Sunday, January 27, 2008

21 Years On The Erie Railroad

In 1944 the main headquarters of the Erie Railroad Company were located in the Midland Building, Cleveland, Ohio. The Erie at that time issued pay checks twice a month, on the 15th and the last day of the month.

The checks for the employees that worked in my home town always arrived on eastbound passenger train Number 6 on the evening before the actual pay day. It was the custom to give out the pay check before the actual pay day if the employee wanted it, even though the check could not be cashed until the actual date on the check.

A man who worked on the track gang at that time was known to us as "The Swede." I never knew his actual name. He was probably 5 feet 11 inches tall, bald as an egg, very strong. I once saw him pick up a full-size railroad tie and carry it to the place where it was needed. A legend has it that "The Swede" could pick up a piece of rail by himself. His foreman saw it happen, told him to double-up with the rail. "The Swede" took it to mean that he should carry two pieces of rail, and he did. As I mentioned, this is a legend. There were many legends on the railroad.

Anyway, "The Swede" had a little business going on the side. It worked like this: he would meet Number 6 the evening before each pay day. Those who wanted their checks at that time would wait for the ticket clerk to hand out the checks. The next stop was to see "The Swede." "The Swede" would cash your check for a fee. The fee varied with each person. If your check happened to be in the amount of, say, $100.03, "The Swede" would ask you to sign the check, hand it to him, and he would give you
$100.00, keeping the 3 cents. However, if your check was for $100.97, "The Swede" would give you $100.00, keeping the 97 cents. I don't know whether or not this business was legal, but it surely did prove popular with those who didn't want to wait until next day to cash their checks.

I never saw "The Swede" without money. He was quiet, hardly said a word to anyone. He lived by himself in a little shack next to one of the two rivers that went through our town, and loved to fish. Another legend has it that two brothers of dubious character once decided to rid "The Swede" of some of his money. One of the brothers hit him with a baseball bat. "The Swede" just shrugged it off, threw one of the brothers into the river. The other brother ran, and wasn't seen in town for almost a month. No one else ever tried to take money from "The Swede."

Monday, January 21, 2008

21 Years On The Erie Railroad

I'm going to leave Cleveland for awhile, and go back to my first weeks on the Erie, which would be the summer of 1944.

I had hired out as a baggage and freight handler on May 24, 1944 while still a sophomore in high school. Summer vacation came along; so did a few pay checks.

I had been, ever since I could remember what an airplane was, a nut about airplanes. In those days, there was a huge variety of private airplanes, such as Piper, Taylorcraft, Waco, Stinson, Aeronca, Laird, Travel Air, etc., along with the large commercial planes from Douglas and Boeing, not to mention a few of the old Ford "Tin Goose" tri-motors still flying.

There was a little air port located about 4 miles outside town. Every chance I could, I would beg, wheedle, bribe, or whatever, to get my father to take me out to the airport to watch the planes. This was probably in 1936 or so, and there was lots of activity at the little grass field.

At that time, you could almost count on there being an air show at the airport every summer. Also, a Ford tri-motor usually spent a week there, giving rides. In fact, my first airplane ride was a 20-minute one in a Ford, paid for by my grandfather, God bless him. I don't remember just how much the ride cost, but I imagine, for 1936, it
was expensive.

Back to my first summer on the railroad. After I had a few paychecks under my belt, I called an older friend, who had taken flying lessons, for advice. He put me on the trail of his instructor, who, after thinking about it a bit, said he would be glad to take me up and let me get the feel of handling a plane.

I remember hitch-hiking out to the field one fine summer afternoon. The pilot told me what was going to happen, and how much the first lesson would cost. We agreed to the terms. We took off, and after getting up so far, he told me what to do, and how to do it. I think the plane was a Piper J-3, but it could have been a Taylorcraft, since that was also a popular plane at the little airport.

We rode around for about 20 minutes, I guess. I was awkward, of course, but the pilot seemed to think I was doing all right for the first time. After landing, we talked about further lessons, and I decided to do it, since my pay seemed to be safe for at least the summer.

However, fate stepped in after I had something like 4 hours or so of instruction.

