The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-09-20
THE DlSPATCHER'S STORY
THE L As T RD E r


and extra men. If dispatcher took sick
there was no handy way of filling in; it
was just double Up and do the best you
could.
One lad in the office those days every
body loved-Fred Norman. He was off the
Burlington. A kid of a fellow who looked
more like a choir boy than a train dis
paJcher. But he was all lightning-a laugh
ing, restless, artless boy, open as book
and quick as a current. There was better
reason STILL though, why they loved Fred
the boy had consumptiOn-thats why he
was out in the mountains and his mother
in Detroit used TO write Buck asking about
him, and she used to send us all things in
Fred's box. His flesh white and as
pink as mountain snow and he had brown
eyes; he was a good boy. and 1 called him
handsome. 1 reckon they all did. Fred
brought out a tennis set with him, the
first we ever saw in Medicine Bend, and
before he had been playing an hour he
had Neighbor, big as a grizzly. and Gala
han, with a pipe in one hand and a tennis
guide in the other. chasing all over the
yard after balls, and HALEY trying to
figure forty love, while Fred taught Bucks
the Lawford drive. / don't say what he
to me, only that he taught me all 1
ever knew or ever will know about hand
ling trains; and. though 1 was carrying
messages then. and he was signing orders,
we were really like kids together.
Fred for long time had the early trick.
He came on at in the morning and caught
most of the through freights that got away
from the River behind the passenger trains.
in,
the night trick. Between the stock trains
east-bound and the both-way passenger
trains. if west-bound freight got caught
In the mountains at night the engine might
as well be standing in the house saving
fuel-there wasn't time to get from one
siding to another. So Fred Norman took
the freights they came and he handled
them like ringmaster. When Fred's whip
cracked, by Joe! train had to dance right
along, grade or no grade. Fred gave them
the rights and they had the rest to door
business to do with the superintendent or
with Doubleday, Neighbours assistant in
the motive power.
There was only one tendency in Fred Nor
mans dispatching that anybody could crit
icise: he never seemed after handling trains
on the plains to appreciate what our noun
tain grades really meant. and when they
pushed him he sent his trains out
pretty close together. 1t never both
cred him to handle heavy traffic;
he would get the business through
the mountains just as fast as they
could put 1t at the division; but occasionally
there were some hair-curling experiences
|, among the freights on Norman's trick try
| ing to keep off each others coat-tails. One
night in July there was a great press NOV
| ing eight or nine trains of Montana grass
| ers over the main line on some kind of a
| time contract-we were giving stockmen
| the earth then Everybody was prodding
| the Mountain division, and part of the stuff
| came in late on Blackburn and part of 1t
| early on Fred. who was almost coughing
his head off about that time, getting up
at $3.50 every morning. Fred at o'clock
took the steers and sent them train after
train through the Rat river country like
bullets out Of Maxim gun. 1t was hot
work, and before he had sat in an hour
there was stumble. The engineer of big
ten-wheeler pulling twenty-five cars of
steers had been pushing hard and, at the
entrance of the canyon, set his air so quick
he sprung of the driver shoes and the
main rod hit it. The great steel bar
| doubled up like a man with cramp. 1t
| was showing daylight; they made a stop
and. quick as men could do it, tagged both
ways. But the last section was crowding
| into the canyon right behind; they were
| too close together, that was all there was
| to it. The hind section split into the stand
| ing train like butcher knife into a sand
| witch. 1t made a mean wreck-and, worse,
| it made lot of hard feeling at the Wickiup.
When the investigation came it was pref
| ty near up to Fred Norman right from the
| start, and he knew ii. But Blackburn, who
| shielded him when he could. just as all the
| dispatchers did, because he was a boy-and
| a sick one among men-tried to take part Of
| the blame himself. He could afford it,
| Blackburn; his shoulders were broad and he
hadn't as much as a f1y-speck on his book.
Bucks looked pretty grave when the evil
| dence was all in, and around the second
| floor they guessed that meant something
| for Norman. Fred himself couldn't sleep
over 1t, and to complicate things the engi-
neer of the stalled train, who hated Double
day, limited quietly that the trouble came
in the first place from Doubleday's new
| tangled idea of putting the driver shoes be-
hind instead of in front of the wheels Then
u,
and, boy-like-sore over his own share in
| the trouble and exasperated by something
Doubleday was reported to have said about
him over at the house-lighted into Double
| day about the engine failure.
Doubleday was right in his device, as time
has proved; but it unheard of then.
and, moreover. the assistant master me-
| chanic. sensitive to criticism at any time,
was a fearful man to run against. Sunday
morning he and Norman met in the train
| masters Office. They went at each other
like sparks, and when Doubleday, who had
| a hard mouth. began cursing Fred. the poor
little dispatcher, ranking with the trouble,
anyway half sick. went all to pieces and
| flew at the big fellow like sparrow hawk.
| He threw a wicked left into the master me-
| chanic before Doubleday could lift a guard.
1 q. Il