On Time

by Paul Kozerski

  The site was spawned of modest origins. Originally, it was only meant to free up downtown congestion of inbound livestock trains. But, the combination of expanded meat processing needs and restrictive downtown ordnances enhanced its role.

  The mini-complex proved its ability to sort several hundred cars daily and to do so without the benefit of modern and much more efficient, gravity-humps. It was also endowed as a sweet water site. Thick limestone deposits filtered trackside wells here, incurring little expense for water softening chemicals or costly boiler repairs required in other districts.

  Small in stature, but mighty in output, this yard was a respected and noble landmark, tenacious enough to bear the name of the town supporting it - until now.

  A dull throb wormed through Jim as he reflected, one he imagined a doctor must share, when standing before a patient who doesn’t yet know they are terminally ill. He gazed skyward for a moment’s respite. But doing so only sharpened a horrific after-image of the devastating announcement branded on his eyes.

  NOTICE TO ALL PRAIRIE DIVISION PERSONNEL

  In accordance with a resolution reached by its board of directors and mechanical operating department, on the eighteenth of October, 1955, a decision has been made to convert the entire the Chicago, Cahokia and Southern Railroad to diesel-electric power.

  As such, the company will embark immediately on a total dieselization program for its locomotives, with a goal of full implementation to take place by the first of January, 1957. Accordingly, the company has entered into a contract with the ELECTRIC ENGINE COMPANY of Stafford, Illinois, to place an initial order for 200 of both their Common Service and Special Service, road-switching engines, with an option for 100 more.

  In hand with the company’s conversion to diesel power, all steam-related occupations and facilities have been graded according to new company requirements and will be slated for revamping, reassignment, or termination.

  Depending on their seniority and job classification, affected workers with transferable skills will be able to bid on similar jobs at consolidated diesel maintenance sites within the company. Those workers with job skills strictly relating to steam engine support work and no longer required by the company will be permanently furloughed.

  Job classifications facing consolidation or personnel reductions road-wide will be the following:

  All brake and wheel.

  All air.

  All electrical.

  Skilled crafts terminating road-wide will be the following:

  All motion repair.

  All boiler and flue repair.

  All tender repair.

  Additionally, contributing company-wide locomotive service locations and freight yards have been rated. This rating is in accord to their geographical merit and realistic future possibilities, as far as conversion and upgrading to the new, diesel service. This action will result also in subsequent freight handling consolidations.

  Specifically regarding the Prairie Division, upon completion of their studies, it is the opinion of corporate planning and financial officers, that because its borders do not avail themselves to expansion and modernization with an updated, gravity-fed hump- switching or diesel maintenance facility, the Mayhew satellite freight yard will cease all locomotive service and daily freight classification operations within the next 18 months.

  Classification yard work, all light maintenance and general locomotive service chores as currently done at Mayhew, will be merged with those at Carbon, Illinois. A modern, twenty bay, drive-through diesel engine service facility, offering all classes of general maintenance, service, and repairs for the region will be built there. Carbon’s current 1500 car gravity hump yard will accordingly be expanded to handle 5,000 cars.

  In practical terms, this will mean the demolition and removal of Mayhew’s coaling bunker, water plugs, icehouse, and stock pens. The roundhouse will remain for the foreseeable future as a roofed storage depot. Similarly, the outdoor property will become a long-term bad car repository, joining its already existing caboose repair status, which will remain. Mayhew will also retain its post as a crew changing point.

  Finally, as part of the company’s updating to total centralized traffic control, the need of manned block towers throughout the Prairie Division will also begin their termination.

  Respectfully,

  The Mechanical Operating Department,

  Chicago, Cahokia, and Southern Railway

  Brutally simple and viciously brief, the unheralded news arrived as a sucker punch mixed in that day’s regular mail. Jim happened across it accidentally in opening the tower’s normal post and only then saw it was addressed specifically to DeLynne. Any sort of intended special delivery had been bungled.

