About the Author J. D. Santucci (a.k.a. "Tuch") began his railroading career in 1978 as a trainman on the Missouri Pacific. After a round of lay-offs in 1985, Tuch embarked on a railroad odyssey, working in many different situations for different roads. This column tries to explain some of the nuts and bolts of the job and also demonstrates what we have to deal with on a regular basis within and without the industry. Tuch currently works through freights out of Chicago for Canadian National/Illinois Central. ©1999, 2003-2007 JD Santucci. Logo ©2002 The Railroad Network. By J.D. Santucci

August 10, 2003
I know I’m a little late getting this one out. I used my regular day off to take the beautiful bride to the county fair. I decided it was time to have some fun first and put the column second this week. It was great to be able get out and enjoy the day at the fair.

Today's chapter is a bit lengthier than normal, so you may want to go pop up some popcorn or get some munchees before you start reading. And now, on with the show.

In late February 1985, I was furloughed from the MoPac. The Union Pacific (whom we had merged with in December 1982) was trying to downsize one of the most important terminals on the entire system, Chicago. Oddly enough Chicago was the terminal that they had sought to direct gain entry to for years. Rumors of the downsizing and then the actual efforts to carry out this plan were being observed by those of us that worked there. Clerical, Mechanical and Transportation employees were slowly being whittled away from the ranks. Some were offered transfers to other locations; others were given a separation allowance and dismissed. In my case I received a phone call from the Crew Caller telling me the news. I was told over the phone one morning that I had been furloughed. To me UP now meant Unemployed Professionals.

I had been preparing for such a day and had already begun sending resumes all over North America looking for gainful employment in the railroad industry. And of course this was at a time that the entire rail industry was going through a major downsizing. In the weeks after I was cut off, I had really stepped up the job search. I was even looking for employment outside of the rail industry. I had no intention of being unemployed for long.

In mid-March I got a hit from a resume sent out few couple of weeks earlier. The South Shore called. I spoke with a fellow named Jake Vasquez and he wanted to arrange an interview. Within minutes after getting this call, I received another call, this one from my friend Joe Broad. Joe and I worked at the MoPac together and had been cut off about the same time. He told of also getting a call for an interview at the South Shore and being asked if he knew me. For whatever reason, Joe gave them a glowing report about me and suggested I be contacted as well. I guess that is what friends do for each other.

Two days later I was at the South Shore General Office in Michigan City. The job interview process was carried through and then the wait began. I didn’t hear anything for several days, so I began to call and inquire. I think I called a dozen times over several days. Jake was not in so I kept leaving messages. I guess he found lots of pink “While you were out” messages with my name on them. The persistence paid off; I got the call and was offered a job. Once again, I was on the phone with Joe Broad and he too, was offered employment.

We rode out to Michigan City together discussing our futures with our new found employment. Joe was lifelong friends with a guy named Marty Cawley. Marty had been working at the South Shore for almost a year before we had been hired. After we did the paperwork and employment physical thing, we stopped over at Marty’s to visit and get more insight into the South Shore. Marty gave us the lowdown about the place and what we could expect. Needless to say, I was thrilled to be gainfully employed again.

Joe and I, along with several others hired about the same time were given an orientation and filled in on what would be expected from us. It was not the normal start in the rail industry, especially for somebody who had well over six years of experience on the job. But it was providing a paycheck and I guess that was the important issue.

When I was first hired at the South Shore, there was this training program of which all new hires had to partake. Everybody was hired as a coach cleaner. Irregardless of experience or background, we all started as coach cleaners. We cleaned all the passenger cars every evening upon their return to Shops Yard in Michigan City at the end of the commuter rush. While doing this in the evenings, we were required to go (on our own time) over to all the yards on the system to make “student trips” of sorts.

The training program was a sixty day affair. During this time period we were required to spend a minimum of six hours each at Randolph Street, Gary and Shops Yard to learn about them. We had to be able to map out the yards at each location including the location of each switch, catenaries and power cut off switches. We had to ride with the Terminal Carmen at each location and were even given hands on opportunities. We were allowed to operate the passenger cars as they were switched out. We would also learn a great deal about these cars for trouble shooting purposes as well.

The program required a maximum of sixty days, but some had done it in less. The best record was twenty-seven days; I decided that I would do it in far less time than that. Joe and I and another new hire we met named Tom, came up with a plan to beat the best time. We talked with several people we met at the Shore and took tips from them. We also schemed a bit figuring out how to beat the system. Scheming was something we seemed to do best.

On my second day there we took the trip downtown to Randolph to undertake the student trip process. Joe and Tom had actually started a few days before me and had a bit of a head start. We hooked up with a few of the Terminal Carmen there and tapped into their experience. They were a very helpful bunch and glad to offer any information we asked of them. We also discovered that nobody was actually keeping track of actual our time at any location. The times we indicated on the forms we turned in we what was counted. A Carman would have to sign off that we were there, but we were not required to spend all of our time with them. We also had to roam around and look at everything to make our maps. So needless to say, times shown on the sheet and time actually spent there were quite different. Joe, Tom and I had quickly surmised that being experienced railroaders did not require us to have to spend so much time learning much of what we already had a grasp on.

We would begin our student trips in the morning. We went to a location did our tours and then went to Shops Yard and cleaned coaches. We discussed what we learned with each other and the others we cleaned coaches with. It was quite the share of information. We also discussed which departments we were planning to make our moves to after the training program was completed. Choices included transportation, mechanical, clerical and electrical. We were all pretty excited about what the future had in store for all of us.

“The future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades.”

I was putting in a great deal of time both cleaning coaches and doing the student trips. Sleep almost seemed to not be an option. In addition to the student trips and work, we also had to study the rule book and write portions of it out. During breaks and lunch from cleaning coaches, we were doing just that and doing it in teams. The rules were being discussed while we cleaned as well. Talk about living and breathing the job.

Did I mention that I set the record for completing the training program? Did it in six working days; a record that will stand the test of time. They eventually eliminated this training program.

