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ISBN 1-59201-026-1
Books Unbound E-Publishing Co.
http://www.booksunbound.com
Publication June 2004
Cover Art by D. Lee
Hot Rail!
Dr. Blair Reynolds and Shellie Hurrle
Copyright 2003
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and occurrences are either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not the goal of the author or Books Unbound.
Americans need to go on a spectacular romp, take a sentimental journey into the country's true heartland. If we are going to get dragged into the twenty-first century kicking and screaming, let us do it as loudly and proudly as we can, while carrying the past in our hearts forevermore. As the steam locomotive is the undeniable plaything of the American people, let us all become pilgrims on the quest for the sanctity of steam.
--Hogger Annie
Letters to the Editor excerpt
Fairbanks Daily News-Miner
January 2, 2000
Part One
Chapter One
All Aboard!
If you are lucky enough to be a tourist in Fairbanks, you are in for a rare treat, for you will find nostalgia at every corner--especially if you arrive at a certain railroad crossing at precisely 12:17 P.M. on July 6, 2001.
Simply head down Airport Way to University Avenue and take a left. Travel about a quarter mile until you reach "the crossing," directly across the street from Sourdough Sue's, a favorite local watering hole. If you time it right, you will arrive to see the gates lower and hear the familiar ding-dong-ding.
If you're coming by cab, don't worry about the meter. Most hospitable drivers will turn it off. In fact, they'll likely get out of the cab before you do. Why are you still sitting in the car as others practically leap from their vehicles, excitedly slamming the doors behind them? You glance over at Sourdough Sue's, where the lunchtime customers are pouring out as if the place were on fire. When a trooper pulls to a stop in the opposite lane, you wonder if you've done something wrong in Fairbanks. You reluctantly climb out of the car.
"What's the buzz, cuz?" you ask no one in particular.
"She'll be here any minute," a tall man in cowboy boots tells you.
"Hey, Al," someone says to the cowboy, "I called the roundhouse. They're only five minutes behind. Had a hot bearing on the left crankpin and had to put in powdered graphite, but they're on their way. Who's on the front end today?"
A plump young woman next to him says, "I already told you this is doubleheader day--the 4449 and the new 2-10-4, Texas. The T-1 is still in the shop being readied for the race next week."
"That ain't the way I heard it!" a loud voice says behind you. "I thought the race was off."
Before you can ask what they're talking about, you become aware of an intense argument somewhere in front of you. People are heatedly debating whether someone called Hogger Annie is going to cut the helper off and deadhead it back alone, or if the engine will stay on all the way to Anchorage. They toss about the pros and cons but do agree on one thing: the 3-percent grade at Tunnel 21 is one hell of a pull.
You again open your mouth to find out what's going on when there is a tap on your shoulder. A quiet voice says, "Can I ask a favor, mister, without you taking offense or thinking I'm a weirdo?" You turn to see a short, fat man wiping the sweat off his shiny head. He is dressed in an outlandish pinstriped outfit covered with railway logos from the Pennsy, the Milwaukee, the Central Vermont, and more. A walking ad for a 1950s Lionel catalog, he's holding a little boy.
"My name is Mo Gruzblatz," he says. "I'm with the Princess tour." He points to a large tour bus from which a stream of jostling tourists is emerging, each trying to get ahead of the other. "If I give you fifty bucks, will you let little Mo stand on top of your cab, so he can have a better view?" Little Mo, who couldn't be more than two, is also dressed like a train catalog and is busy drooling all the way from the Canadian Pacific to the Baltimore & Ohio.
You look around for the cabdriver, but he seems to have disappeared. "Okay," you say, "but forget the money. He can't hurt anything."
"Thanks. If you ever get to Brooklyn, look me up. I run a drugstore there." He lifts his son onto the hood of the cab, holding him tightly. "Now, little Mo, I want you to listen to what Daddy says. You will remember this doubleheader for the rest of your life. You'll never experience anything like this back home."
"Hey, did you hear about the new loco the Heartland just bought?" a local guy who had been dining at Sourdough's asks his pal. "The Bessemer and Lake Erie 2-10-4!"
"The restored engine from Pittsburgh? Why'd they sell it?"
"Well, it was so big they were afraid to run it. But you know these Heartland railroaders. Fearless."
Goose bumps rise on your flesh as you begin to understand the sanctity of this moment.
An overly loud radio in the car next to you bursts to life and the DJ says exuberantly, "We are proud to present, live and in the studio, our very own Cab-Forward Caffeine Confusion, singing their newest song, 'Yo, Hogger Annie.'"
