Meet
at the Zoo
I strolled into the crew
room in Detroit, Michigan, and was rather surprised to note that I was not the
first person to arrive at work this day. A tall, neatly uniformed conductor was
glancing at the orders.
“ I guess I’m your help
today.” He allowed.
It developed that he was a
Chicago employee. A new guy, who had been prevailed upon (by a dispatcher in
crew management) to forgo his return training trip with his Chicago crew and be
my help, instead. Apparently we were a bit shorthanded in Detroit. Since it was
a Friday
The Train From Hell
and I was working the late train, expecting three or four hundred people, I was glad to have the help.
Even a new guy from Chicago.
I told him as much as we
reviewed the manifest and got our paperwork together. I was somewhat relieved to
see my regular engineer sign in, followed closely by our regular Bar Man. Both
of these fellows can be a big help on a busy night. After a brief safety
meeting, we head out to inspect the equipment. This gives Paul and I a chance
to become acquainted. He seems on the ball, seems to know his revenue and can
sell tickets, and is familiar with our system of using seat checks to keep
track of the passengers.
“ I’ve heard a lot about you,”
says he. “ Didn’t you used to work out of Chicago?”
“I certainly did. Some 12 or
13 years. I hope what you heard wasn’t all bad?”
“On the contrary, all good.
I’m glad we have a chance to work together.”
This was a very nice thing
to say. With a busy evening shaping up ahead of us, starting out on the right
foot was a good sign. We continued to discuss what we might expect in terms of
a crowd and how we might seat them? Another added bonus was that all the coaches
were usable - with functioning toilets and air conditioning. On this warm summer’s
evening, this was yet another plus. When it’s busy, the trick is letting people
be able to spread out and get comfortable - and still be able to find them when
it’s time to get off.
Amtrak coaches are set up
for between 80 and 90 people, but are only really comfortable for the traveling
public with about half that many. Folks like to have an empty seat next to
them. It’s possible to cram them in like sardines if it means that no one has
to stand up. However, to have a crowded car next to an empty car, is not a good
idea. Another factor to consider when deciding how to load the train is this:
where are the doors? Some coaches have doors at each end. Some only have doors
at one end. How the coaches line up determines how far it might be necessary to
walk in order to find an open doorway? Ideally, there is a doorway between
every coach. However, a coach with only one doorway has what is known as a, ‘blind
end’. If the coaches line up with two ‘blind ends’ next to each other, that means no doorway at
that vestibule.
One (experienced) man can
work four crowded cars in a pinch (if the doors line up OK), with no passenger
having to walk more than two cars to detrain. Even Amtrak allows that after
seven coaches a conductor is entitled to another helper. We had eight coaches.
I was lucky to have one ‘new’ helper. Amtrak likes to pretend that the cafe car
is not a revenue coach when it comes time to assigning additional help, even
though most cafe cars have revenue seats in one, if not both ends?
Paul and I developed a
boarding plan that would put passengers into the coaches - grouped by
destination. Paul would load Chicago passengers near the head of the train, and
I would try to group intermediate passengers by their destinations, in the
remaining coaches. In other words, I would ask each passenger their destination
as they boarded. And then send them either left or right depending? It is a
simple truth that not everyone understands left and right, nor is everyone
inclined to follow instructions. Folks will reach the vestibule at the top of
the stairs and glance each way - and then walk into whichever coach seems the
most empty, regardless of any instructions they might have been given at the
bottom of the stairs. That’s why the ‘seat
checks’ are so important. Each seat check tells the conductor several things
about the person sitting in that seat. It can tell their gender, their race,
their age, and most important—their destination. The seat check also indicates
that a ticket has been lifted for that passenger.
This is one example of seat
check codes.
Our trains worked several
college towns, where kids were constantly trying to outwit the Conductors, and
get free rides. We were forever changing
our codes to stay one jump ahead!
We would announce on the PA
– if you change seats, please move your seat check with you. Like, THAT did a
lot of good!
Thus, the above would
indicate to the Conductor that he might find an Asian woman going to Ann Arbor,
sitting under such a seat check.
And, thusly, if it wasn’t
an Asian woman, why not?
A popular trick that the
students liked to pull was to get on the train and grab the first seatcheck they
could. Then settle into an empty seat, put up the stolen seatcheck and pretend to be asleep.
