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Greene County, Indiana ~ Saturday, July 5, 2008
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Can't You Hear the Captain Callin' ?
Posted Wednesday, April 23, 2008, at 7:42 PM<< Previous | Read comments | Respond | Email link | Next >>
I was so blown away with the responses on the first extra gang article, I couldn't help but write another. Anyway, it is time to get back on track.
The primary work of the extra gang, which I detailed earlier, consisted of replacing worn out ties. To support this process, there was the tie gang, the bolt machine operators and the back gang. Early on in my illustrious railroading career, I was a member of the notorious back gang. This gang consisted of a Supervisor, Tamper Operator, Jack Operator and 3-4 common laborers. I was one of the common laborers. The purpose of this gang was to ensure that the track was relatively flat and level for the train to have a smooth ride. The supervisor back then, was a huge man by the name of Clarence Berry. Clarence wore a wide brimmed hat and carried a large pillow. The hat was used to protect his head from the sun and the pillow was used to protect his knees from the rocks. You see, the railroad employed an extremely scientific method for checking the level of the rail, which consisted of Clarence getting down on his knees, bending over and sighting down the top of the rail. If there was a low spot, the Power Jack Operator could raise the rail and ties and Clarence would then announce in his booming voice to the ever vigilant common laborers, "Fill in a little around here."
Common laborers, such as me, were also skilled operators, just as were the Tamper and Power Jack Operators. We wielded a fantastic piece of equipment which was uniquely described as the "shovel" and we were quite adept at providing the proper amount of ballast, where it was needed, immediately upon command. If this was not accomplished in a timely manner, as suggested by our fearless leader Clarence Berry, he became somewhat agitated. I experienced this state of agitation on one occasion, when Clarence felt that my ballast delivery was lacking in enthusiasm. Clarence was such an outstanding leader of men that he immediately removed the shovel from my hands and provided a short demonstration of how this enthusiastic approach to shoveling ballast should be accomplished. It is hard to describe exactly how tickled I got with Clarence's enthusiastic attitude and I think he sensed my less than enthusiastic response. Consequently, Clarence fired me and told me to go sit on the Tamper. Since it was almost lunchtime and I was, at that time, unemployed and far from civilization, I took him up on the offer.
Fortunately for me, after some classic psychological intervention by Ted Adams, the most professional Tamper Operator I have ever known, Clarence hired me back right after lunch was over. If I remember correctly, he came up to me and asked very sternly, "Are you ready to go back to work?" I just smiled and said "Yes sir, Clarence." I don't know what ever happened to Clarence, he'd probably be about 100 years old by now, if he were still alive, but where ever he is, I know that he's resting on his pillow somewhere. Clarence taught me a valuable lesson in life back then. If you're ever going to get fired out in the middle of nowhere, make sure it is right before lunch.
My next two years on the extra gang landed me in the middle between the tie gang and the back gang. This was the most enjoyable place to be for an old hermit like me, because as a bolt machine operator, you are pretty much on your own. Years ago, lengths of rail were connected by two steel bars, one on the inside of the track and one on the outside, which were drilled with holes that matched holes on the rails. Bolts were placed through the holes and secured with washers and nuts. As trains passed over these bolted joints the weight of the train tended to loosen the nuts and at times misshapen the bolts. The highly trained bolt machine operator could either tighten the bolts or replace them, if needed. When I first started this job, my old buddy Johnny Keller was running one machine and I was running the other. During the second year, Johnny left for the service and I wound up running both machines for a short period of time. Out there alone, with the ever present rumble of the bolt machine motors, I sang hundreds of songs and just had a whale of a time. As I sit here now, I think that I may have been very happy just doing that forever, the singing not the working.
Unfortunately, my railroad era had to come to an end and I ventured off to school to make something of myself. It has been a long haul since then, but every time I hear a train whistle blow or watch a freight train going down the tracks, I think of Clarence and often say to myself, "Fill in a little around here." Comments Showing comments in chronological order [Show most recent comments first] |
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These last two blogs brought back so many memories, good and bad, about the summers spent working on the Milwaukee. I guess you can't please everyone (wasn't that from an old Ricky Nelson song?) but I sure enjoyed reading them. My favorite Clarence Barry story was when he got royally chewed out by a highly irate engineer that had barely gotten his train stopped just in time to keep from knocking Teddy Bear's Tamping Machine from here to Kingdom Come. Seems as though Clarence had removed the redboard indicator that was supposed to be to our rear to warn oncoming trains that we were on the track just ahead of them. A minor oversight on the part of our fearless leader. I can still remember that train whistle scaring the *&^%$# out of me and looking up to see the engineer frantically waving us off the track. Luckily the engineer managed to stop his train just short of us, rapidly climbed down out of the cab and climbed all over Clarence. Clarence was the quietest I had ever seen him on the ride back to camp.