"Coooome on, all you train buffs, lay on some earrrrrr; gonna tell you a story 'bout an Alaskan engineer. Yo, Hogger Annieeee is her name, and runnin' steam is her--"
"Yo, Joe!" A burly trucker has gotten out of the truck behind you. "Shut off them hollerin' cats, and you and Willie shake a leg over here. I got 'em on the CB." In addition to the two men, at least a dozen others head over to the truck, and you find yourself following. Everyone strains hard to hear the radio, and you halfway expect to find yourself in a time warp, hearing Churchill announce that the invasion is on.
"Wait, everyone can hear if I put it on my PA," the trucker says. Boom-boom-boom-chug-boom!
With all the background noise, you barely hear someone say, "This is Hogger Annie. I have approach medium on my cab signals."
"Confirm, H. A.," a voice answers. "You have a big approach medium at Signal 234. Dispatch."
"Well, I'm going to cut 'em off. There are too many people up there."
"Cut off what?" you ask.
"The cocks," replies the trucker. "Shhhh!"
You don't normally appreciate people hushing you, but you admire the locals' refreshing dedication to this momentous occasion.
A lanky man sporting an unkempt beard frantically hands out leaflets as he makes his way through the crowd. You take one.
Heartland Railroad Public Warning Issuance No. 212
Public must be aware that steam engines produce steam by burning coal. This process creates cinders that can cause burns. You are warned to keep a safe distance of at least two hundred feet. We are not responsible for injuries or damaged clothing.
Although you read it carefully, it only makes you yearn for closer, more intimate contact with the impending giant. The crowd surrounding you seems to agree, as nearly two hundred people step collectively closer to the tracks, cameras and camcorders in hand. You would think the Mother Ship was about to land or that Lincoln's funeral train was passing.
The ground suddenly trembles beneath your feet. WHOOOOOO! WHOOOOOO! WHOO! WHOOOOOO! As a ringing bell increases in intensity, you swear you hear a mighty band playing "The Stars and Stripes Forever." The trooper takes off his hat and places it over his heart.
"Fairbanks Community Band," a voice explains behind you. "Eighty strong." You can't see where they are playing because of the swelling, engulfing crowd, so you rally for a closer position and breathlessly watch the light down the track.
"Here she comes, here she comes!" A man who's a hundred years old if he's a day jumps up and down as if he's discovered gold. "The engineer is a woman!" he shouts. "The engineer is a womaaaan!"
"Jesus, old man Applebaum allows lady drivers," a man in front of you says.
A teenaged girl next to him says, "Excuse me? Women are into everything these days. Why not run trains?" The crowd within hearing distance appears entranced by this proposition.
As the light grows brighter, you see that it's attached to an iron monster, which is becoming bigger by the second. The ground beneath your feet vibrates violently. Part of you wants to run, but you're too mesmerized by the chuffing stack to move a muscle. Seconds later, steam engulfs you and tickles your throat as your face glows from the heat. Ten driving wheels almost as tall as you go rolling past, although you can only see five from this side. You don't remember when you started waving your right arm.
You realize that a figure--all cap, goggles, and gloves, one of which is holding a cigar--is waving back as it passes high over your head. Wasn't the engineer supposed to be a woman? Could any person handle this beast of a machine? Regardless of the person's sex, you feel as if you have seen God.
Fleetingly, and so close you're sure you could touch the rivets, a gigantic two-story tender appears before you. Appropriately, it is coal black--a deeper and darker black than you knew existed. A nine-foot Raggedy Ann doll in a parka is painted on the side. She holds a six-foot sledgehammer in her left hand, an oversized cobalt blue lantern in her right, and a huge red heart is painted beside her. I LOVE TRAINS is written on the heart in glittering gold letters. As you are about to scream, "You are one hell of a doll, Raggedy Ann!" more steam quickly surrounds you. You can hardly see, but you do not care. You briefly wonder why there is more steam back by the tender, but then nod your head in understanding. Doubleheader surely means two locos pulling one train. You've instinctively picked up steam-ese without even trying.
The second monster passes you by, each of its eight drivers at least a foot taller than you. They seem to be talking to you personally. "Come-a-long, come-a-long, come-a-long!" they chant loudly. Another goggles-gloves-cap-laden figure appears eerily over your head, reaching out of the cab for something that a man near you is extending from a large shepherd's hook. "Nineteens!" the man shouts to the crowd around him. "She grabs the entire crook, so she won't drop 'em!" he says.
Still puzzled, you quickly turn your attention to another sizable Raggedy Ann, extending your arm as if to touch her. She is too high. She is holding a sign painted in black letters: Downhill Slow, Uphill Fast. Safety First, Tonnage Last. The Heartland Railroad--Route of the Awesome Dolls. You instinctively shout, "God bless Raggedy Ann and the United States of America!"