On my seventh day of employment, I was ready to take the first written and oral test. The written test was given to us at Randolph Street. The following day was the oral portion along with a walk through of a coach. Prior to taking the test, we were at Randolph Street preparing and studying while sitting in a coach. Joe was seriously concerned about not passing the test. His remark was something to the effect of “If I don’t pass this test, I might wind up driving a cab.” I looked at him and said “Ya you look sort of like one of those cabbies you see in the old movies.” With that, his nickname was born. He became Cabbie, a name he carries to this day.

We took the rules exam and all passed. We then made the trip out on Saturday to Shops Yard and did the oral test and coach walk through. It was then we also had to declare the craft we wanted to work. We were then sent to see Bob Maddox the Assistant Superintendent of Transportation. Bob gave us the information we needed to get started including the necessary tools of the trade. We were issued switch lamps, switch keys, employee timetables, operating rulebooks, Chessie System safety books, a ticket punch, and a ticket duplex for cutting cash fares. Each ticket punch is unique; it punches a different shape of hole peculiar of that particular punch. That particular punch was our signature so to speak. We were required to punch a hat check and it was placed into our employment file. If there were any situations or discrepancies involving us and a punched ticket, the hole punched in the ticket could be matched against the punch registered in our file.

The ticket duplex was used to cut cash fares on the train. It had a bar with three pointers on it used to set the price of the fare. When you pulled the receipt out of the duplex, it cut the price of the ticket onto the receipt, hence the term “cutting a cash fare.” We had to sign for the cash fares we received. Bob explained the procedures and responsibilities we held for handling the cash fares. We would be financially responsible for any lost fares or lost money collected unless we were robbed and had a police report to verify such a theft.

We were explained the South Shore’s extra board and call policy. Being that we all lived outside of the Michigan City area, we were all outside of their local calling zone. This meant they either had to call us collect or we had to give them a calling card number to use for them to call us. This meant getting called to work was going to cost me money. Also, they had a one and a half hour call instead of the two hour policy we had all been accustomed to. So let’s see now, I have to pay to get called to work, I have less time to report and I live further away. This is going to be interesting.

Bob also took us down to the basement of the office. They had some old uniforms there. We went through them in an attempt to find something that would fit and hold us until we received our own uniforms. I can wear virtually noting off the rack and really didn’t find one that was a god fit here. The jacket I found fit in the shoulders but the arms were far too short. Whoever ordered this one must’ve been short and built like a bowling ball. But it had to do.

Several weeks later we went to see a guy in Chicago and were all measured for our uniforms. After waiting for about two months, my new uniform came in. I went to try it on and it didn’t fit. The shoulders were too tight. It was alright if I didn’t need to do anything like move. The tailor insisted it was fine. The pants were also a poor fit, sort of seemed like they measured somebody else for my uniform instead of me. Again, this guy insisted they would be fine. Ya, if I wanted to quit moving and breathing. Things sort of got ugly as I told him I wasn’t going to accept this and he practically demanded I take it. We had to pay for our first uniform, something to the tune of $100 and I sure as hell wasn’t going to pay this kind of money for something that didn’t fit.

So I continued to wear the old less than adequate jacket, my own dress slacks and made due. One Conductor saw my plight and gave me one of his older jackets. Apparently it had “shrunk” over the years and no longer fit him. While it did have longer sleeves, it was a little tight in the shoulders. But it was far better than the old worn out thing I was wearing.

Several months after my first go round with the tailor and the non-fitting uniform, I get a call that my new uniform was finally in, again. So I went to try this one on. Apparently they over compensated for the coat. I wear a 44 and this had to be at least a 48. I was swimming in it. He suggested alterations to take it in but again I told him no, this was not what I had ordered or was fitted for. And the slacks were matched with the jacket. I could put another person in there with me. In all the time I was at the Shore, I never did get a new uniform.

Back to the meeting with Bob Maddox, he told me they were really short on Engineers and it was very likely they would have me qualifying soon and running an engine again in no time. Well, that didn’t happen. I don’t blame him for this not coming about though. He wanted me to be running an engine and trains, but it wound up not being his choice in the matter. Bob was actually a pretty fair guy and treated us pretty well. He was honest about things good and bad. I appreciate that in a supervisor.

Right after we went into transportation when we completed the training program, they recommended, make that strongly recommended, no, let’s call it started to push for us to move closer to Michigan City. The weather we had to drive though during the winter could justify the company’s attitude about living in or near Michigan City. I was not really crazy about the town though and did not relish the thought of living there. I really didn’t make too much effort to relocate. Actually, I put forth almost no serious effort. A few times I did look at some houses in the Valparaiso and Chesterton area as well as nearby New Buffalo, MI to get some ideas about prices, but I never got serious about relocating. Every so often a company official would inquire as to the efforts of my relocation. I would tell them nobody has expressed an interest in purchasing my house and I cannot relocate until the place is sold. Of course, I omitted the little detail that I did not even have my place on the market. I lived far enough away that they were not going to come and check it out.

I began my student trips starting the very next day. I worked a passenger job with Conductor Dale Kelly. Dale showed me a great deal on that first day. Of course I probably didn’t remember half of it. Being that it was a Sunday, virtually all of the tickets agents were closed. This meant a great deal of cash fares. I knew nothing about cutting cash fares and was getting a baptism under fire in learning about them. Dale was very patient about it all. All of the other Conductors I worked with while I was training were also very patient and they all taught me something about working passenger.

Then I took some student trips on freight and was turned loose on the extra board. I worked numerous assignments in both freight and passenger. One day I was called for a special train.

The special train was the business and media excursion. This would probably be one the better assignments I would work. No tickets to collect, no annoying or troublesome passengers to deal with. No customers complaining about late trains with nowhere to sit. The folks in this train were there by invitation and were friendly and polite. I rubbed elbows with all sorts of people within the industry. And being the South Shore was feeding and refreshing these folks, we were entitled to these goodies too, except for the fermented or distilled stuff. Although I quickly figured I could have fun with this. I don’t drink a great deal of soda, so I was drinking water with a twist of lime or lemon. It sure looked like a drink and every railroad official on the train had to stop and check it (and me) out.

