MAN TO RAILROAD MEN 1
II. THE MEN 26
III. THE MANAGEMENT 47
IV. LOYALTY 69
V. THE SQUARE DEAL 95
VI. THE HUMAN EQUATION 118
VII. DISCIPLINE 149
ILLUSTRATIONS
A TYPICAL SMASH-UP _Frontispiece_
A HEAD-ON COLLISION 26
A YARD WRECK 52
A TYPICAL DERAILMENT 82
A REAR-END COLLISION 112
WHAT COMES FROM A MISPLACED SWITCH 132
DOWN AN EMBANKMENT IN WINTER 150
THE AFTERMATH 176
Acknowledgment is due to the proprietors of _Collier’s Weekly_ and of
the _Boston Herald_ for their courteous loan of the photographs from
which the above illustrations have been engraved.
CONFESSIONS OF A RAILROAD SIGNALMAN
I
A RAILROAD MAN TO RAILROAD MEN
Considering the nature and intent of the following essays on the safety
problem on American railroads, some kind of a foreword will not be out
of place. As much as possible I wish to make this foreword a personal
presentation of the subject. But in order to do this in a satisfactory
manner, it will be necessary to take a preliminary survey of the
situation and of the topics in which we, as railroad employees, are all
personally interested.
In the industrial world of to-day, the railroad man occupies a position
altogether different from the ordinary run of workers in factories or
machine shops. On account of the nature and importance of our calling
we are constantly in the public eye. By way of encouragement and as
an incentive to good service, public opinion accords to us certain
distinctive privileges. That there may be no excuse for laxity of
conduct or inefficiency of service, we are looked upon in many ways
as wards of the state and the nation. Not only are the hardships we
endure and the dangers we are called upon to face matters in which
the public is profoundly interested, but all details relating to our
wages and to our treatment by railroad corporations have always been
considered by the American people as topics in the discussion of which
they are at all times intimately concerned.
Glancing backward at the history of railroad life in America, it is
easy to perceive that this public sympathy and encouragement has been
the strong right arm that has supported the railroad employee in a
long-drawn-out struggle for the bettering of his social and financial
condition. In some directions and in some branches of the service, the
issues at stake have been bitterly contested, but the final results
are probably unexampled among the successful achievements of organized
labor. Not only numerically and financially, but also as regards the
intelligence and education of its units, the railroad service to-day
stands in the foremost position among the great industrial institutions
of the country.
The nature of the service we railroad men render to the public in
return for these benefits is most important, and, under present
conditions, extremely dangerous. Some idea of the hazardous nature of
our occupation may be gathered from the facts that, in a single year,
one employee in every 364 was killed, and one in every 22 was injured.
In the ranks of engineers, firemen, conductors, and brakemen, one in
every 123 was killed and one in every 10 was injured. This is about
the average record of recent years. It means, of course, an appalling
number of accidents, and these accidents are manifestly an eloquent
reflection of the risks to which the traveling public is constantly
exposed.
In many ways humanity is indebted to the railroad man to as great a
degree as to the sailor. The latter, indeed, has greater hardships to
endure; he is not nearly so well paid, and he has to submit to a much
stricter code of discipline. But for some reason the railroad man has
the more dangerous occupation, if one may judge from a comparison of
the fatalities that occur at sea and on the rail. In a storm at sea,
when battened down under closed hatches, with nothing to think about
but the fury of the gale and our own helpless situation, we appreciate
to the full our dependence upon the courage and watchfulness of the
sailor. But the public does not consider a railroad man from quite the
same viewpoint, for the reason, perhaps, that the unavoidable dangers
on the rail are not to be compared with the ever-present peril that
surrounds a ship in its battle with the elements. And yet when we come
to compare actual results, that is, the statistics in regard to ship
travel and train travel, one is quickly confronted with the conclusion
that the public is fully as dependent for its safety upon the human
elements of vigilance and consecration to duty in the one case as in
the other.
Looking at our subject from the widest standpoint, however, it is
evident that the dangers that threaten a passenger on the steam-cars
are more numerous than the passenger himself has any idea of, and
these dangers are very uncertain in their nature and difficult to
guard against. Constant attention and supervision is being universally
exercised by the railroad officials, for the purpose of reducing to a
minimum the number of accidents that occur from defective equipment
and the like; but the accidents caused by the personal neglect or
carelessness of the individual employee is a branch of the subject that
calls for a very different kind of investigation and treatment.