The cars rumble past you rather quickly, yet, at the same time, they almost appear to be moving slowly, as if underwater. You vow to explore this phenomenon later. For now, you are too intent on the cars' exotic names, numbers, colors, and sounds that flood your eyes and ears: silver, 1474, Cochite; silver, 1117, City of Salina; red and yellow, 8765, Abraham Lincoln; Tuscan red, 7600, New Brunswick. On and on they roll.
You finally see the source of the music you heard earlier. An old open observation car from the Ringling Brothers circus is trailing along behind the other cars. As it strikes up a spirited rendition of "Men of Harlich," everyone in the crowd, including you, puts their hands over their hearts and recites the Pledge of Allegiance. The train slows a bit, then speeds up.
"Hogger just gave her a six-pounder!" someone says.
"What?" another voice asks.
"Hogger gave 'em a six-pound reduction! Stretches 'em out so they don't rattle on the switch up by Illinois Street!"
You have no idea what they are talking about, except that you deeply wish you could be the one to stretch them out, or whatever.
Yes, that was a very special crossing in Fairbanks.
****
Helpful as they may be, local guidebooks from the tourist bureau do not tell the whole story. They all read much the same way: Officially opened in 1995, after fifteen years of construction, the Heartland Railroad is Alaska's pride and joy. Over five million tourists from all over the world have visited this railroad, which stretches from Fairbanks to Anchorage, through well over four hundred miles of scenic wilderness. Electrical catenary wires run above the double track, which is equipped with three rails for running narrow gauge.
The Heartland brochure gives a much better incentive to visit: Unwind your mechanical muscles and run enormous eighty-inch-diameter drivers up to eighty while handling the Pennsy's supersteamer T-1. Perhaps you picture yourself at the controls of the mighty 2-10-4, Texas. This baby weighs 901,340 pounds and carries twenty-three thousand gallons of water and twenty-five tons of coal while hauling a 110-car freight.
Well, now you can let off steam and have the ride of your life--free. Yes, that's right. There's no cost or obligation. Simply enroll in Applebaum's one-year training course. You must live through a winter in Fairbanks to do so, but that's a small price to pay for such a marvelous opportunity.
So if you are tired of being a mechanical weakling, don't know a mud ring from your wedding ring, and want to speak steam-ese like a pro, let the Heartland put you on the seatbox. Space fills quickly so don't delay. Call 1-800-WHOO-HOO today!
****
If you are unable to commit to a course, at least visit our downtown station while you're here. It's located at the corner of Cushman and First streets (or Two Street as the locals call it, honoring the custom of referring to First and Second streets simultaneously).
The massive eighteen-story log structure boasts offices, classrooms, and conference rooms, as well as sleeping quarters for students. Be forewarned: you will have to take the world's longest underground escalator ride to reach the train platforms thirteen stories below ground. At least you don't have to haul your luggage yourself. Check your bags at the ticket window, and they'll be transported to the bottom via the same elevator that services those in wheelchairs. There's no charge for tickets. Applebaum only requires them because he knows his guests appreciate the authenticity he provides.
As you reach the bottom level of the station, Applebaum's propensity for classic style becomes evident, so forget those images of dark, filthy, vagrant-filled train stations. You have returned to an era when opulence reigned the rails and guests traveled in high style.
The first thing you notice is the immense ceiling rising sixty-five feet above the floor and boasting a stained glass reproduction of the Sistine Chapel ceiling. Enormous open-air ventilator shafts allow natural light to fill the station. Should it be cloudy outside, the specially designed lightning system will be engaged, reproducing the effects of natural sunlight. Flanking an antique thirty-foot clock tower are five clocks with the current times for Eastern, Central, Mountain, Pacific, and Heartland Railroad Official Standard Time, which is really Alaska time.
The headphone-wearing announcer is perched in an adjacent wooden tower. Don't be surprised if you hear him say, "At FAO Schwarz on Track 9, we are literally giving away our lovable Raggedy Ann potty-training dolls--a must for every tot. Press her little stitched heart to hear her say, 'I am not like Pa, I am like sis; put down the lid for me to piss.' This week only, these dolls are a steal at just $49.95."
Yes, you heard correctly. FAO Schwarz is just one of the many upscale businesses surrounding the nineteen tracks. Refresh yourself at one of the on-site pubs or snack bars, purchase a souvenir at the gift shop, or browse for clothing at Nordstrom. You'll even find a massage parlor!
To help time pass when trains are delayed, Applebaum contracted the university drama department to recreate train departure and arrival scenes from famous movies. You might hear the announcer say, "For your edification and entertainment, at 4:25 on Track 11, the Gandy Dancer Players will present the arrival of Evita in Buenos Aires. At 5:08 on Track 6, they will present the departure of Hercules Poirot on the Orient Express, as adapted from the famous Agathie Christie thriller. We also remind you to attend the grand slam marathon that will take place at 8:16 tonight on Track 17. You'll see the scenes from every Sherlock Holmes movie that starred Basil Rathbone." The acts get more outlandish: "At 6:44 tomorrow evening, on Track 3, The University of Alaska Wind Ensemble will present 'Music for a Fast Ride on a Mean Machine,' featuring the works of Vincent Persichetti, William Walton, and Peter Tchaikovsky. You won't want to miss the excitement as the band performs atop trains speeding through the tunnels."