The hardest part of this trip was handling the switches when we ran around the train at South Bend and Ice House. I spent the rest of the time schmoozing, roaming through the train and taking in the ambiance of these fine old cars and the train ride. When we arrived back at Shops Yard, my day was pretty much done and I was able to head on home. I did get one of the media kits they were passing out as a souvenir of the day.

Within a couple of months, I was asked if I was ready to be qualified flagman. On the South Shore, to work the caboose you had to be a qualified flagman. This required completion of a written and oral test. And normally you needed to be on the job longer, but being that I had previous experience they offered it to me sooner. One of the requirements was to write another portion of the rulebook; that portion that dealt with the oral test I would take. This was my written portion of the test. The oral exam was essentially the portion I wrote out. Oddly enough, there were no questions involving the actual procedures for flagging and protecting your train. Go figure.

Shortly before taking the flagging test, a new agreement between the United Transportation Union and the South Shore allowed for reduced crews on all freight runs. Instead of two Brakemen with the Conductor as part of the ground crew, one Brakeman was eliminated. As a result, they increased the number or freight assignments from three to five as well. This meant more jobs on freight and now, a shortage of qualified flagmen to ride the caboose. As a result, I wound up working mostly freight for several months. In fact, at one point I was able to hold a regular freight assignment as the flagman.

Eventually I got bumped out of freight and back to passenger. I was able to hold a regular job in passenger and I took it. Even though I was not crazy about passenger it beat the uncertainties of the extra board, the shorter call times and having to pay for the call to work. While I was never late, I did just barely make it a few times. And if you are late for passenger they don’t hold the train. It departs and you get in trouble. I was told that if you knew you were going to be late, go to a station where you can meet the train and catch it there. Also, use the Dispatcher phone and call to let them know. I believe I set a few land speed records a couple of times to not be late. It was good to own a muscle car in those days.

As it worked out, Cabbie and I eventually wound up on one of the same passenger combinations so we used to ride to work together. This saved a little cash for the both of us. During a couple of severe early morning snowstorms, it also got us to work. We had to drive through that world renowned Northwest Indiana snow belt. On several mornings Cabbie was driving and I was hanging out the passenger side with the door open looking down at the pavement trying to make sure we were still on it and looking for the lines on the road. Somehow, we didn’t get into a wreck so we didn’t get killed. And, we were never once late.

We’ll get into some passenger episodes in a bit, but first we’ll look at some fun and games in freight.

I was working freight one Sunday afternoon. We had just run around a 155 car coal train we had pulled from the B&O. The train was pulling into Bethlehem Steel and I was back at the tail end lining back the switches from the main line into the siding. The train had just cleared the switches and I was lining them back when I heard the train go into emergency. The Engineer reported to the Trainmaster working with us that they had derailed in the 430 Yard. I jumped into the truck with the Trainmaster and we headed up there to get a look. Sure enough, there were several loads of coal on their sides and into a track (and the cars in that track) along side of the one the train was on.

There was much blame being placed, the railroad called it a broken rail while Bethlehem said it was the South Shore’s fault. So, it was decided to hold an investigation to “determine the responsibility, if any,” of the crew involved. So I had to make the drive to Michigan City on the day we were requested to appear. I was asked the following questions;

“Were you working this assignment on the date of this incident?”

“Yes I was.”

“What can you tell us of this derailment?”

“I was 155 cars away from the head end lining back the switches when I heard the train go into emergency. The Engineer reported over the radio that we had derailed in the 430 Yard. Upon being transported to the scene by the Trainmaster, I learned we had indeed derailed just as the Engineer had stated.”

I was then excused and went home. When all was said and done, we were exonerated and Bethlehem had to pay for the clean up and repair costs of the derailment. I wasted the all this time and effort having to drive all the way to Michigan City for two questions. Hell, I could’ve phoned this in.

One evening while delivering the empties back to the B&O at Miller, I had dropped off and walked down the hill to the east end of the interchange yard. I was going to protect the shove as we had quite a few cars to deliver and we need to shove both tracks right to the corner. There was a junkyard there at the very east end of the interchange yard. A big dog kept to guard the place would always start carrying on whenever you came anywhere near. The fence had panels over it so you could not see the dog, but you could sure hear him. He would always make quite the racket whenever we were there. This dog was yelling and his running up against the fence, as if he was trying to climb over it and ram through it.

“Badder than old King Kong, and meaner than a junkyard dog.”

This particular evening the dog was carrying on for awhile, but then he got sort of quiet. I soon learned why. As the cut we were delivering was being shoved towards me, I suddenly heard deep breathing and the sound of somebody rapidly approaching me from behind. When I turned around, I spotted the junkyard dog charging towards me. And it did not appear that he was coming to play. I yanked a fusee out of my pocket and struck it. Throughout most of my career, they have never lit on the first strike. Tonight, the Good Lord was looking out for me and the fusee lit right away.

I shoved the burning fusee right into the dog’s face as he reached me. I caught him good as he let out quite the scream. He turned and immediately ran away. Close examination to the fence showed that he had burrowed under a portion of it and this was how he got out. I reported this find to the Trainmaster and he made arrangements to contact this junkyard to report the episode and for them to make certain this wouldn’t happen again. As far as I know, I was the only one that had such an encounter here.

Another evening I was working a job that had pulled the empties from Bethlehem for the B&O. We had pulled by the connection at Miller west of Lake Street and I cut our engines away from the train. The B&O job came out, coupled on and cut in the air. After a considerable time pumping the air, the brakes on my end of the cut still had not released. The B&O Engineer tried to pull them but with no luck. I walked up about twenty cars and the brakes were still set. I was thinking there was an overcharge of the brake pipe. After a considerable amount of time with nothing done to resolve this problem, it was decided to couple back on and make a cut at a road crossing we had been blocking for a considerable time. We took care of that and I stood and waited at the crossing. It began to rain and there I stood, waiting in the rain; and waiting, and waiting some more.