In order to get an intelligent and comprehensive idea of these railroad
accidents, both avoidable and unavoidable, the National Government has
directed and empowered the Interstate Commerce Commission to secure
and to publish statistics on the subject. In this way, for a number of
years, the public has been kept informed in regard to all casualties
of whatever nature that take place on our railroads. But right here
the work and influence of the National and State Commissions, as well
as of all railroad managers and individual investigators into the
personal side of the problem, come to an end. Being in full possession
and understanding of the actual results of our system of operating
the railroad, the authorities seem disinclined to adopt any radical
measures for the improvement of the service. In a report prepared for
Congress some time ago, by the Interstate Commerce Commission, it was
distinctly affirmed that these avoidable accidents are mostly due to
the failure in duty of signalmen and enginemen.
“There is no escape from the conclusion that the block system is the
best-known instrumentality for the prevention of collisions,” says the
report, “notwithstanding the imperfections that have been shown in the
results of its operations.”
According to the same report, during a given period, thirteen
collisions occurred under the telegraph-block system, and all of these,
so the commissioners say, were chargeable, not to the engineman, but
to the telegraph operator. Yet in the same period seven collisions
occurred on lines operated under the automatic block-signal system,
where the telegraph operators are eliminated. These collisions were due
to misconduct or neglect of enginemen. It is reasoned from this that
the defect in the automatic block system is that the telegraph operator
is not there to caution the engineman. The presence of a telegraph
operator who attends the signal station serves as a caution to the
engineman; whereas, when the telegrapher is not there, the engineman is
in danger of failing to note the signal. In other words, the Commission
finds the telegrapher left to himself is unreliable, and the same
conclusion is arrived at in regard to the engineman and the automatic
signals. According to the report, to obtain the desired security the
best-known method is to rely upon the coöperation of these three
acknowledged insecurities.
But apart from this consideration, the point for us railroad men to
note is that we have been found directly and personally responsible
for the accidents. Our failure in duty has been the actual cause for
the loss of life resulting from these collisions. To say the least,
these failures in duty are very numerous, and the authorities who
are depended upon to look into these matters are of opinion that
“the block-signal system is the best-known instrumentality for the
prevention of” these accidents. But, unfortunately, a great many years
must elapse before the railroads, both single and double track, can be
thoroughly equipped with these signals, and meanwhile the public must
remain at the mercy of these failures in duty which in the main, some
day, block signals are expected to eliminate.
Working along these lines, however, the progress made by the
authorities in eliminating the causes of these accidents and in
improving the conditions has so far been very insignificant. There
seems to be an inclination in all quarters to let things run their
natural course, and to wait for the time when these accidents shall
have become mechanically impossible.
But the writer of this book has very different ideas on the subject.
He has studied the actual results that have been obtained from these
block-signal systems, and at the same time he has paid particular
attention to the behavior and responsibility of the men in regard
to these accidents. The study referred to has not been a matter of
a month or two, but of many years. For unknown reasons some of my
critics have seen fit to question the nature of my experience as a
railroad man. Fortunately it is an easy matter to give an account of my
qualifications. The mere fact that one has had a varied and lifelong
experience as an engineman or a conductor would be only partially
significant. But a man who has been a telegraph operator and towerman
for twenty-seven years and part of the time chief clerk to a railroad
superintendent has certainly some claims to an all-round knowledge of
his subject. The extent of the territory covered by this experience
is even wider than one would suppose. For a telegraph operator is, of
necessity, one of the best-posted men in the service. He has occasion
to observe, and he is more or less obliged to understand, nearly
every move that an engineman, conductor, or brakeman has occasion to
make in the routine of his work. He has every opportunity to observe
just how trainmen of all classes obey the rules and the signals.
Add to this opportunity to become conversant with the practical
side of railroad life, the knowledge that is derived from attending
to the correspondence of a superintendent and the general work of
the office. This includes supervision of pay-rolls, the hiring and
examination of men, the investigation of accidents, the tracing of
trouble of every description, and the handling and movements of both
freight and passenger trains. In a general way this has been the
nature of my experience, which I think has been eminently practical
and not “academic.” Consequently, although some of my statements and
conclusions may be questioned by railroad men who have had equal or
greater experience, I nevertheless think that, in the interests of the
public safety, I should be favored with a full and patient hearing.
Addressing the great body of American railroad men, I have no
hesitation in saying that the service with which we are connected
rests to-day under the shadow of a great shame. The situation cannot
be looked upon in any other light, and it remains with us as a body,
and as individuals, to apply the remedy. In order that my standpoint
and the reasons for my conclusion may be thoroughly understood, I think
it will be profitable, as well as interesting, to give a short history
of the personal investigation and study which, for many years, I have
steadily pursued in the interests of better and safer railroad service.