Yes C&J's Dad, that was a line from Ricky Nelson's Garden Party. It was you can't please everyone, so you got to please yourself. I don't think Keith pleased Clarence. So much for Ricky's logic. What do you think would have happened if your brother had remained fired? Do you think your Dad would have given Keith spending money for the rest of the summer?
I can answer that Wigs, nope, Dad wasn't in the habit of passing out spending money. I'd have been at the gas station working. But it's all right now, I learned my lesson well.
There are a lot of great memories for me from those days, many of which I can't even write about. We (the extra gang) all lived in small trailers along the road, near where we were working at the time. It provided quite an interesting setting for spending your summer vacations. I remember going back to school in the fall and hearing about places people went for their summer vacations (The Great Smoky Mountains, Grand Canyon, etc.), but I got to go to places like Blanford, Hulman Street and Hoopeston, Illinois. I could surely write a best seller on my experiences at those vacation hot spots. There were things that I saw, heard and did back then that still brings laughter to my heart. No way would I have traded that for trips to the mountains or any other place...oh, I don't know, maybe I would have back then.
Simmons-
I've really enjoyed both of these posts. It's interesting to hear stories of your past, and having C&Js Dad, outnumbered, and JoniBL comments from being apart of it. I'm glad that you've been doing these blogs....its a fun way to learn and reminisce of our past.
Hey Little Girl, I was on a deadline and couldn't come up with anything else. I don't think most common folks have a good appreciation of the extreme pressure on us journalistic giants each and every day of our lives.
Seriously, I thank you for your nice polite comments. It is just more evidence that your parents raised you so well. They must be really great people. :>)
I also worked the mighty Milwaukee on extra gangs with several of my brothers and friends (summer work during college). I remember we were laying rail in Bensenville, a huge railyard.
My twin brother Dan jumped off a hydrospiker to fetch more spikes. Unfortunately, he jumped onto the adjacent track, where an AMtrak was coming through at about 40 mph. With too much machinery noise to be heard, I waved and pointed behind him but he seemed to think my spastic gesturing was some idiot attempt at mime humor. Finally my incessant pointing got Dan to look behind him. He jumped out of the way just in the nick of time. I thought, Hey, I just saved his life and he probably won't even thank me. He didn't (which was OK) and we kept working. At that age, close calls don't even register. Later I thought, you know, I could have doubled my wardrobe had I wanted to (kidding).
As many times that you came close to killing Dan, this life saving event probably didn't get you close to being even with him.
A hydrospiker? What happened to the good old spike mall? You guys had it made.
I worked with 3 of your brothers and I have some fond memories of all 3. Brother Jack and I used to bring pheasant back to camp for Buddy to cook for us. Our hunting techniques probably won't be seen anytime soon on ESPN Outdoors.
Wiglund (what's the story behind that name, anyway?): I agree with Ol' Simmons that he definitely would not have been given spending money over the summer if he had remained fired. But little of the rest of that story was in fact, factual. Seems my "little" brother's memory of the events of that day are somewhat hazy. He was at the time, the bolt machine operator. We shovel operators considered the bolt machine operator one of the "pretty boys" of the extra gang. He ran a machine while we groveled in the gravel, barely coming up for air. It was near the end of a typical hot, dusty day, he had set his bolt machines off the track and had come back to slum with us and had jumped up on the tamper to ride in to camp. We shovel operators weren't finished quite yet, and Clarence had told Ol' Simmons to grab a shovel and help out. Well, that was well below the dignity of a bolt machine operator and he somewhat politely told Mr. Barry that he was done working for that day. After a series of less and less polite exchanges, Mr. Barry told him he was fired. I personally don't think Ol' Simmons cared one way or the other at the time, but Teddy Bear Adams intervened and said something to the effect that if he didn't unfire him, Ol' Simmons Dad would probably kill him, thereby making Mr. Barry an accomplice. I really believe Ted must've had something on Clarence, because he relented and did unfire him on the ride back in. I was always grateful for the exchange between Mr. Barry and Ol' Simmons as it brought us common laborers a little respite from the exhaustive heat and back-breaking drudgery of the day as everyone stopped and watch the drama unfold. Of course, it could be that none of that happened and it was all a combination of my near-collapse, exhausted condition at the time playing tricks on my mind coupled with my current notoriously poor memory. But, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Simmons is Legend. Which means we have an alternative ending. Or perhaps some "Oldheimers" setting in somewhere. No matter, a hellava good story. Personally I have to take notes when I think of something now. I have some memories, but not many. I guess I live in the moment like my dog.