It was quickly becoming a very bad time in my life. There I was, standing in the rain at a road crossing in Gary on a Friday night. I was thinking about how just a few months ago I was running hot shot intermodal trains on the MoPac and now I am standing in the rain on a Friday night in Gary playing Brakeman. Could it get much worse? Why certainly. Always remember, “There is no situation so bad that it cannot get worse.” You can credit that quote to me.

The dolly I was dating during this time period was also not very happy. I was quickly becoming less than satisfied with my current employment situation. It had become quite clear that I was not going to be back running again anytime soon. While the job was paying the bills, that was about all it was doing. I was making significantly less money and saving very little. I was getting pressured by the company to move closer to Michigan City and I really didn’t want to relocate. The dolly had no intention of moving out there with me should this ever move have ever come about. My issues were taking their toll on both the relationship and me.

My high school reunion was also coming up. I wasn’t happy in my employment situation. My romantic relationship was rapidly going south. My financial situation was barely adequate. I wound up passing on the reunion. I wasn’t satisfied with my present state of affairs and had little desire to meet up with people I hadn’t seen in a long time only to see them doing better. I needed a change.

I decided I really needed to find another job; one that paid better and one that returned me to the seat as an Engineer as soon as possible. So out came the resume again, which was updated and sent out. I obtained a copy of “The Pocket Guide of Railway Officials.” This book had names, phone numbers and addresses of numerous officers of most railroads. The title of the book is quite the misnomer as the only person whose pocket it could possibly fit into would be that of Paul Bunyun. I referred to it as my giant book of leads. I made probably hundreds of phone calls and sent out dozens of resumes, including one to the Alaska Railroad. The results were less than desired as I received numerous “rejection letters” as I called them. I joked that I understand how aspiring writers feel when they get such rejection notices from publishers they are trying to convince to publish their manuscripts. I was caught up in a period of downsizing in the rail industry. Finding another job was not going to be easy.

But I kept plugging away looking for a better job. My friends told me this search was pointless and to just accept the fact I would wind up staying at the South Shore until I retired. It got discouraging at times, but I didn’t give up the search. I knew at some point it would pay off.

But in the meantime, I was still gainfully employed. The South Shore was keeping me in my house which beat the heck out of perhaps living in a Maytag box behind the 7-11. And I wasn’t living on macaroni and cheese.

Engineers on the South Shore had a method of stopping coal trains called “precision big hole.” This was a calculated manner of using an emergency application to stop at coal train short of the switches at Bailly or Power. These guys would roll the train along like normal, but when it came time to stop, they would use an emergency application instead of the normal method of service braking to stop their trains at the above named switches. The key was to know exactly where to dump the air so as not to get by the switch. If the train stopped close but didn’t get passed the switch, it was considered a good stop. I have worked no place else where the Engineers made such stops and then took pride in such a method of stopping a train.

And if you overshot the switch (which did happen on occasion), once the air was recovered, the train would have to be shoved back far enough to clear the switch so that it could be lined and you would head into the plant.

One Engineer there once told me “An Engineer on the South Shore can work anywhere.” I started laughing and told him that no railroad anywhere would put up with such train handling methods as precision big hole. In fact, this method was not allowed anywhere else and they would likely be fired if they tried it. I also told him I knew of several Conductors and Brakemen who would likely have thrown them out the window if they used this method of stopping with them.

And yes, I did change a couple of knuckles thanks to this bizarre method of train handling.

While I don’t fault them as they were never taught most of what I knew, I was amazed at how little South Shore Engineers knew about the locomotives. In one instance, an engine died at Burnham while we were preparing to double up a coal train. The Engineer called the Dispatcher to report the problem. The Dispatcher said there would be no time for a Carman to drive out to get the engine restarted so we would go with two units and only two thirds of the train. I thought this was bizarre so I asked the Engineer why he didn’t just go back and restart the locomotive. Came to learn, he did not know how.

So I took him back there and explained the procedure to him and we quickly and easily restarted it. He seemed genuinely amazed that I knew how to do this. He even asked me if I used to be in locomotive repair. I explained to him that on all other railroads, student Engineers are taught how to start locomotives before they ever get the opportunity to run them. Hell, most Brakeman can start them as well.

I discovered there was a great deal about these locomotives some of the South Shore Engineers did not know about or understand. All they were taught was how to make them (and trains) move and stop. They didn’t even know the proper way to read an amp gauge. All newer EMD power uses a gauge with a graph and single digit numbers. On the face of the gauge is the notation, “X100.” This means you take the number and multiply that times one hundred to equate the amperage rating. Most of those guys thought if the amp gauge needle was pointing to the 6, it meant the locomotive was loading six amps. I explained this to a couple of guys and again, they were amazed.

I showed a couple of them how to reset the low oil button on the governor and the low water button. They knew virtually nothing about these simple little cures. To me, this was routine knowledge we were required and expected to know. To these guys, it was like I was performing magic. They thought only people from the mechanical department knew this stuff.

I watched the way some of these Engineers ran freight trains here and decided these were not the guys I wanted to train me out on this property. More resumes went out, including to railroads that already had said sorry, not hiring. Maybe that persistence thing will pay off again. If this didn’t work maybe it was getting to be time to start offering sacrificial lambs or something to the railroad gods to get me the hell out of there.

I wasn’t crazy about working passenger and preferred the freight side of operations. Not all Engineers did the precision big hole thing, there were some that, all things considered, were pretty good. Freight service also paid more than passenger. The down side was I was working on the ground instead of running an engine and I wasn’t really happy about that. Again, another drawback was less money overall; I was making about a $40 per day less in pay.

For those who believe that you can get by on less money, especially significantly less money, you are wrong. I still had the very same amount of bills. The house and car payments were not reduced to correspond with my making less money. NIPSCO didn’t feel sorry for me and charge me less money for my gas and lights. And the cost of eating certainly didn’t get any cheaper.

