September 2003                                The Megaphone                                             Page 7

On A Scale of One to Ten

 . . .  this was a ten, WOW!

I guess the best place to start is at the beginning, so here goes.

It was a bright and warm day, a perfect day to go to the state fair, and away we went! Leaving Anderson early on a weekday morning, we traveled to Fishers, IN. The interstate was crowded and at places at a dead stop. I was relieved to leave such terrible traffic and get to our destination, the local train station.

We were early, yet the weather was comfortably warm so we stayed outside and waited, sitting in outside furniture. I remember not too long ago we talked about the people-watching of the '50s and I do believe the pastime is just as interesting today as it was over 50 years ago. Why, we even recognized some Elwoodites.

Right on time, Here Comes Da Train! We all board the "Fair Train" for a thirty minute ride right to the fairground gate. The people working on board are all volunteers from the train museum in Noblesville. We get on and find seats along with many just like us, going down to the fair for the day. I suppose one could say it was a non-eventful trip, no stops, just a nice even trip, right to the gate of the fairgrounds. The scenery was one of woods and much greener pastures that I had expected to see.

After several hours at the fair and dragging a bit, we returned to catch our ride back to Fishers. We sat and waited as people boarded, then got on ourselves, almost last. The trainman was there to help each passenger up and as I climbed aboard he told us, "Up the steps and to the right." Marvin asked, "All the way to the engine?"

"No, no, no, you can't ride there! There was a short pause before he added, "Well, that's not completely true. For a $25 donation to the museum, you can ride in the engine."

"Do it!" I told him. "Naw, I've done that lots of times and I don't need to do it now." Secretly I think he just wanted to ride with me. They were starting to shut the doors when I decided if he wasn't going to, why not me? I hollered at the trainman, working a few seats ahead asking him if I could ride with the engineer and was told IF I could find the conductor, he's the one that decides who can.

I found him quickly and practically shoved the $25 at him as he said, "OK, but we really have to hurry as the train is ready to roll and we're not going to be late." I promised to keep up with him so he agreed and said we'd go up through the train as it was more comfortable, being air conditioned. We were nine cars back and that's quite a hike at the best of times, but we were in a hurry and I broke into a run keeping up with him, and keep up I did!

At last we came to a dead stop as he turned to me and said this was the baggage car. It was big and empty. "We'll go through that small door over there and walk through the engine, it will be noisy so we won't talk. It's very noisy, very dirty, and in some places the floor is dangerous with oil and or water. Now is the time to change your mind and go back if you want."
 
I looked at him and said, "If I can jump out of an airplane at 13,000 feet, a little noise and dirt won't hurt me!" It was as though those were magic words, he broke into a huge grin and said, "Well then, let's go!"

It was awesome, there I was inside a working diesel locomotive, one that was running! So help me I could have sat down right there on the floor and just watched that engine for the rest of the day! The walkway was only about a foot and a half wide, and yes it was very dirty and yes it was very noisy, but it was great!

We passed through a door into the cab, a somewhat quieter compartment where one could talk at a raised voice or shout into another's ear. That's where I met Mr. Zimmerman, a retired train engineer, sitting on the right, and his brakemen, on the left, a fellow about 40 who told me he was an air conditioning specialist. This puzzled me as I thought all personnel would be experienced train people. There was a third seat in the middle of the cab in which I was invited to sit in, however I couldn't see the working panel in front of the engineer so I stood to the left and in back of him for the whole trip holding on to the back of his seat.

When I write of my different experiences I attempt to get into the mind of the players and this time was no different. One could go to the internet or the library to find out how a train works and who does what job, but that wasn't my purpose.

Why did a retired engineer drive a train, why did the brakemen brake and why did the conductor conduct?

Mr. Zimmerman seemed to enjoy explaining to me all the workings of his responsibility and why he did what he did to get the train moving. He explained the two bigger dials on his control panel. The most important was the amps dial and the second was the speed dial at any given time. The amount of electricity was of the utmost importance and I'm sorry to say most of what he told me sailed right over my head. I stood there attempting to look as smart as I could and ask intelligent questions. He and the brakemen had a break lever, both painted red. He said they regularly tested the breaks, of course when no passengers were present. That was not the case just the day before when all breaks were thrown to stop when they hit a foolish driver trying to beat them  across the tracks. They were very pleased at how the train performed and stopped so quickly. Catching the tail end of a rogue truck all were thankful no one was injured.

I found myself watching the crossings until I'd see a vehicle on either side of the tracks stop, then a sigh of relief would escape my lips. In just that short trip two drivers raced across the tracks beating us there just by a few feet. We were going only 30 miles per hour and in no way could stop in time. Why, oh why, do humans do such foolishly stupid things...!!?

The brakeman watched the traffic on the left side of the train and the engineer the right. Because of the shape of the engine, one couldn't see out of both sides from one seat. Ours was built in the early '50s. It's retired now and only does excursions from The Indiana Transportation Museum.

After we were in the train yard and still moving I was allowed to pull the whistle - not before. Every sound and timing of sound has a special meaning, all the long and short toots mean different things and must be sounded at precise times and locations.

After we stopped the conductor took me back into the engine again for a more in-depth tour, his engine. It surprised me to learn there were 32 cylinders, all working smoothly. I had to laugh when he explained that the whole engine had a muffler! "What on earth for?" I asked.

"Oh, you can't imagine how loud it is without mufflers," he said, "and besides, the engineer wouldn't like that much noise all the time." Well, that made sense to me.

Eventually we stepped back into the cab as the brakeman swung down the ladder steps and onto the ground. With the door wide open, I looked down. Trust me when I say . . . it's much farther looking down than standing on the ground looking up. As I peeped down at the steps I could only see one and decided it looked much too dangerous to try to escape that way but the conductor said, "You do want to whole experience, don't you?"

Somewhat hesitant I said, "Well sure." There were only three steps where, in my opinion should have been about 10. Each one was more inward, turning towards the underbelly of the engine. There was no way I could see where to put my feet.  He said, "You start and I'll guide your feet." He practically slid down in a second and it was evident he'd had years of practice doing just that. Good to his word he guided my feet and soon I was beside him on the ground, safe once again.

He continued showing and explaining to me the undercarriage of the mighty monster. There was what looked like a pipe that went along and down at an angle to stop inches from the track right in front of the first wheels. I asked about that and he said, "Haven't you seen all the sand besides the tracks before, all those little hills of sand?"  Oh sure, I thought to myself. "The sand is released when traction is needed on slippery tracks."

Marvin had caught up with us by now and I introduced him as we said our good-by's amongst several grateful thank-you's.

Do you remember earlier, I told you the brakeman was an air conditioning specialist? The conductor's words after learning that fact keep haunting me. He said at that time, "Anybody can be part of the crew as long as they're a volunteer member of the museum."

"Do you mean to tell me I could wear a uniform and perform tasks aboard this train?"

"Sure. I do. As long as you're willing to learn you can have any job you want."

"Well, what if I want to drive the train?"

"You can do that too, as long as you learn and pass the test. We have several women that are members of our cab crew." That absolutely blew me away with surprise! I'd never consider engineer, but brakeman? . . . well, why not? Marvin had worn that uniform for many years and all of a sudden I envied him all those experiences.

Oh, my dears, life is very good, so sweet and seasoned with surprises that will blow your socks off. All you have to do is watch for them. Chances are, there's one just around your corner. Don't miss it!

Being married to a train buff for eleven and a half months, I've learned at least one thing. How do you know when a train has just passed by? It leaves its tracks.

I remain, with adventure in my heart and a song in my soul,
JJ aka Julie (Stout) Crim '57
Anderson, IN