Back in those days, a carnival or a circus, or both, always paid a visit to our little town. The circus would stay just over-night, but the carnival would set up for usually a week. A carnival arrived about mid-Summer and set up. After the first night, the big talk around my circle of friends was that there was someone called a "geek" in the carnival, and that this person would bite off the head of a chicken, for a price. This was stunning news. I made up my mind that I would see it.

The fore-mentioned fate then stepped in. The next day I contacted a case of the German measles. I was advised that I should stay indoors out of the bright sun, and not to read. Of course, I knew better.

As a result, I missed out on seeing the geek. I also lost some of my eye-sight, because I did go outdoors in the bright sun, and did read the funnies.

Also, in those days, a person needed 20/20-vision in order to obtain a pilot's license. I had 20/20 when I started my lessons, but after the measles, I didn't.

So went my dream of flying.

About 20 years ago my wife and I went for a Sunday drive. Our route took us past the new local airport, with paved runways, lights, radio, etc. One of my friends had a 2-place Cessna, was just landing. He taxied up, spotted me, asked if I wanted to go up for awhile. He knew some of my history regarding planes. We took off, got about 150 feet up. He said "It's all yours," and handed it over to me. What a wonderful afternoon! We fooled around a bit, shot some landings, finally landed. I then realized just what I had missed by being a bit foolish.

Friday, January 18, 2008

21 Years On The Erie Railroad

A few weeks after moving into my room on West Blvd., Cleveland, Ohio, I felt secure enough to start looking around the city. At first, it was bewildering, but as I became more used to the heavy traffic and the large crowds, I began to enjoy finding new neighborhoods to explore.

In those days, and I'm talking about 1947, Cleveland was a really thriving city. I had started collecting records at age 16 while in high school, so one of the first things I did was search out record stores. I found a beauty; Record Rendezvous on Prospect Avenue. It became my second home. I made friends with one of the managers and a few of the clerks; they started pointing things out for me, also picking out new releases as they came into the store. I once went too wild, because at the end of one buying spree, I discovered that I was almost out of money, and pay day 10 days away.

For five days I actually lived on bread and water. Once in awhile, one of the fellows at work would invite me into the station's restaurant for coffee and donuts, which, in my condition, was manna from heaven. After getting my next pay, I made the resolve that a bank account would be opened, and that I never again would live on bread and water. I have kept my resolve, even though I have come close to bread and water a few more times in my life.

Since I had no kitchen where I boarded, I had to eat all my meals out. At first, I would ride the Detroit Avenue street car into Public Square, walk to East 9th Street and visit The Forum, a cafeteria. It was a very good place to eat. I hope it is still in business. One day, while walking around my neighborhood, I ran across a truly fine little restaurant named Palmina's. It was located on Detroit Avenue, about a block from my room. It was an Italian restaurant, with terrific service and a friendly staff. It, also, soon became another home-away-from-home. I truly do hope that it is still in business, because it surely was a fine place to eat.

In those days, Cleveland had outstanding public transportation. The rapid transit system ran into The Terminal from the East. In my neighborhood, I could catch a Detroit Avenue street car into Public Square every 20 minutes until, I think, midnight. After midnight, the street car ran every 30 minutes. I, also, could cross over a foot bridge that went over the Nickel Plate Railroad tracks and catch a Madison Avenue car into Public Square. On rush hours, the transit system would hook trailers, heated by charcoal in cold weather, to the regular street cars. One really did not need an auto in those days unless he really was in a hurry, or had a hot date. I would buy a weekly pass for, I believe, $1.50, which entitled me to ride anywhere on the system, and never leave the car. In fact, some of the homeless actually did buy a pass and spend their nights inside on a street car.

There was a fine ballroom at West 25th Street and Clark Avenue, called, I think, the Aragon Ballroom. The ballroom drew the name bands once in awhile. I danced to Vaughn Monroe there, also Hal McIntyre and Elliott Lawrence. I felt sorry for McIntyre and Lawrence. The polka-mad Clevelanders actually booed both bands.