Manifestly, in order to treat my subject in the widest and fairest
manner, all sentimental or personal scruples must be thrown aside. In
explaining my position I can in no way be a respecter of persons or
traditions. To me the management of a railroad is merely part of the
subject-matter which I am called upon to consider, and an organization
of railroad men is nothing more or less, so far as my investigation is
concerned, than a combination of units constituting a certain influence
which I feel myself at perfect liberty to criticise in the interests
of the larger social body represented by the traveling public. The
death roll and the record of suffering in preventable accidents in the
United States is justification, repeated a hundred times over, for any
and every conceivable probe into personal conduct or the policy of
organizations.
But in holding up the conduct of others to criticism, it is but
reasonable that I should begin with my own conduct and work in the
matter. By what methods and means, for example, have I arrived at the
conclusion that on our railroads the interests of the community have
become secondary to those of the employee and his organization? This,
of course, must be looked upon as a very serious statement, and it
certainly calls for the earnest consideration of intelligent railroad
men. In order to understand the nature of my evidence on the subject,
it will be necessary to go back with me to the time when my attention
was first directed to railroad accidents.
In the year 1892 a very serious accident occurred near the signal
tower where I was employed. Although I was not on duty at the time I
was naturally very much interested in the case, and I paid particular
attention to the evidence that was brought forward at the hearing in
the effort that was made to hold an engineman responsible for the
disaster.
A passenger train, standing at a “home signal,” which was set at
danger, was telescoped from the rear by a freight train, running
practically at full speed. About 1500 feet from the home signal a
distant signal was located. This signal, in the cautionary position
at the time, was a distinct notification to the freight engineman to
proceed cautiously and to prepare to stop before arriving at the home
signal. An additional reason for such caution arose from the fact
that the night was dark and extremely foggy. The explanation of this
accident was to me extremely simple. The signals were all right, and
so were the rules for that matter; but, from one end of the road to
the other, these distant signals were dead letters. In the daytime,
with apparently a clear track, absolutely no significance was attached
to them; consequently I was not surprised at this disaster in a fog.
But the incident was brought home to me in such a dreadful way that it
started a line of thought and an investigation into the safety problem
on our railroads, that has lasted until to-day.
But once started in my study, there was no turning back. Within
sight of the interlocking tower where I worked there was a freight
yard of considerable dimensions; the main lines of the railroad ran
through this yard, and cross-over switches connecting one side with
the other were protected by what are called yard protection signals.
These protection signals, which are located about 1200 feet from the
cross-overs, must be thrown to the danger or stop position before the
switches can be changed. Once in a while, however, I noticed that the
signal in question was put up to danger after an engine had passed,
which of course disclosed a very serious state of affairs, for the
engine in question was almost certain to get into trouble at the
cross-overs. Taking note of this danger, I called it to the attention
of the management. The result was, a rule calling for flag protection
as well as signal protection at this particular point, but no attention
was paid to other yards on the system where the conditions were more or
less similar. As a matter of fact, it was not until a serious wreck had
occurred that a general rule on the subject was put into force. This
rule ordered the employee, after he had placed the signal at the stop
position, to wait a sufficient time to allow a train that might have
passed the signal to arrive at the cross-overs and thus to proceed in
safety.
Now I would like railroad men in general to pay particular attention
to my criticism of their conduct in relation to this rule and to other
illustrations that follow. Here is a necessary law, put into force by
the management for the safety of travel and the good of the service.
It is a direct appeal to the common sense and honor of employees.
Nevertheless, in a short time after the order was issued, it was a dead
letter. True, very frequently in clear weather the rule is absolutely
unnecessary; but when the weather is foggy, or at places where there
is a curve, the failure to observe the rule is liable to result in a
wreck. In one month I was a witness to eighteen breaches of the rule on
a single division of a railroad.
It must be understood that I am now describing my actual experience
with men, management, and rules, and the reasons that induced me to
follow the matter up and to inquire if the work I am describing can be
termed typical of American railroads.
Of course, one of my first thoughts in regard to the non-observance of
rules related to the lack of adequate supervision by the management. To
me it seemed to be a remarkable fact that I could easily follow up the
working of a rule and the behavior of the men in regard to it, but the
management seldom did anything of the kind. In this way my field for
investigation became wider and wider, and I quickly arrived at an idea
of the seriousness of the situation, from the standpoint of the people
who travel from place to place on the cars.