I got bumped out of freight as I had mentioned earlier and was able to hold a passenger combination as a Collector. Collector assignments could work split shifts whereas Conductors and Engineers could not. A split shift had you working a train into Chicago in the morning, deadheading back on the 8:37am train back to Shops Yard to tie up. You would then catch the 2:25pm train Back into Chicago and work an evening rush train back to Shops and tie up. It was too far of a distance (about 40 miles) for me to drive back and forth between Griffith and Michigan City twice a day, so some days I stayed downtown. Cabbie had an old car (which we dubbed “the Batmobile”) that he started to keep at Hegewisch. So on the deadhead back to Michigan City we would frequently get off at Hegewisch instead of going all the way through. We would head over to Cabbie’s or Marty’s house and do something there or maybe catch a nap. We would often do all sorts of stuff fun as we had mobility. On occasion, Cabbie would let me take the car and I would head back over to my house for awhile and get some things taken care of around there.

The split shifts were tough as they made for very long days for me. So I frequently used the layover time in the split to get some sleep. I wasn’t getting enough sleep at night. The splits had me getting home late and leaving early. I was getting up before four and getting home well after seven and still trying to have some sort of life, so I caught up on sleep during the day. I would cop some Z’s on the sofa at Cabbie or Marty’s house.

Not all the collector jobs were splits and from time to time while I was on the extra board, I would catch one that worked early and finished by late morning, or started in the mid afternoon and ended in the evening. I usually could not hold one of these assignments regularly though. Normally the splits were pretty much all I could hold as a regular assignment.

As I had mentioned previously, the South Shore was becoming highly successful at increasing passenger levels. Trains were jam packed and frequently late. The passengers didn’t care that we only had so much equipment to go around and no funds available to obtain more. By the time we reached Hegewisch, there were usually no seats left at all and everybody that boarded here had to stand. They were often stuffed into the vestibules and standing three deep in the aisles. I know these folks were just thrilled to be paying for the privilege to be standing for thirty minutes. Well actually, a little longer as the trains were frequently tardy. We frequently heard them speak of the pleasure they got from standing, stuffed in there like sardines.

In late 1985 the new schedule came out. This schedule added a Hegewisch turn train to alleviate some of the overcrowding. This new train would give some of the suffering Hegewisch people a chance to actually sit in a seat for which they paid. Service was also expanded in other aspects as well, including additional South Bend service. Time was also added to the schedule of every train as well. This would allow for more dwell time at each station to accommodate the increased passenger loadings. Trains suddenly started operating on time quite frequently instead of every so often. Of course, this all came at a cost. Prior to the improved service, there was a fair increase.

The fare increase was really popular, about as well received as that proverbial fart in church. Never mind it was the first increase in years, people didn’t care. They felt they should pay the same rate forever. We would get bitched at about the increase. Some people suggested we take a cut in pay to keep the rates the same. A few of them even complained thinking we were overpaid. They erroneously believed we were making $150,000 a year. I explained to them we made nowhere near this much. I also explained that there had not been a wage increase in well over a year. I also tried to explain that the cost of their tickets did not come close to covering all of the expenses of running the railroad. Their ticket prices didn’t come close to the break even point for the cost of providing the service.

They didn’t care though.

Some of those making the complaints about our wages wound up getting a grilling back from me. I asked every one of them if they had received an increase in their wages this past year, and then if they had one for each of the three years prior to that. Almost every one of them said they had. I explained that if they received adjustments to their wages which increased their pay, didn’t they think that they would eventually have to pay more for the goods and services they purchased? Most of them didn’t want to hear that.

So then came the complaints about service. Yes, we were late more often than not. Some folks felt that we should not be allowed to increase fares unless service got better. This was almost hopeless as there was no explaining to some that the money was needed to increase the service to make it more dependable and to allow for a chance at a seat on a regular basis. Sort of like the dog chasing its tail.

A few were totally obstinate and demanded wage concessions on our part and were threatening to write letters to encourage it. I finally asked them if they felt they would be better off driving. I had them calculate the high cost of parking, the gasoline, the wear and tear on their vehicles, tolls charged if they took the Indiana Toll Road and Chicago Skyway and of course, the stranglehold of traffic that makes up the morning and evening rush of Chicago and Northwest Indiana. And there is no dollar figure you can use to calculate the savings of time of the train over driving. Even with the fare increase, it was still cheaper to ride the train.

To those that were still adamantly opposed, I finally got fed up with them and suggested they just go ahead and drive instead of taking the train. Not exactly good PR but I was really getting tired of hearing all the bitching and moaning. A couple actually did take up my suggestion. The following month they returned to the train.

Conductors and Collectors on the South Shore made a commission on the cash fares they cut. We received 8% of each fare we sold. We would receive a check twice a year, in April and November if I recall correctly, that paid our commissions. Some patrons thought this was unfair, again with that overpaid thing. South Shore employees made considerably less than what Metra paid their people. Metra employees did not receive the commission and they still made more. This commission was actually an incentive to make certain you sold as many tickets as possible. You didn’t want to let riders sneak on and ride for free.

I became a hawk at collecting fares. I talked at length with one Collector, Dickie Knoll about collecting fares. Dickie was a well-seasoned veteran of the South Shore and knew pretty much every trick in the book in how to catch cheats. He taught me all of them. In time, I discovered a few others as well.

Some regular monthly fare holders used to cheat by passing their monthly ride passes between them. I learned what to look for to catch this practice. Whenever I caught somebody engaged in this scam, one of them involved got charged a cash fare. In several cases, I confiscated the ticket being passed and turned it in with an incident report to the Manager of Passenger Services. I got called all sorts of names by the cheaters for catching them and taking their ticket. Hey, this is theft of service. The railroad could prosecute them for this if they so desired.

Two people would chip in and purchase one monthly ticket to pass between them. The monthly passes at that time were referred to as “flash cards.” There was nothing to punch on them, the rider just presented them or “flashed it” to you. If I suspected some sort of fraud, I would ask to see the ticket up close and examine it. In more than one instance, the two involved in the scam would cut the ticker in half and use it as a bookmark. When I saw half a ticket sticking out of their book, I would request them to pull it all the way out. If they refused, I would casually reach down and pull it out myself. If it was only half a ticket, I would confiscate it and charge them a cash fare.

In other cases if I thought somebody was passing it to another, I would ask for the ticket and punch it with my ticket punch. I kept very close track of whose tickets I punched and whose I didn’t. If I got a ticket from somebody that was punched and I knew I didn’t punch it, I knew I was dealing with some fraud. I worked out ways to catch the folks and usually always did.