On thinking back, I once was almost run over in traffic on Madison Avenue. I was heading into the city, had missed my Detroit Avenue car, so decided to walk over to Madison Avenue and catch that car. Anyway, I started to cross the street to reach the car stop, and what did I spy but one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen? She appoached, and actually made me stop dead in my tracks, right in the middle of busy Madison Avenue. Horns started blowing, and I almost stepped into the path of an approaching automobile. I never saw her again, but she is remembered.

Monday, January 14, 2008

21 Years On The Erie Railroad

After officially taking the relief job at the Cleveland, Ohio passenger station, I, naturally, had to learn the job. I did receive much help from most of the people involved, expecially the Baggage Agent and the two Asst. Baggage Agents. However, since no one had bid on the job before, the regular people were working their jobs seven days a week, picking up quite a bit of over time. Since I had bid on the job, and been awarded it, I kind of spoiled their nest eggs.

However, I made up my mind that since I bid on the job, was awarded the job, I was going to work the job, come hell or high water. The first month or so was not very happy. Some stumbling blocks were thrown in my path; however, the people involved soon found out that when I made up my mind to do something, I did it. Gradually, things improved, and by the first of March I had just about fit in with everyone.

At that time, the Cleveland passenger station was a very busy place. If memory serves, the day started at 3:30 a.m. with Train Number 687, a train that ran from Pittsburg, Pennsylvania thru to Detroit, Michigan, the routing being Pittsburgh & Lake Erie Railroad from Pittsburgh to Youngstown, Ohio; Erie Railroad from Youngstown to Cleveland, and the New York Central from Cleveland to Detroit. A P&LE engine was used from Pittsburgh to Cleveland, where a NYC engine took over. At 5 a.m. the return move arrived from Detroit, powered by a New York Central engine. The P&LE engine that arrived from Pittsburgh on Train 687 was used to take this train, Train 688 to Pittsburgh. Trains 687 and 688 were almost always powered by a 9200-series Pittsburgh & Lake Erie 4-6-2 Pacific, not as large as the Erie 2900 series Pacifics.

At 8 a.m. Train Number 624 departed, heading to Washington, DC via Erie to Youngstown, P&LE from Youngstown to Pittsburgh, then Baltimore & Ohio Railroad from Pittsburgh to Washington. An Erie engine was used on this run from Cleveland to Youngstow, always a 2900-series Pacific.

Immediately after Train 624 departed, a commuter train arrived from Youngstown, usually powered by a small Erie Pacific, with no baggage or mail cars on the head end. It stopped at almost every station on the route from Youngstown to Cleveland, brought many workers who lived in the small towns to their daily jobs in Cleveland.

After the commuter train arrived, things were quiet until 11:45, when Train Number 625 arrived with coaches and Pullmans from Jersey City, New Jersey. Train 625 started from Jersey City as Train Number 5, The Lake Cities, which was broken up at Youngstown, Ohio. Part of the train went west from Youngstown to Chicago as Train 5, The Lake Cities, while the balance of the train went to Cleveland as Train 625. Both these trains were powered by a 2900-series Pacific.

At 1:00 p.m. Train 626, heading to Youngstown and Pittsburgh departed, powered by an Erie Pacific as far as Youngstown.

Things were again quiet until 3:25 p.m., when Train 685, from Pittsburgh to Cleveland arrived, usually powered by a 2900-series Pacific. This train had coaches for Detroit, but were switched to the Cleveland Terminal by New York Central power.

At 5:15 p.m. Train 686 departed, heading for Youngstown, with a connection there with Train Number 6, The Midlander, heading to Jersey City, and the balance of the train going to Pittsburgh. This train was usually powered by a 2900-series Erie Pacific.

Shortly after Train 686 departed, the Cleveland to Youngstown commuter train departed, with many stops along the way.

Things were again quiet until 9:30 p.m., when Train 623, from Pittsburgh to Cleveland arrived, again powered by a 2900-series Erie Pacific.

And, finally, Train 679 from Pittsburgh to Cleveland arrived at 11:40 p.m., usually powered by a P&LE 9200-series Pacific engine.

Train 679 usually carried a car, called a storage car, almost completely filled with U. S. mail. At that time, an 8-man crew, not employed by the Erie Railroad, came in about midnight to help with the mail. I'm not really sure who they worked for, but they surely did do a wonderful job in clearing up the mail. In fact, all of the trains arriving or departing from the Cleveland passenger station carried U. S. mail, with the exceptions of the two commuter trains. Most of the trains carried something called a R. P. O. car (Railway Post Office car), with a usual 4-man crew, and this crew sorted and bagged mail enroute.

More later about my adventures on the Erie Railroad in Cleveland.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

21 Years On The Erie Railroad

World War II ended in 1945. I graduated from high school in May of 1946, decided not to go to college right away. Due to the end of the war, the economy slowed up a bit, the G. I. s came home, and I found myself out of a job in my home town.

I checked the Erie Railroad job list every day, finally found one that looked interesting. It was located in the Erie Railroad Passenger Station, Cleveland, Ohio. Old timers from Cleveland will remember that the Erie at that time did not run into the Terminal Building, had its own passenger station located at West 9th. Street and Superior Avenue, directly under the Detroit-Superior high level bridge. The job was one of many duties; baggage porter, janitor, baggage agent and assistent baggage agent, with one day per week off. I bid on the job, was awarded it.

I rode Number 5 to Cleveland to look over the job, decided to take it. The passenger agent kindly looked through the Cleveland papers, found me a room on West Blvd., just off Detroit Avenue. The room was $5.00 per week, was just a sleeping room with a comfortable bed, a closet, and a desk. There were two other rental rooms in this large house, both occupied. We shared a bathroom. No kitchen, so all my meals had to be eaten out. I decided to take the room, moved in on January 15, 1947, and stayed for two years and three months. More later.

Sunday, January 6, 2008

21 Years On The Erie Railroad

After working a few months for the Erie, I began to take an interest in locomotives. At that time, the Erie had five types of mainline power: the 2-8-0 Consolidation, the 2-8-2 Mikado,the 2-8-4 Berkshire, the 2-10-2 Santa Fe, and for the mainline passenger trains, the K-5 4-6-2 Pacific. The Pacifics, especially, impressed me. They had 79-inch drivers, some had the Box-Pox drive wheels, were usually very-well kept. I have always felt that the Erie's Pacifics deserved more press, should have been placed in the same category as the K-4 Pacifics on the Pennsylvania, or the New York Central Hudsons.

During World War II, a person might see many odd combinations of motive power on the passenger trains. It was not at all unusual to see Number 7, a train that carried an unusual amount of mail and Railway Express, to be double-headed with a Pacific leading, and a Berkshire for help. It was not unusual, either, to see a Berkshire subbing for a Pacific. I think the most unusual combination I can remember was Number 7 arriving about 2 hours late on a very cold December day, with a 2-10-2 leading, and one of the light 2700-series Pacifics cut in behind it for steam heat to the coaches.

The 2700-series were rarely seen on the Mahoning Division, where I was located. However, one Sunday afternoon I listened in on the dispatcher's wire, which I usually did when I had nothing else to do. The dispatcher reported that there was a "main train," the Erie's designation for a special train, heading East, powered by a 2700-series Pacific. The train happened to be a troop train of 12 cars. The Mahoning Division, for those not familiar with the Erie, took in the territory from Kent, Ohio in the West to Meadville, Pannsylvania in the East. The territory could be called "saw-toothed," in that there was very little level ground on the whole division, and eastbound was mostly up-hill.

The eastbound troop train finally came into sight. The little Pacific was struggling, but made it. I heard later that the only reason the engine was used on that particular movement was that the engine was heading "home" to New Jersey to go back into commuter service, where it belonged.

My interest in locomotives caused me to start exploring the power on the other railroads that served my home town. The other two railroads were the Pennsylvania, on the Pittsburgh-Erie Branch, and the Bessemer & Lake Erie, a coal and iron ore-hauling railroad, running from North Bessemer, Pennsylvania north to Erie, Pennsylvania, with a branch to Conneaut, Ohio. The Pennsylvania used a large variety of power, but my favorites were the 2-10-0 Decapods and the 2-10-2 Santa Fe types. One type, and I can't remember which one, had a very shrill whistle, called by some of the old-timers around town a "banshee" whistle. There was one passenger train North to Erie, PA at 11:30 a.m., and a return South to Pittsburgh at 5:25 p.m. The passenger train usually had a K-4 for power, with a beautiful steam-boat type whistle. Once in awhile, if there was a heavy consist, a 4-8-2 Mountain would be used.

The Bessemer & Lake Erie used the huge 2-10-4 Texas-type 600-series engines. Heading south, with iron ore, they used one 600 on the head end, with another 600 pushing on the rear, with the caboose behind the pusher. The Bessemer also used some 2-10-2 Santa Fe types when traffic got heavy. The railroad also ran one passenger train southbound to North Bessemer, which left at 7 a.m., with a return at 5 p.m., and a northbound passenger train to Erie, PA, which left at 7:05 a.m., and returned at
5:15 p.m. The passenger trains were powered by light Pacifics, probably comparable to the Erie's 2700-series.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

21 Years On The Erie Railroad

After I had become acquainted with the various train crews, and they knew who I was and where I worked, I started to get acquainted with the railroad.

There were two trains, numbers 10, eastbound daily except Monday, and number 11, westbound daily except Tuesday. These trains were mail and express trains only; no passengers carried. The train consist was mail and express cars on the head-end, and an old commuter coach on the rear. The train was usually powered by a K-5
2900-series Pacific passenger engine.

One day during the first summer I worked for the railroad, I decided to take a train ride. Train Number 10 arrived in my home town at 1:37 p.m., 7 minutes after my tour of duty finished. Instead of riding in the coach, I chose to ride in the mail car, and the ride was interesting. I got off at Meadville, Pennsylvania, a medium-sized town about 25 miles east of my home town, decided that I would wait there and ride Train Number 11 back.

I arrived in Meadville, had time for lunch and a movie, walked back to the passenger station to wait for Number 11, due to depart at 8:30 p.m. I was sitting on a bench on the platform, talking to the crew of Number 11, when we noticed a west-bound train approaching. The train consisted of ten coaches, no head-end cars, pulled by a 2900-series engine.

The train pulled in, and stopped to change crews. I casually looked up, right into the face of a young man, probably my age, or possibly younger.

It struck me then that what I was looking at was a train filled with German prosoners-of-war. Here I was, 16 years of age, sitting idly on a railroad platform in the United States, looking at a man of probably my age, who had been in a war, captured, and sent to prison in a foreign country.

What could he possibly be thinking when our eyes met?

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

21 Years On The Erie Railroad

On thinking back, I believe that I had my first indication that there was prejudice against blacks in America while I was working my first summer on the Erie Railroad.

In my small home town there were not many black families. My father and I regularly visited a barber shop that was owned by a black man. Bob, the owner, was a wonderful man. He and my father often fished together, and he had two of the most beautiful daughters you could ever imagine, but quite a bit older than I.

Anyway, during the summer months, I was able to work as many hours as I wanted to, due to, at that time, no damn-fool work rules pertaining to teen-agers. I took the early shift, since it seems that I am a morning person. Number Two, the eastbound "Erie Limited," arrived in our little town at 5:37 a.m. daily, when on time. As I mentioned before, this was also the time that an army camp was located about 5 or 6 miles out of town.

Number Two arrived one fine morning, on time, just as daylight was breaking. The passengers climbed off. Among the passengers was a soldier, a handsome black officer, along with his wife. He looked around a bit, spotted me. "Excuse me, son," he said. "Could you direct me to the colored section of this town?"

I was stumped. We had no colored section. I told him that I couldn't, and why, but offered to call the taxi for him. He said that would be all right, and I did. The taxi arrived, he asked to be taken to the hotel, which the cab driver did.

I later asked someone about this, since it bothered me some. The person I asked had been around the country a bit, filled me in on what might happen in other parts of the country.

Later on, when I had graduated to other jobs and locations on the railroad, I found out about prejudice, and what the soldier meant.