One day a conductor of a freight train came into my office and asked
for a train order which, according to the rules, called for the
signature of both engineman and conductor. After receiving the order by
telegraph from the train dispatcher, I placed it on the desk ready for
the signatures. A minute or two later, when I returned from some other
work, I saw that the conductor had signed the order for himself and
the engineman as well. I said to him, “That will never do. Not so long
ago that trick killed three trainmen, wrecked two engines, and cost
the company something like $50,000. You must go for your engineman.”
“That’s a great note,” the conductor replied. “You mean to say you
intend to make me walk half a mile and lose half an hour in order to
get that signature; you are the first operator who ever picked me up
in this way. Why, they do this thing right along up the road. If the
dispatcher was making a meeting point it would be different, but it’s
done every day in the case of a work train or a gravel train.” “That
may be very true,” I replied, “but you can’t do it here; the engineman
himself must sign the order.” Now this man was actually telling the
truth, and in a very short time I had the proofs in my possession.
Railroad men who read these lines must remember that in those days I
was simply collecting evidence in a fair and honorable way, for my own
private purposes, that would enable me to assign some kind of reason or
cause for the lamentable loss of life on American railroads. I found
the railroad business wherever I went to be bristling with reasons, and
the more I looked into the matter the greater became my astonishment.
It cannot be claimed that my illustrations apply to only one or two
railroads, for an examination into these accidents, regardless of
locality, will reveal the fact that almost without exception they have
resulted from the disregard of rules that are practically similar in
nature and intent on all railroads.
In those days, and to a great extent at the present time, railroads
were equipped with fixed cautionary signals. On approaching such
signals it became the duty of the engineman to run slowly and look out.
I discovered, in fact it was a matter of common knowledge and remark,
that not one man in fifty did anything of the kind, although accidents
from the breach of this rule were of daily occurrence, and the lives of
thousands of passengers and employees had already paid tribute to this
disgraceful state of affairs. To my mind the personal nature of this
general inefficiency was its remarkable feature. We railroad men were
running the business, and the management and the public got it into
their heads, in some way, that we were doing our duty. Unfortunately,
with the facts before me, I was unable to console myself with any
such delusion. The nature and variety of the incidents I was able to
discover were most astonishing. While I certainly dislike to beat the
air in this way with illustrations, the matter of our own personal
conduct and our direct responsibility for these preventable accidents
cannot be sufficiently emphasized. At any rate, the incidents I am
describing must be taken as the incentive and inspiration I received
for continued exertion.
Furthermore, railroad men are very well aware that my illustrations
cannot be looked upon as ancient history. Those on the inside still
hear of strange happenings from day to day. I think a chapter on
narrow escapes would do us railroad men a power of good. It is surely
by taking warning from them that disasters on the rail can be best
avoided.
Not so long ago on a Western railroad, and about the same time on a
New England railroad as well, passenger trains were run for miles _on
the wrong track against the traffic_. This was done in broad daylight,
without orders of any description. The mere possibility of such
occurrences, involving trainmen from brakemen to enginemen, is almost
unthinkable. With such mental and physical paralysis to guard against,
of what avail are block signals or the best intentions of a management?
The popular contention that these things occur only “in spots” is
most harmful. If only he will do a little thinking, any railroad man
in the country can study these so-called “spots” without wandering an
inch from his own job. The accidents that are liable to occur when the
responsibility can be divided between the rules and the management are
as nothing compared to those that we railroad men initiate and blindly
invite of our own accord. With all sincerity and candor I present a
final illustration, not from the past, but from what is positively
taking place at the present day.
As we all know, managers of American railroads have been wrestling
with the “hot-box problem” for nearly half a century. The rules
relating to the matter are and always have been unmistakable. “Take no
chances. If necessary, set off the car.”
On June 17, 1908, a freight train, running fully thirty miles per hour,
approached my signal tower with a clear right of way east-bound. At the
same time an express passenger train, rushing at full speed west-bound,
came in sight. From a distance of nearly half a mile I could see that
a car on the freight train was enveloped in smoke and flame from a hot
box. As an actual fact, the engineman, conductor, and brakemen were
aware of it. A brakeman was on top of the car watching the trouble.
But they were nearing the terminal, and on a parallel east-bound track
there was a train that all hands were very anxious to pass by or
“jump.” So, by common consent, they were taking the chance on the hot
box, and the engineer “had her wide open.” As the freight approached
the tower I could see the chips flying from the ties, which indicated
that the melted journal had snapped in two. A few seconds later both
east- and west-bound tracks were blocked with the twisted rails, broken
ties, and derailed cars. The passenger train, consisting of sleepers
and crowded coaches, escaped dashing into the wreck by a miracle,--that
is, by a mere fraction of time.