One morning I caught a husband and wife team cheating us. I was getting suspicious when one of them always could not seem to locate their ticket every morning or every evening and asked for me to return in a minute. I watched them carefully one morning and saw one passing the pass to the other. I grabbed it, charged one of them a cash fare and turned it in with a report.

Some folks used to purchase monthly tickets to a zone or two shorter than they traveled. For example, travel between Hegewisch and Downtown Chicago was zones one and three. The Hammond-East Chicago zone was four. Gary-Clark Road-Ambridge was zone five and so on. The lower the zone number, the cheaper the ticket. So some folks would purchase a 1-3 zone monthly, but actually ride between East Chicago and Downtown. They rode further but paid no more than a Hegewisch rider.

To cover up their theft, they would often have the bottom portion of the ticket obstructed by something in the little holder many of them purchased to store their tickets. Again, Dickie Knoll pointed this one out to me. Another trick was hiding the bottom end of it in a book or magazine they were reading. And like with those sharing the tickets. I would either pull it out or ask the passenger to pull it out. If they were caught, I made them pay the difference. Again, they would call me all sorts of bad names.

In one instance I caught a woman riding from zone six to zone one with a Hegewisch monthly. She claimed she was only doing it this day and usually got on at Hegewisch. I guess she didn’t figure out that when you see the same faces day in and day out, you remember them and where they normally get on and off the train. When she was busted she used words that would make a sailor blush. I charged her a cash fare for the difference just the same. The tirade continued even more and, in front of a bunch of people I asked her, “And you kiss your husband and children with that mouth?” Shut her right up.

To beat the passing and sharing of monthly fares, NICTD came up with a fifty-seven ride monthly pass. We had to take this ticket and punch off one of the rides on it. People figured they could pass these as well. The average person works twenty-two days a month. This takes forty-four rides off a monthly ticket. That leaves thirteen unused rides. Some of them quickly did the math and figured they could share one of these and the other person could obtain a twenty-five ride pass (sold at a discount over one way fares) and use that to make up the shortfall.

I caught onto this pretty quick and got creative. To those I suspected of cheating the system, I would take their ticket and fold it all up. I would then punch one of the rides towards the top of the ticket. When they would ask what I was doing, I would usually respond something like, “Oh just being silly and having some fun.” Like with the flash cards, I kept track of which tickets I did this creative punching. In short order, I caught several people doing sharing these tickets.

Some folks would board the train and then immediately go hide in the restroom. If they were in there for more than what I considered a reasonable time, I would knock on the door and ask them to step out. If they refused I announced I was coming in and would unlock the door and open it up. I caught quite a few cheats here. I think they were shocked when I walked into the restroom and then made them pay. No, I never walked in on anybody taking care of personal business.

I was actually called all sorts of names by some passengers for being such “an asshole” (one passenger’s exact words). I explained that dodging a fare was theft. By their not paying, they were taking advantage of all the patrons that did dutifully pay their monthly fares. In retail stores this would be shoplifting. And those that rode for free were one of the reasons fares had to be increased; we were hauling some people gratis. Others actually applauded my efforts as they felt they had to pay and appreciated my efforts to make others pay as well. There were even some passengers that were more than happy to tip me off to cheats when they realized I was trying to make certain everybody paid their fare share.

One evening I had a very well-dressed gentleman that refused to pay. He complained that the train was late and that we failed to make good of our advertised times as listed in the timetable. I attempted to explain to him that the times indicated are not guaranteed. I even showed him that very disclaimer in the fine print at the bottom of the page. I went on to explain to him that we only guarantee to get you from here to there; we don’t guarantee to do it on time. The times listed in the timetable are targets that we strive to achieve. This was an exercise in futility though. He didn’t care and refused to pay. Did I mention that he also seemed a bit intoxicated?

With that I went to the radio, contacted the Dispatcher and requested the police for assistance. Some Conductors didn’t want to be bothered with such problems and told me to deal with them myself. So I did and would contact the Dispatcher if I had problems that required outside assistance. This evening the railroad police met us at East Chicago and I led them to the customer. He was even more difficult with the law than he was with me including using some very foul language. He was told that if he refused to pay they would remove him from the train and take him to jail. Again he refused so they placed him under arrest. He refused to stand up, so they pulled him from the seat. He refused to walk, so they dragged him down the aisle and then the stairs of the car. He was yelling and fighting them the entire time. He was hauled off to the crowbar motel to contemplate the events he had just perpetrated. I filled out a report when I got in and never heard another word about it. I never did learn if they sent him up the river or not over this affair.

I suppose when he got the joint and they found out it was for refusing to pay for his train ride, all the other convicts would want nothing to do with him. Sort of like Arlo Guthrie telling the story being arrested for being litter bug in his song “Alice’s Restaurant.”

The longer I worked at the South Shore the more savvy I became about dealing with customer complaints. If the customer got too obstinate, I dealt with them in the appropriate manner. I would never use foul or obscene language with them even if they used it towards me, but I was firm and direct. In more than one instance I offered them a ride in police car if they continued. You’d be amazed at how quickly this opportunity can change a troublemaker’s attitude.

I would frequently give them the name and phone number of the Manager of Passenger Operations if they had big complaints. I had no part of the decision or policy making process, so I figured why should I have to deal with the complaints about them? Let those in charge deal with it. Call it my version of delegating duties. Or maybe it was my way to pass the buck.

We would get the occasion over-indulger who became obstinate as well. On one occasion I was working an extra train. Taste of Chicago or some other huge event was going on in Chicago, so extra trains were operated to accommodate the patrons to and from these events. These trains were usually very crowded and oftentimes at the end of the evening, some of the passengers were rather intoxicated. On this night in particular, one of the other Collectors was having problems with several guys. They were belligerent and causing all sorts of trouble, including smoking on the train, which was not permitted.