While you're enjoying the day's entertainment, the red caps--or porters, as you might call them--are busy delivering your luggage to your car. Unlike the airports with those annoying security checkpoints, your boarding will be conducted in the classy, old-fashioned way, complete with red carpet. The clocks chime throughout the underground station as the departures are announced: "Official Heartland Railway Standard Time is 3:10. Now leaving on Track 19, the pride of the fleet, the Black Diamond Limited. All aboard for Anchorage." The limiteds don't stop along the way, but if you wish to witness the real Alaska as you meander south, there is another option: "Hop aboard the Sourdough Milk Run, now leaving on Track 12. We'll be stopping at North Pole and Eielson AFB; then backtrack west before traveling south through Clear, McKinley Park, and all other connecting stops to Anchorage. For your safety and convenience, please observe all Raggedy Ann signs."
Steamers cannot travel through the underground tunnels because of the risk from the noxious stack. Enter the easy-to-operate electric Moles, which speed through the tunnels to deliver the passenger cars to the roundhouse, where the steam engines then take over for the trip. The black Moles are often referred to as shoeboxes because of their rectangular shape. Because of their nondescript appearance, you may mistake one of them for your passenger car and try to board it. The Heartland crew handled that dilemma by placing large Raggedy Ann cutout signs by the engines: I love trains and so do you, but this old engine is for the crew. If you want to ride the front and go real fast, you'll have to take an intensive class. Don't be afraid to ask a conductor to check your ticket and point you in the right direction.
When it's time to depart, the conductor will shout, "All aboard!" and wave the lantern up and down to signal the engineer. Sit back and enjoy the ride as you're whisked through five miles of dark tunnels. Keep your camera handy, for in minutes you will emerge from the pitch-dark tunnels into the Birthday Cake, the world's largest roundhouse, with its eighty stalls.
Experience firsthand the excitement, romance, and real-life drama of engine dispatching as the Mole is uncoupled and one of the powerful steamers is readied for your trip.
It is no wonder so many Alaskans' cars proudly display a prominent bumper sticker: C-57 22/30 187. IF YOU CAN DECODE THIS, KISS APPLEBAUM'S ASS.
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This is a sample chapter from the e-book
Hot Rail!
by
Dr. Blair Reynolds and Shellie Hurrle
We at
Books Unbound E-Publishing Co.
www.booksunbound.com
hope you will enjoy the entire book!
Authors' Biographies
Dr. Blair Reynolds holds a B.A. in psychology, an M.S. in clinical psychology, and a Ph.D. in theology. Influenced by the teachings of Alfred North Whitehead, Charles Hartshorne, and medieval Christian mystics, he is the author of Toward a Process Pneumatology, The Naked Being of God, and a novel titled One Night in a Strange Blue Light. Dr. Reynolds has presented forty theological papers at major schools in the United States and Europe, including the United States Military Academy and the Pontificia Universita Gregoriana in Rome. In 1993, Dr. Reynolds was listed in Who's Who in Biblical Studies and Archaeology. An avid amateur musician, Dr. Reynolds plays trumpet with the University of Alaska Wind Ensemble, the Fairbanks Community Band, and the Fairbanks Light Opera Theater.
A lifelong steam buff, Dr. Reynolds is currently a member of the engine crew for No.1, the first locomotive to go to the Yukon. He is a state-licensed boiler operator and on the board of the Tanana Valley Railroad, which received a sizable state grant to start a railway museum. Dr. Reynolds lives in Fairbanks, Alaska, with his wife Debbie (a social worker) and two cocker spaniels.
Shellie Hurrle was born with a love of words and an inherent command of the English language. She began reading at the age of four and writing soon followed. A published author, her work has appeared online and in numerous print publications. From travel writing to children's literature, trade articles to reviews, she has written about a variety of topics, as well as ghostwritten many pieces.
Also a longtime freelance editor, she enjoys assisting both published and unpublished authors in readying their manuscripts for publication. She has had her work praised in various book acknowledgements. You can contact her regarding editing/writing services at shelliehurrle@flairforwords.com or visit her Website: Flair for Words
Besides reading and writing, Shellie spends most of her time with her fabulous husband of fifteen years and her three beautiful children. She also enjoys traveling, gardening, shopping, and working out. She and her family live in a suburb of Portland, Oregon.
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