This is but an incident in the history of taking chances. Concealed
in it, however, is a personal lesson that vitally concerns every
man in the service. Do we actually insist upon disaster such as
threatened this passenger train before we can be persuaded to come
to our senses? In this business of taking chances, which covers
every branch of railroad service, both the traveling public and the
railroad corporations are at our mercy. Through a long course of years,
influence and discipline of all kinds have utterly failed to check
it. It is useless to talk about “spots,” for most of us take chances
systematically. In fact I don’t think the managements have any idea of
the nature and extent of this evil, for the reason perhaps that they
have made no special study of the subject nor watched for and made note
of illustrations, as I have. One would think it would have occurred to
some railroad manager to issue a general order, with a caption somewhat
as follows: “Here is a list of twenty dangerous chances which some of
you are in the habit of taking. For goodness’ sake, have a care!”
Here, and elsewhere in this volume, it seems to me that it is
demonstrated, beyond possibility of question, that thousands of
lives have been sacrificed by reason of the palpable neglect and
inefficiency of certain railroad employees. It makes not a particle
of difference whether we conclude to call these careless men a
majority, a minority, or a scattered few. Fundamentally it is also
quite a secondary consideration that rules and methods of management
at times can be shown to be partially responsible for accidents that
result from this inefficient service. For the time being also, let us
forget that elsewhere I call attention to the conduct and influence
of the railroad labor organizations as an important factor in the
situation, and to the absolute necessity, under existing conditions, of
governmental interference. Let us put aside all these considerations,
and as thoughtful, well-intentioned railroad men ask ourselves if we
are socially and morally interested in this safety problem on American
railroads. Do we consider the matter important enough to give to it
more than an occasional thought or passing comment? When the lives of
our fellow employees, or of passengers, are sacrificed by reason of
personal forgetfulness or negligence, have we, the principals, or at
least those most nearly concerned in the accidents, any remarks to make
or any suggestions to offer? For the future, as in the past, are we
going to allow this business to drift? Are we all of the same opinion
as the train-master who said to me: “What’s the use of writing up these
matters? We always have had careless men. We can’t expect to get rid
of them altogether. Like the poor, they are with us always.” This man
forgot, as many of us are liable to forget, that “writing up,” as they
call it, is the only known method in modern civilization by means of
which enlightenment and education can be passed around and disseminated.
But let no one imagine that I have any unreasonable expectations
as regards the improvement of conditions on our railroads. I fully
recognize and make allowance for the difficulties connected with the
problem and for the shortcomings of human nature, but at the same time
I insist that if we only open our eyes to our personal responsibilities
in the matter, and pay half as much attention to the public interests
as we do to our own, an astonishing improvement in the service will
immediately result. It is actually a matter of reasonable demonstration
that at least seventy-five per cent of the casualties might be avoided
by increase of interest on the part of the employee, and the earnest
concentration of his best thought on the subject. This awakened
interest, however, must not be a subordinate matter. It must be a
consecration apart from and above all questions of wages, discipline,
or the interests of organized labor. There is no question in my mind
as to the efficacy or wonder-working properties of the personal cure.
The real question is, Are we big enough to undertake the job? If we
continue to avoid the issue, and thus publish the fact that our social
conscience is a blank, we may just as well write ourselves down as the
most self-centred aggregation of individuals in the industrial world.
It is ridiculous to suppose that conditions such as I describe in this
book can be permitted to continue much longer. Sooner or later public
opinion will be called upon to define, with no uncertain emphasis, just
how far our private rights can be permitted to infringe upon our public
duties.
But while our apathy in these matters must be evident to any thoughtful
man, it will certainly add to the impressiveness of the situation
if it can be shown that our conduct differs from, and is altogether
less praiseworthy than that of other men and other organizations,
under very similar conditions. Is it not remarkable that all over the
United States, business and scientific associations should be actively
bestirring themselves in regard to the railroad accidents?
The railroad labor organization alone is inactive and silent in the
matter. The railroad business is a profession, in the operation of
which there are certain features that threaten the public welfare. The
business of a doctor or a surgeon is also a profession, in which there
are many dangers and difficulties that also relate to the public health
and safety. There is actually no more reason why surgeons should come
together and consult for the good of humanity and the honor of their
profession, than there is for railroad men to do so. As a matter of
fact, every profession on earth is jealous of its good name, and plans
early and late for the improvement of the service it is called upon
to render to the public. In my opinion railroad men should be equally
sensitive to the call of the social conscience.