After several warnings, including threats of being removed from the train, these guys continued their antics. The Collector requested the help of the Conductor and me. The Engineer was notified to stop at the next station so we could put these three off. It was not a scheduled South Shore stop, but this evening it became one. We removed them from the train at 75th Street in Chicago and left them there. This was not a particularly good place for them to be let off the train, especially at night.

One Conductor told me a story of some drunk giving him all sorts of trouble one evening. The guy wanted to fight him and even took several swings at him. He put the guy off at one station and the guy was still trying to fight. The Conductor said this was his chance to even the score. Even as the guy was being removed he was trying to fight the Conductor. The Conductor told me of giving the guy several good punches to the face and then tossing him to the platform before the train pulled out.

While I never actually got into a fist fight with a passenger, I did have several altercations. None of them led to anything other than my informing them of their impending arrest should they try to carry out their threats. We were not supposed to strike a passenger, but in the case of self defense, I don’t believe I would have been able to restrain myself. You hit me, I’m very likely gonna hit you back. And if I should have my ticket punch in my hand at the time, too bad for you. One of the old heads taught me to always have that punch in my hand if I were to encounter trouble with a passenger. One character did threaten to punch me and I told him he would be arrested if he did. He didn’t seem to care about incarceration so I told him he would get hit back and very likely harder than he hit me. And then he would be arrested.

Some passengers would try to “big bill” you early in the morning trick. Knowing that you didn’t have a large amount of cash, they would give you a $50 or $100 bill for a cash fare first thing in the morning. Of course you didn’t have enough cash on hand to change it. At first, I would tell them I would come back to them. Oftentimes they would then vanish and wind up getting a free ride. This was the reason they pulled this stunt. I quickly learned a great trick. Take their big bill, give them a hat check with your punch and an IOU in the amount of change you owed them and tell them you would be back later with their change. It was amazing how quickly they would discover a smaller bill.

One afternoon I was working the 2:25pm train into Chicago from Michigan City. This train carried the Collectors deadheading into the city for the evening rush and they normally rode in the very rear car. Some guy boards at Ogden Dunes and needs to purchase a cash fare. He gives me a $100 bill for a $4.35 fare. When I asked if he had a smaller bill he told me he “needed the change.” I’m guessing he figured it said “Currency Exchange” on my hat instead of “Collector.” I took the C note and told him I would be back in just a couple of minutes with his change.

You want change, I’ll give you change. Change is good,

Quickly, I headed back to the rear car where the deadheads were riding. I immediately checked with everybody back there and got as many singles and pennies that I could from them. When I returned to the passenger I proceeded to count out his $95.65 in change; 95 singles and 65 pennies. The look on his face was priceless. He started to protest and I reminded him that he was the one who told me that he “needed the change.” I’ll bet he never tried to pull that stunt on anybody again.

At the end of every day, we were required to turn in an envelope that contained our daily activities, what trains we worked and how many cash fares we cut. If there were any voided tickets, those had to be included as well as all the one way, twenty-five ride and ten ride tickets we collected as well.

There was a woman whose job it was to reconcile all these envelopes. On occasion you might have made an error in addition or subtraction. As a result, there would be either an overage or a shortage; with the latter seemingly more common than the former. For either you would get a slip with the amount of the overage or shortage. You would submit this slip with your cash remittance. If you had a shortage, you would have to make up the difference. If there was an overage, you used this as a credit towards your remittance.

It seemed like all of a sudden I was getting a lot of shortage slips. And some of them were for a significant amount of money. I was pretty meticulous about my addition and subtraction, so it seemed rather odd. So one day I went to a Trainmaster and had him pull these envelopes to check them. A thorough examination showed that I was not short. In fact, in a couple of cases I was actually over and they owed me. They pulled a bunch of other envelopes and found discrepancies in them as well. It seems that the women working them up was making all kinds of mistakes and covering them up by charging us for her shortfalls. We were literally paying for her mistakes and ineptness. As a result of their investigation of her activities, this woman was disqualified from the job.

We had a great deal of female passengers riding the trains. I was once told the figure was something like 70% of our ridership was woman. Many of the South Shore transportation employees were married (sometimes more than once) to women they met on the train. While I was very involved with this one dolly when I first started at the South Shore, the relationship was deteriorating. When this romance finally went the way of the five cent cigar, I was then free to make the rounds and did.

I dated several of the women that I met on the train. In a few cases, I was seeing a couple of them at once. Let’s see now, working lots of hours, getting little sleep during the week and trying to juggle several women at once. It’s amazing I didn’t die at a young age. It’s even more amazing I never got caught by any of them.

The South Shore is where I met the beautiful bride. It happened one rainy morning while I was working a train into Chicago. It was not exactly a magic moment, but it led to more conversation and eventually a date, and then more dates and well, the rest is history. I guess it was the hopelessly out of date and not quite tailored to fit uniform along with my irresistible charm.

There were downsides to of all the women on the train. I know that’s hard to believe but it is true. Some the guys wound up in divorce court as a result of their being overly polite and cordial to some of the women passengers. In my case though, part of my past caught up with me. Some dolly that I had one time dated showed up on the train. This relationship ended with a rather rough landing. Well, maybe more like a crash landing of which there was only one survivor. I believe she said something to the effect of “I hope you die a slow, horrible, painful death!” when we parted ways. I have such a way with women. It’s a gift.

Anyway, this little dolly shows up one morning on my train. I saw here quite a few times after that. I was always polite and wished her a good morning. At first she ignored me and looked away. After awhile she warmed back up to me. Instead of her total disregard for me, I started to get sneers and dirty looks back. Once she muttered some comment that I cannot repeat here in our family forum. I think she still cared. But I could be wrong

Some of the women riders used quite the antics in their attempts to talk to us away from the railroad. There were a few women I wasn’t interested in, but they were interested in me. They would try to obtain your home phone number in order to call you. They might ask fellow employees for it. One friend told me of the Dispatcher calling his house one evening having a woman on the other line telling him she needed to talk to this guy ASAP. YIKES! In my case, one woman was rather persistent and also called the railroad. She gave the Dispatcher some sob story about it being an emergency or something terrible and how she absolutely, positively needed to talk to me as soon as possible. This yahoo just gives out my number and she then called me.