This is where
the ‘codes’ might come in handy.
Unfortunately, it’s also
true that not everyone likes to sit in the same seat all away to their destination.
Or, that after returning from the cafe car for the
second or third time, they’ll have the faintest recollection of what car they
were in at all?
Carry by.
That’s what it’s called
when a passenger does not detrain at their scheduled destination. If this
situation occurs it is always (in Amtrak's eyes) the conductor’s fault. Here is a good general
rule for a new Conductor to
remember: whatever goes wrong, is by
definition, the conductor’s fault. Approaching any given destination, the crew
will walk through the coaches looking at (and pulling down) the seat checks for
that city. They will wake people up and tell them that the next stop is their
stop. They will tell them where a door will be open. They will tell them how
many minutes until the train arrives at their destination. A good crew will
count how many people they expect to get off and make sure that’s how many
people detrain. This becomes increasingly difficult as the numbers approach 100
at any given station. This is when a working public address system is worth its
weight in gold.
It is an awkward situation
to have a passenger approach a member of the crew, asking, ‘When will we get to
Battle Creek?’, when the train left
Battle Creek 10 minutes ago.
What happens next? Amtrak
foots the bill to have a taxi waiting at the next station to take them back to
Battle Creek. The conductor gets grief.
The more that I talked to
Paul the more I tended to feel that our trip to Chicago- although busy- would
work out all right. Paul seemed to be calm and efficient. We left on time and
we were still on time after the first two or three stops. We had about 100
passengers on board as we approached our first heavy station stop, Dearborn
Michigan. Amtrak’s scheduled station times (called dwell times) never change,
regardless of how many passengers might be boarding the train. Here’s where a
good engineer can make a world of difference. We left Dearborn at least two
minutes late, but due to the talents of my engineer, we arrived on time at our
next station, Ann Arbor Michigan. If you might be one of those conductors who
doesn’t realize that you are at the station until the train stops, don’t expect much
help from your engineer.
The first indication of
possible difficulties between here and Chicago became evident at Jackson, the next stop. Once
again, an employee on his toes helped us out a lot. The Jackson ticket agent
had been watching the progress of our opposite numbers, the eastbound trains
leaving Chicago. They were late and getting later, due to signal problems
outside Chicago, where a contractor had chopped through one of the signal
cables. We expect to meet two different Amtrak trains on our way to Chicago.
The International, on its way to Canada - we meet at Battle Creek. And our
opposite number, the Twilight Limited,
we meet at Kalamazoo, before it continues on to Detroit. These ‘meets’ are
carefully planned and very important. That’s because there are only so many
places were two trains can meet. That’s because most of the double track
mainline has been ripped out in order to save a penny here and a penny there.
Instead, there are
infrequent sidings where trains may pass one another. Assuming all the trains
are on time all the time, this business of meeting at the sidings will actually
suffice. It was beginning to look like today might not be one of those days.
When the meets are off, the old adage of:
‘late trains get later’, begins to take effect.
This notion began to firm
up as we did our station work at Battle Creek. The International was nowhere in
sight. The Battle Creek ticket agent,
not one apt to be accused of being on his toes, had no idea what was
going on? They all get paid the same.
My engineer said that he
judged from what he was hearing on the radio, that we might meet everyone at
Kalamazoo, (Meet at the ZOO) the next stop. We now had over 300 passengers.
Picture, if you will, the
situation at Kalamazoo? The Eastbound International is over two hours late and they have
about 100 passengers milling anxiously on the platform. The Twilight Limited, also late, has about 100 passengers
milling about anxiously on the platform. Our westbound passengers, perhaps 100,
although not waiting that long - are also milling about anxiously on the
platform. This equates to a mass of humanity. And I forgot to mention something
important to Paul.
Train sets. We are on the
train set going west. Two eastbound train sets were waiting to pull into the
Kalamazoo station. We got there first - we had to, in order to free up the
eastbound tracks. It used to be that you could tell which way a train was going
by which end had the engine? Assuming that you were actually paying attention.
Our train sets had an engine at each end - no help. Why? So that at the end of the line, the engineer
would merely walk to the opposite engine, and maintenance crews would turn the
seats in the coaches the other way. Thus, the eastbound train set became the
westbound, without the trouble of taking the equipment around a ‘wye’.