Of course the discussion of these matters relating to the personality
of railroad men, to be of any practical value, must be followed by
action or experiment of some kind. Years ago, I proposed to the
managements of several railroads that we, the men in the operating
departments, should be invited to form a “Safety League.” I thought
it would be a good idea to have a badge or button of some kind. There
would then be no doubt in the public mind as to our interest in the
problem. “Let us try the experiment,” I said. “We can at least show
that there is one division of one railroad in the United States
where the men have come together, talked over the difficulties, and
determined to make an improvement in the records.”
But it was pointed out to me that the one great objection to the plan
was the fact that leaders of our organizations would immediately veto
anything of the kind. They have always frowned upon any such democratic
relationship between men and management, such as a Safety League would
initiate. It is doubtful, however, if these objections would stand a
little public investigation and pressure, and therefore I think the
present is an opportune moment to revive the proposition. There would
be no chance for friction between labor men and management in the
efforts of the League to improve the service. The main object of the
League would be to arouse our interest and concentrate our attention
upon the routine of our daily work, into which certain factors that
imperil the safety of travel have been allowed to enter. We railroad
men are still too human to render the best service without a certain
amount of emulation and encouragement. A Safety League could be
depended upon to furnish this much-needed stimulus. If managers and
labor leaders would come out in the open, in the way I have indicated,
and let the public see by this practical demonstration of their
interest that they are thoroughly in earnest, I am sure they would find
the employees ready and willing to second their efforts. That a Safety
League among American railroad men would be worth the candle can be
thoroughly comprehended if we give a moment’s attention to the endless
string of fatalities and the millions in money losses that are now the
recognized tribute that is being paid to these failures in duty.
For the rest, to the thoughtful railroad man, a final word remains to
be said:--
In any comprehensive study of efficiency, prosperity is one of the
most important factors to be considered. There is always an intimate
relationship between struggle and efficiency. The general rule is
from shirt-sleeves to shirt-sleeves, with prosperity as the halfway
house. In all manner of human affairs it takes high moral exertion
to stave off this fate. In the railroad business to-day the marked
prosperity and power, political and otherwise, of the employee, is a
positive menace to the safety of travel, on account of the lack of the
moral safeguards to which I refer. This statement should not have an
irritating effect upon railroad men; it should stimulate thought. The
significance of the above conclusion is emphasized, from the fact that
our labor leaders appear to be utterly unmindful of “the writing on the
wall.” With shorter runs, increase of pay, larger personal privileges
in every direction, and an ever-widening sphere of power and influence,
a corresponding enlargement of our appreciation of our social and moral
responsibilities is absolutely essential.
It is obvious, therefore, that the safety problem in regard to
preventable accidents must depend to a great extent upon the thought
which we are now willing to devote to it. What the managements of
corporations and the public can do about it without our assistance can
be judged from what they have been able to accomplish in the past.
Up to date we railroad men have permitted our leaders to do all our
thinking for us. This arises from the fact that we have never thought
about or desired anything but material advantages; consequently labor
leaders to-day are only too often a reflection of our material desires
and of our lack of social responsibility. These men are good, bad, or
indifferent, according to the returns we receive from them in cash. In
this way they have been uniformly faithful to our interests. But we
must not forget that we railroad men, millions of us, are part of the
democratic fabric of the nation, and no democracy can possibly flourish
upon purely materialistic principles.
The matters to which I direct attention in this volume call for the
serious thought of employees, and let us take for our inspiration the
truth that the democratic idea of government is itself founded upon the
hope that every man will do his own thinking.
II
THE MEN
Money, brains, and intelligent labor form the combination that is
attempting to solve the problem of safe and expeditious transportation
on American railroads. In order to secure the desired result no
expenditure, either of effort or of treasure, is considered too
extravagant. So far as concerns speed and comfort, the conditions at
the present day leave little to be asked for; but when we come to take
account of the human lives that have paid toll to American systems of
railroading, we cannot avoid the conclusion that something must be
fundamentally wrong in the methods of handling the traffic.
To account for the unsatisfactory state of affairs, there are various
popular excuses and explanations. Discussions in regard to block
signals, tired employees, faulty rules, and so forth, are seemingly as
endless as, up to date, they have proved fruitless. For the most part
these discussions are being carried on by professors and students of
economic conditions and by clever collectors of statistics, but the men
who know all the details of railroad life, the men who pull the signals
and handle the trains that are concerned in the trouble, have yet to
be heard from.
[Illustration: A HEAD-ON COLLISION]
However, regardless of the nature or value of the discussion, the fact
remains that we railroad men still continue in the same blind rut,
and there is no perceptible improvement in efficiency. Managers and
superintendents appear to be helpless in the matter. They are evidently
unable to stem the tide of preventable casualties.
