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(erielack) wires down at summit in 71; picking interlocking machines



Yesterday's post noting the 35th anniversary of the wires down at  summit 
got some very old synapses sputtering.

I was the first trick towerman at Summit that morning (my regular job). 
Being in the midst of chaos with hundreds of commuters on the platform and 
multiple conductors doing what conductors do under these circumstances 
(think colorful language and a rather focused My Train point of view), one 
does not have either the time nor the information to develop an overall 
sense of things.  In the dispatcher's chair you had much more to deal with 
and far greater overall responsibility, but you had Joe Conboy or an 
Assistant Chief there to keep the suits off your neck.  On the M&E job you 
had no machine or direct vision at all, relying entirely on verbal reports 
from Towermen and others on the phone lines..  You mapped out strategies and 
communicated the immediate tactics (train moves and train orders) to the 
troops in the field.

I don't recall anything specific about that day than I can be sure of, 
beyond the memory of running up and down the steps with orders, yelling out 
the window to men on the ground, and the general excitement.  Truthfully, I 
loved it. What stress?  It was fun to be young and have your own full-size 
railroad.

One thing that was always characteristic of the EL, was everybody's focus on 
getting the trains over the road.  Great pride was taken in on-time 
performance, and the EL was constantly the best performer in the 
metropolitan area, by far.  Fact is, everybody would work with you in order 
to get the trains over the road.

Having said that, the exceptions to the rule can be quite memorable.

On one occasion a westbound scoot broke a pan and came to a halt on the East 
End of the plant at summit. Rich or someone else may remember this. It 
happened on second trick, the westbound parade being at stake.  An official, 
I don't remember who, but I seem to recall it being an Assistant trainmaster 
(a truly transient position that got no respect from the men) got off the 
train, looked around, and ordered the engineer to pull the train forward to 
clear the East End crossovers. The engineer said he would have to have an 
order from the conductor to move the train, and the conductor initially said 
no.  A back-and-forth went on with increasing insistence by the suit.  The 
conductor then had him explicitly direct him to move his train on the suit's 
authority.  The conductor called to the engineer "pull them ahead" and Pow, 
hangers are breaking and we are all done.  Last time anyone saw that young 
Assistant trainmaster.  He did certainly had his moment of being in charge.

The other topic yesterday involved "picking" of EP (by the way, Montclair 
Tower was EP, South Orange was mechanical, Rich) interlocking machines.  As 
I said, there was great commitment to keeping the railroad running.  One of 
the things I learned on my first day "posting" on the railroad was how to 
pick locks so that I could get in to pick interlocking machines or hand 
throw dual operation switch machines on the ground (as at DB).  I have kept 
this to myself all these years, but I guess I can say it now, as I don't 
think any of these folks are still with us.  Anyhow, one morning at Summit 
number 6 was running late, but not so late as being knocked down into the 
"Plan B" slot for him in the morning rush hour.  Instead, he was hooking 
401, who after cutting off from the Dover train, needed to cross over at the 
west end of the plant and get out on the P&D. If 401 ran late there was hell 
to pay for the rest of the rush off the branch.  Anyhow, 401s conductor 
signaled that they were ready to go , but I was already lined up and pulled 
east for number 6.  A quick conference with the maintainer and I decided to 
dump the signal on number 6 and get 401 out of town.  Just as I reached for 
and threw the lever, he hit the bell. What had he seen?  Did the approach 
signal dump down in his face to "approach"?  If I did, would he have seen 
it? Of course not, but hope prevailed over good judgment and reality.  We 
went ahead, Harry picked the switch, and we lined up 401 from track one to 
the branch.  The engineer was a really nice guy but not the sharpest tool in 
the shed.  He clearly had assumed that we were going to hold him for number 
six, and when the switches lined him up and the signal went red over green I 
think he was confused.  He was very slow to get going and make the move. 
Sweating bullets now, we are all looking out the windows to see number 6 
coming around the bend from West summit.  Sure enough, 401 is spread out 
across the crossovers heading west as number 6 appears moving at track 
speed, anticipating his regular stop at the East End of the plant.  No 
radio, remember.  Six throws it in the hole as 401 completes his move. We 
picked the switches over as the last truck on the train cleared each 
crossover, and yanked the eastbound signal clear.  Number 6 comes to a stop 
between the signal and the crossover,  figures out what has happened, and 
pulls down to his regular stopping point.

Deeply concerned about the engineer and fireman, and shaking like a leaf 
over the barely avoided No 6 T-bones Commuter Train event I had created, I 
went downstairs and climbed up into the E8 to face the men I had almost 
killed, and apologized profusely, making no excuses.  They were, of course, 
extremely unhappy with me, but were also in a state of recovering from the 
near disaster, feeling relief.  I let it be known to them that I fully 
expected them to report this and that I deserved the consequences.

Later that morning, after the rush was done and everybody was in the barn in 
Hoboken, the outside phone rang, and Howard Oakley, the long time M&E 
dispatcher, quietly told me that he had spoken to the engineer & conductor 
of No 6, and that he understood what I and Harry ( the signal maintainer who 
was in his mid-30s and had four children and a wife to feed) had done.  He 
quietly communicated that he understood we were trying to get the trains 
over the road, and that he expected me to learn from this.  It slowly dawned 
on me that the train crew and Howard were not going to write it up.

I have never forgotten that day.  In fact, I still remember it often with a 
dreaded notion of "what if." I was very lucky and fortunate that day.  It 
was a big mistake.  Thank God no one had to pay for my mistake.

Well, there it is folks, my first public confession of this in 36 years.  Be 
gentle with me.

Len VanderJagt 


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