This means that the trains pulling into the
Kalamazoo station this evening had an engine on each end. So it’s no wonder that
as train number 354, westbound to Chicago pulled in, 300 people thought it was
their train, and 200 of them were wrong.
Somehow, our Kalamazoo
passengers had drifted into all seven coaches, as well as a few in the cafe.
The public address system did not seem to be operating at all. I’d been calling
Paul on the radio with no success.
It takes years to train
yourself to always listen for your name on the radio.
To his credit, Paul had the
correct door open as we pulled into the Kalamazoo station. However, he was
unprepared for the great influx of passengers that began swarming onto the train.
We’d had a celebrity on the
train that evening. Oprah’s boyfriend, Stedman. He had detrained at Battle
Creek, leaving his several thousand dollar cashmere overcoat on the train. Why
was he carrying such a coat on a warm summer evening? Because he can. Pulling
into Kalamazoo, my engineer got an emergency call from the dispatcher,
suggesting that I give a call, immediately? In spite of trying to detrain in
excess of 100 passengers spread over seven coaches I did get the dispatcher on
the phone. Would we please send Stedman’s cashmere overcoat back to Battle
Creek? Money talks. I promptly forgot about it.
On the platform at
Kalamazoo it was mass confusion. The bar Man had graciously consented to open a
door for me, so we did have three doors open. He was yelling at the top of his
lungs, “This train is westbound, westbound! If you’re going to Chicago, this is
your train. If you’re going to Detroit your train will be here shortly. If you’re
going to Canada your train will be here shortly.” I was doing the same at my
door. That’s what I forgot to tell Paul.
Finally, the great crush of
passengers around our doors seem to be dwindling. I looked at each of my
helpers and began giving them the signal to close up their traps. Over the
radio I could hear the eastbound conductors (Chicago friends) beginning to rag
us—why don’t you get that train out of the station and let a real job go to work?
At this point, the good
news is that between Kalamazoo and our next station stop, Niles Michigan, we
might look forward to a very pleasant and long 45 minute journey. This would be
the first chance that we’d really had to relax since leaving Detroit, several hours
ago. In fact, it should be downhill from here to Chicago.
My radio crackled to life. ‘Hello
Dave? Can you meet me in the second coach?’
Working my way through
several coaches of bubbly Friday night passengers trying to find seats, I
reached Paul.
“Dave, I think these folks
want to go to Battle Creek?”
Paul had a party of four, two couples, drunk
on their fannies, that had gotten on the wrong train.
I keyed my mic, at the same
time popping open the trap on the north side of the train. “Hello eastbound,
where are you guys?”
I was staring into a
headlight, that immediately went to dim. “Just about to pass you now, Dave,
what’s up?”
“We have a package for your
train, in fact (remembering Stedman’s overcoat) several packages.”
“No problem. We’ll open
behind two, you stop the trains.”
Sending Paul to grab the
overcoat I began giving car lengths to the engineers. I could see a trap open
behind two on the eastbound train.
“Four car lengths, easy. Two
cars. Ease up some more, that’ll do.”
I jumped down into the
ballast between the two mains with a step box. However, the vestibule doorways
lined up so well that the passengers could merely step across from one train to
the other!
Handing the step box back
up to Paul, I spoke to my good friend, Art
Art's Story
, on the eastbound.
“Thanks for helping out!
You guys are running a bit tardy.”
“It’s nuts once you get to
the Chicago Line. Pretty much restricted speed all the way from Hammond,
downtown. Good luck!”
Once everything settled
down we made good time all the way to Porter, Indiana. There we sat for some
time waiting for signals on the Chicago Line. Which never came. Finally the
dispatcher turned us lose to run at restricted speed all the way downtown,
where we arrived nearly three hours late. The good news is that we had a
well-stocked cafe car and didn’t run out of booze.
The bad news is that by the next morning on our way east the signals were still out. Further bad news was that I ended up working that train by myself. Saturday going east was only a few hundred passengers. It worked out OK. I’ve had worse trips, working alone.
Amtrak riders have learned not to expect to get anywhere in a hurry.
Over the years Paul and I became pretty good
buddies, and he became a first class Conductor.