The story of one accident is the story of them all. There is a
smash-up. Property is destroyed, perhaps passengers are hurt. The
superintendent at once starts an investigation. It is practically
secret. Not a word in regard to it is allowed to leak out. After a
while a decision is arrived at and a verdict is rendered,--in secret.
Then discipline is administered. A private communication containing
verdict and penalty is sent to the accused party. This, of course, he
keeps to himself, and the incident is closed.
But before long another employee, in utter ignorance of the first man’s
blunder, commits the same mistake. Both of these wrecks may have been
serious, perhaps with loss of life, but that makes no difference. Our
traditions and ancient habits have not been interfered with and the
bills have been paid. Such is discipline in the dark. Great, indeed, is
secrecy.
Yet it is useless to question either the ability or the integrity
of superintendents. As a rule they have risen from the ranks, and
are thoroughly capable and conscientious. Every avoidable accident
is a reflection on their management, and therefore it can be taken
for granted that they render the best service possible under the
circumstances. But unfortunately they are beset on all sides with
obstacles and difficulties. What they would like to do, even in the
matter of secrecy and discipline, must frequently wait upon what they
are able to do. Time was when an offending employee could be discharged
on the spot, without appeal. To-day he claims a hearing. A brother
employee, an expert on railroad law and precedent, stands at his elbow
as prompter and assistant. In this way, as we railroad men figure it
out, the “law’s delay” puts a curb on the “insolence of office.” Thus
the initiative of a superintendent is held in restraint, and management
by means of schedules and agreements takes the place of personal
direction, while over all hovers the watchful eye of the grievance
committee. Meanwhile, we, the employees, look on, watching the game.
When people are killed, when property is wrecked, we have nothing to
say. It is for the management to figure out reasons and remedies. Of
course, as individuals, we are interested and sorry when accidents
happen, but personally we do not bestir ourselves, nor do we call
upon our organizations to bestir themselves in the matter. We simply
stand pat on our rights. If a prominent railroad man is questioned
on the subject of railroad accidents, he will shrug his shoulders
and say, “Human nature.” So far as he is concerned, railroad men are
to be protected, not criticised. If you turn to the management your
errand will be equally fruitless. The superintendent will have little
to say. Generally speaking, he has no fault to find with the men,
and the men have little fault to find with him. This seems to be a
tacit understanding in the interests of harmony. It being impossible
to move without treading on somebody’s toes, by all means let us
remain motionless. As for the public interests, they must shift for
themselves. Consequently, in place of earnest coöperation in the
interests of efficiency and improved service, there is something in the
nature of a friendly deadlock between men and management.
Nevertheless, in spite of many appearances to the contrary, the problem
of the efficient and safe running of trains is a very simple one.
Fundamentally it is not a question of rules or safety devices, but of
personal conduct and habits of thought.
In everyday life when a man fails to make a satisfactory score with a
first-class gun we do not place the blame on the weapon. If we desire
greater efficiency in marksmanship we direct our attention to the man.
But in the railroad business such commonplace logic does not seem to
apply. When a man violates an unmistakable rule or runs a signal with
disastrous results, there immediately arises on all sides a peremptory
demand for a different kind of rule or an improved signal. Public
opinion, with little understanding of the issues at stake, has a
constant tendency to blame systems and managements. Even the Railroad
Commissioners, agreeing with or responsive to this public sentiment,
almost invariably recommend improvements along these lines. In this way
for many years attention has been concentrated upon the machinery of
management, its rules and safety appliances, and the personality of the
men has been side-tracked. The injurious effects of this policy and the
manner in which all hands have conspired to obliterate personality from
the railroad business will be evident from the following illustration.
A short time ago, in the vicinity of Boston, an express train
telescoped an accommodation passenger train. The track in question was
protected by no less than four cautionary rules and signals. In this
way the express train received four distinct and emphatic intimations
that a train was on the block ahead of it. With the slightest attention
to the rules or to the dictates of common sense, the protection was
sufficient, yet the train ahead was telescoped as it was pulling out
of a station. Of course, in placing the responsibility, the plain and
real issue in this case was the question whether the express train was
or was not running slowly and with extreme caution, as called for by
the rules. In order to determine whether the rules and signals were
sufficient to prevent a collision, it was surely proper and reasonable
to ascertain whether, on this occasion, they were obeyed. But the
Railroad Commissioners, after an exhaustive investigation, took a
different view of the matter. Their finding or verdict in their own
words was as follows:--
“It is not necessary to determine whether the engineman did or did not
exercise proper caution; the significant fact is that the discretion
actually used led to disastrous results. Under the conditions the
signal should have been _red_.”