I was shocked to hear from her. Although very polite, I rebuffed her advances. I also asked how she got my home number as I was unpublished and unlisted. She told of calling the Dispatcher and giving him some story in order to get my number. She called me several times after that even though I expressed no interest in seeing her. She would leave strange and bizarre messages on my answering machine.

Right after this woman called the first time, I called the Dispatcher. He freely admitted giving out my number and I gave him an earful. The following day I discussed this situation with the Trainmaster who addressed this issue in a more formal manner. This Dispatcher got a major ass-chewing. From that point on, this guy and I were constantly at odds. It actually became a battle.

From time to time this guy would work as “Acting Assistant Trainmaster.” This normally only occurred when a regular Trainmaster was on vacation. He would try to catch me doing something wrong so that I would be written up and get a letter of discipline or something in my file, or perhaps maybe an investigation. I never got in any kind of trouble despite his efforts. However I managed to get him into hot water and screamed at again, this time by the Superintendent.

I caught a job as a Flagman one day in Gary. There was a construction crew working overhead on the Indiana Toll Road. They had a machine extending over and above the railroad. While they weren’t fouling the right of way, there was the possibility the machine could come loose and perhaps drop down into the path of an approaching train. The Foreman of this project explained this all to me and suggested that I have the trains pass through the area at reduced speed, just in case. He also said this machine had broken loose in the past. Hmm, don’t have to hit me in the head with a pipe to prove it will hurt.

So I was contacting all the approaching trains and advising them to operate at restricted speed through the work area. After a couple of trains passed through the limits, my radio decided to act up. It would not transmit very far, maybe 1500 feet or so tops so I needed to come up with a way to make the trains aware of my presence. For whatever reason, there was no notification given to any of the trains of my flagging limits. So, I followed the rules, I set torpedoes out to bring the trains down to restricted speed. When they got within the short range of my radio, I could give them the instructions.

This Dispatcher, playing the role of Assistant Trainmaster was riding one of the trains that I had slowed using the torpedoes. He questioned me over the radio as to why I was doing this and how I shouldn’t be slowing down the trains. I told him I was merely following the rules.

Later in the day when I was heading back on a train to Shops Yard to tie up, this guy (we’ll refer to him as the yahoo) happens to be aboard that train. I was up on the head end with the Engineer talking to him about my radio conversation earlier in the day with this yahoo. As it would happen he comes up to the head end and starts reading me the riot act about slowing down the trains thus, delaying them. He wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise but just continued his tirade. There were two issues here of which I took exception, his tearing into me and then, doing it front of somebody else instead of dealing with the issue one on one.

Unbeknownst to me, when we got in the Engineer on the train went in and spoke to the Superintendent about what this yahoo had done and said. I discovered this fact when I went over to discuss the day’s events at length with the Trainmaster. I had been harassed by this guy for doing exactly what the rules prescribed. When I walked into the office, I was approached by one of the officers who asked me about what this yahoo had told me. He wanted me to confirm the story. This was when I learned the Engineer had given him up. I was told this situation would be addressed. Within moments of our conversation, I heard the Superintendent screaming and yelling at the yahoo. I heard much of what was said and it was not pretty.

The next day this yahoo comes up to me like a little kid and says, “Thanks to you I got yelled at yesterday.” I laughed at him and told him that his own ignorance got him yelled at and not me. He went storming off like a four year old. I should mention this guy successfully managed to get himself into all kinds of trouble both before I arrived and then again after I departed from the South Shore. Eventually he was dismissed, not to return.

The South Shore employed the use of spotters on the passenger trains. Periodically people were brought in to observe the Conductors and Collectors performing their duties. Needless to say, they were incognito. We were not supposed to know who they were. We would be observed for appearance, courtesy, ability to handle situations and our financial dealings. They had a checklist of items with which to rate us. In some cases, they might purchase a cash fare. They may have boarded at a station with an open ticket office. If a ticket was purchased on the train when the passenger boarded at such a station, we were required to charge an additional fifty cents. They would observe to make certain we did just that.

As for the financial responsibility, they were also observing to make certain we were not stealing from the company. Yes, it did happen. It was known as “stuffing” fares. A spotter would make a notation of the cash fare number on their report. Each fare has a number stamped on it. The spotter will often leave their cash fare receipt on the seat when they exit the train.

To submit a voided cash fare, both portions of the ticket, the audit stub normally turned in by the employee and the receipt portion normally given to the customer must be presented with the word void written on them. On occasion, an employee has been known to pick up the customer’s portion left on a seat, match it up with their half and then void it and submit it as a voided cash fare. This fare now does not exist even though it was cut, the passenger paid for it and they received their transportation. The employee then keeps the cash for themselves as the fare appears to not have existed in the first place. The passenger rides and pays, employee keeps the cash and the company loses.

The day the spotter observes an employee, that employee’s envelope is checked for voided tickets. Should a voided ticket be part of that day’s collections, this fare is checked against the number of the cash fare issued to the spotter. Should this ticket show up as a voided fare, further action may likely be taken against the employee.

Spotters might be assigned to watch a specific employee if they are suspected of engaging in activities contrary to the policy, especially if the suspicion is theft. From time to time an employee is suspected of stealing and the company will have spotters watch the individual. And yes, these employees do manage to get themselves caught and disciplined. The discipline for theft is generally dismissal.

“Go directly to jail; do not pass go, do not collect $200.”

Some Conductors and collectors were using the company funds for their own purposes. They did not remit in a timely manner. I heard of some that were hundreds in debt to the company as they spent the money and then didn’t have the cash to remit. So they were constantly in arrears. Many of these guys liked to gamble and were pretty successful in losing the company’s money. This was why there were some that stuffed cash fares, to try to make up some of the money they lost. I did not fall into that trap, easy it was. I figured I was not going to get into debt to the company and have to concoct a way to come up with the cash, especially a way that could get me dismissed.

While there are plenty more stories and episodes from my South Shore days, I will save them for another time. And with that we draw this lesson to a close. Be sure to study carefully as there will be a test. And yes, neatness and spelling will count.

And so it goes

Tuch