That's just sour grapes coming from an old, senile common laborer, who was jealous of the more skilled machine operators. I tend to just humor him to appease his failing mind. (You'll notice he couldn't even spell Clarence's last name correctly.) He means well and his poor unselfish wife does all she can to contain these emotional outbursts, but I'm afraid the senility has progressed to such an advanced stage that even she can't control him anymore. Those years of shoveling under the harsh tutelage of Clarence Berry, I'm sorry to say, have finally taken their toll on the poor chap. It is hard to believe that they still allow him to teach young children and I'm concerned that it is the primary reason why so many of the Carmel students have been left behind.
Whenever I read your blogs I can't help but be reminded of the humorist Dave Barry, so naturally my mind, which is sadly operating woefully below its once average level crossed up the spelling of Clarence's last name. I fully admit we shovel operators were extremely jealous of the machine operators. Most of them wore suits and ties as I recall and seldom broke a sweat. I do know for sure that in all my years as a licensed teacher I've never taught at a Carmel school. All 13 years have been at Westfield Middle, where every kid is above average and most are gifted and talented. If you don't believe me, just ask their parents. :-)
So, what happened to the tracks in the photo? A massive flood? Earthquake?
great stories! now i know what you were doing that made you smell so bad when you came home. i don't have too many stories from the job Dad got me...car hop at the tastee freeze (a.k.a. the pink barn). your's paid more too, sorry Dick.
Great stories Keith. I knew we had lots and lots in common and it just keeps getting more and more. My dad owned a DX station here in Owensburg when I was a kid and my grandpa work on the Milwaukee Railroad for forty years! He started out way back working on the extra gangs and at one point mom and her family lived in a box car! Was good to see you Saturday.
C&J's Dad I know now how that kid shot a 99. My great-nephew shot the same score last week in a match. First you hit into a hazard, then you ground your club, then you hit a rock and your ball bounces back and hits your bag,that makes four penalty shots, and then you three putt for a nine on one hole. I normally do not like bad-beat stories but this kid is special to me. I like the story of labor for money, and obviously you received more than money, a work ethic that you have not forgotten which can not be bought with money. And for a bonus you got some great memories so you could reminisce with your old friends, just like the irrepressible little Ricky. I knew that picture above your story a few weeks ago reminded me of something. hopeanddust that was not a natural disaster that made the curves in the track, that is just how Simmons does things when he is getting paid by the hour. And you should hear him sing.
B ball fan: the funny thing is, a 9 is one of your good scores when you shoot 99 for 9 holes. Or maybe it's a sad thing.
VA4Lovers: still haven't found anyone to beat, but I did tie Chris yesterday at Pebble Brook, 82 all. Before we started he said he couldn't remember the last time he actually hit a golf ball. My kind of opponent.
That wavy section of track is right before the back gang straightens it out with the Liner. "Nothin' could be finer, than settin' off the Liner, in the Mornin'"
That wavy track was disturbed by an earthquake down in Peru in the 70's, I do believe.
My mistake on the Carmel School comment, I was under the assumption that Westfield was a Middle School that fed Carmel H.S. (Maybe I was wrong)
It was great to see the HillTopRanch couple the other night at French Lick. Super people. Spent a wonderful evening down there with Joe Hart and Wigs, just donating to the cause.
Also, I had a great time with hopeand dust again Friday evening. My youngest son, Jay and his S.O., Rebekah came in for the night and we ate some of the best steaks ever cooked in Greene County. I've never gone to that Pepperoni Grill without having a great meal and a wonderful conversation. I wish I could buy stock in that place.
I'm awfully proud of Jay, he graduates from ISU this week. He and Rebekah will be moving to Nashville in a few weeks. That will be my 3rd college grad heading out to the work force. Great kids, all of them.
Just trying to get all of them to set up an extra bedroom for Ol' Simmons to crash in during the summer and I'll just hang out with Mom and Nick in the winter.
Congratulations to Jay. I enjoy seeing more young people be successful and pay into social security. It won't do them much good, but it should last long enough for me and the other Boomers.
Carmel has 2 junior high/middle schools, Carmel (where C&J attended) and Clay. Westfield High School only has one, Westfield Middle School.
If you're in FL all winter, there's no hope of ever beating you at golf. And you'll also get really good at dominoes, too.
I think rigor mortis has set in on this blog.
How about a new one on your adventures as a West Point cadet, some more about life in Alaska, your time at Ft. Hood serving under LTC Kurtz or another Presidential history one.
Thought I'd give you some ideas just in case you were suffering from writer's block and couldn't come up with any. It's probably a little early to start re-running old topics or compiling a "best of Ol' Simmons blogs".
I would be interested in learning more about Mr. Clarence Berry, my grandfather, Johnnie Berry also worked on the railroad, he had some brothers and I don't know all of there names.
Thanks,
Mike