The harmfulness of this decision will at once be apparent. It cuts the
personality out of the business at points where obedience to the rules
is the vital issue. Green signals or red signals are equally valueless
if ducks and drakes can be played with the rules in regard to them. A
decision like this one is confusing and demoralizing to conscientious
railroad men, and it converts the management and discipline of a
railroad into a thing of shreds and patches.
To emphasize this point, it should be added that another collision of
a similar nature took place about the same time on the same railroad.
An express passenger train approached a fixed signal which indicated
_caution_. The engineman, on the lookout, but with the caution up his
sleeve, kept on his way without any reduction in speed. A moment later
he encountered a red fusee which called for an absolute stop, but it
was too late. Neither the fusee nor the flagman frantically waving his
red flag availed to arrest the momentum of the flyer, which dashed into
the rear of another passenger train standing at a station.
Now, with all deference to the Railroad Commissioners, the “significant
facts” in these accidents are the personal conduct of the employees and
not the nature of the signals or the wording of the rules.
Of course, taking a wider view of preventable accidents, it is always
an easy matter to divide the responsibility for them between the men
and the management. This is the usual and popular method of treating
the subject. But the idea, reasonable at times, has been overworked,
and has now degenerated into a principle that responsibility should
always be divided. Consequently, while we are busy adjusting the
division, we frequently lose sight of the real issues, and the
offenders are allowed to escape.
Fundamentally, then, it must be confessed, we railroad men are to blame
for these preventable accidents. Most of the trouble can be directly
traced to our own personal behavior, that is to say, to our conduct and
habits of thought as railroad men. This is by no means a reflection
on our character as sympathetic and reasonable human beings. Our
intentions are all right, but our training in the railroad business has
been all wrong.
But it is of little use to talk or write about personality in the
abstract. As practical men dealing with a practical topic, we must
follow the railroad man out on the road, we must watch him at his work,
and we must take notice of the common sense, the caution, and the good
judgment or otherwise, which he habitually displays in the execution of
his duties. Then, and not until then, can we expect to become qualified
to place our opinions or conclusions on record.
Now the regulations relating to the running and protection of trains
are very similar on all railroads, and therefore the following rule
taken from one of our current working time-tables may be looked upon as
thoroughly representative.
“A freight train must not leave a station to follow a passenger train
until five minutes after the departure of said passenger train.”
To any ordinary thinker this rule will appear to be plain, positive,
and for the most part necessary. Yet as a matter of fact no attention
whatever is paid to it either by enginemen, by conductors, or for
that matter by superintendents. Its violation has been the cause of
collisions and loss of life, but that does not seem to bother us, for
we continue to disregard it. Let us take another illustration.
At the point where the writer has been employed for many years, there
is a junction of four-track and two-track systems. The rule for the
handling of trains at this point is as follows:--
“All trains will approach and enter upon four-track sections under
complete control.”
There is nothing misleading or uncertain about this rule. The
instructions to enginemen are positive. The towermen at these points
understand how necessary and important this rule is. Besides, it is
the written result of the experience of the officials. Nevertheless,
it is totally and consistently ignored by enginemen. But enginemen
are not alone to blame. Conductors should at least be conversant with
the rules. The railroad officials who ride on these trains might
also very reasonably be expected to notice the persistent violation
of regulations for which they themselves are responsible. Yet even
the trains bearing the Railroad Commissioners will rush over the
territory in question as fast as the wheels can turn. The conditions
and the rules in this case are practically the same as were those at
Salisbury, England, at the time of the recent disaster in that city.
Now as it seems to me, the all-important facts in these cases do not
relate to the nature of the rules, nor even to their non-enforcement,
but to the downright neglect of railroad men to do as they are told.
For, granted observance of them, all other questions in regard to the
rules dissolve into thin air.
Unfortunately, the rules I have quoted and the interpretation put upon
them by railroad men cannot be taken as examples standing alone, for
they are merely illustrations of a principle that covers the whole
cautionary field in our railroads. In some way we have got it into
our heads that these rules are _permissive_, not _positive_. This
permissive principle means the exercise of our own judgment according
to circumstances, regardless of the rule. Acting under the influence
of this principle, the flagman protects his train to the very letter
of the rule when it is manifestly necessary, but when, in his opinion,
it is not, he takes chances. In this way he forms a habit of using his
own judgment in regard to a positive rule. Sooner or later this means a
preventable accident.