  He’d refolded the notice and slid it back in its cover. Wordlessly carrying the confidential news into the man’s office, Jim set it face down on Dee’s desk and turned to leave. But, there was no hiding the fact of the information having been compromised.

  “This was personal,” said Dee, to Jim’s back. “You weren’t supposed to see it.”

  Jim paused.

  “Sorry. I was in a hurry to get through the mail and didn’t notice it mixed in with the daily stuff.”

  DeLynne looked about, then motioned for him to remain.

  “Cat’s out of the bag now. So, you might as well get the skinny on things.”

  Jim came about.

  “They’re really closing the yard?”

  Dee leaned forward in a harsh, clinical whisper.

  “If, by they, you mean the Interstate Commerce Commission, your nation’s new interstate highway system, and assorted meat processing companies; then yes, they are closing the yard.”

  The young man felt the bottom drop from both his stomach and world.

  “When was everyone going to be told?”

  “There’ll be a general meeting day after tomorrow, at the same time everyone else on the whole road learns. The wording will vary, from this note here, according to division, and yard. But, a common press release will hit the newspapers at the same time.”

  DeLynne checked his watch and tucked the notice in a shirt pocket. Starting toward his car, he loitered in a moment’s study of his protégé.

  “I know that you’re new to the world of real business. But, if you want to survive in it, you’d better get your head on straight about certain things. A company - any company’s - survival, depends on its core health. That translates to dollars and cents. And a healthy business hinges on its ability to stay lean and competitive against all hostile threats.

  “These days the steel and mining industries are striking one after another, for a bigger piece of the pie. And getting it every time, while we can’t even manage a tax break from Uncle Sam. Now, a growing trucking industry is about to take full advantage of the brand new, federally funded, freeway system with dock-to-door service, while we’re stuck with outmoded routes and old fashioned freight yards - like this one, here.”

  Jim looked on, feeling numb and ill-used, as the man expounded.

  “Practicing business is no different than practicing medicine. There, they cut off a finger to save a hand, a hand to save an arm, and an arm to save a life. The same here. The closing of outmoded places like Mayhew will save countless other jobs road-wide. It’s nothing personal, just business.”

  Jim’s tongue thawed enough for a curt rebuttal.

  “That’s got to be a lot easier to take when a person’s not on the receiving end.”

  The other man’s gaze toughened.

  “And just what does that mean? That the company, in wanting to survive, is wrong?”

  “I’m saying these Mayhew guys’re hardworking people.” Answered Jim. “People who are my neighbors and friends. People who’ve given their lives to this yard. They’ve never looked for a handout, just something that might be reliable, in ret
urn.”

  DeLynne assented.

  “And they’re also ones who have been paid for every single minute of their time. What else are they, or any of us, owed? An unfortunate, hard fact of life, is that there’s always gonna be winners and there’s always gonna be losers. Like it or not, we all join up and hope for the best.

  “Carbon won out with the new freight yard and service center. Mayhew didn’t. Bottom line. Logical choice. On the other hand, caboose carpentry for the whole road will stay right here. Sounds like additional steel car repair work might even join it. So, isn’t it better for some of the local people to still get a paycheck, than nobody at all?”

  DeLynne’s eyes narrowed.

  “That could mean your check, too. This yard will close, but still remain company property. As such, an onsite administrator slot would need filling. Through it, other doors might well open to you for better job opportunities, elsewhere. But that’d come from my recommendation and whatever you want to make of your remaining time before this place actually folds.”

  Dee tapped a finger to the pocketed announcement.

  “Telling you all of this early is a sign of faith, not only from me, but the whole company. Will we need to wonder about your allegiance?”

  He made a grim assessment of Jim’s new silence.

  “I’ll take that as a no. And keep what I said in mind. If you want to continue being a survivor, here or anywhere else, you’d better get your head on straight, as far as real-world give-and-take. