21 Years On The Erie Railroad

I do believe that railroaders are some of the finest story-tellers on earth. Railroading was an exciting occupation, sometimes dangerous, sometimes humorous, but always interesting.

An old-time Railway Express man once told be this one, and he swore at the time that it was true. Names have been eliminated to protect any remaining relatives.

This story happened around the time of World War I. There is a small town just a few miles west of Greenville, PA named Shenango. Shenango at that time was a very busy place; in fact, it was busier than its larger neighbor Greenville. The main reason for this was that Shenango was a railroad hub. The Erie Railroad, the Bessemer & Lake Erie Railroad, and the Pennsylvania Railroad all entered Shenango, and shared a large passenger station there.

The station agent at Shenango was, to put it mildly, not a very nice person. At the time of this story there were many immigrants moving through the area on the various passenger trains of the three railroads. All the trains stopped at Shenango to discharge or pick up passengers, and the station agent had a little business going on the side. He would brew up a large batch of tea, pour this tea into beverage bottles, jam corks deep into the necks of the bottles, and sell the tea as beer to the passengers passing through. He made sure that he didn't sell to any of the passengers that were going to spend some time at the station; just to the ones who might get off to stretch or pick up some tobacco, etc. By the time the unfortunates discovered that the beer had turned into tea, the trains were on their ways to Chicago or Jersey City or Pittsburgh.

The station agent was not very well-liked by anyone, due to his temper and self-importance. My friend, the story-teller, and a friend of his once got even with the agent. They had unloaded a calf in a large crate from one of the late evening trains just after the station had closed for the night. The crate was open on one end, with just some wire keeping the calf from escaping through that end. The two men parked the baggage truck containing the calf and the crate in front of the agent's office door, with the open end right next to the door, locked the wheels of the baggage truck, and went home after a hard day's labors. On arriving at work the next morning, the agent was greeted by the crate, the calf, and a large pile of manure.

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."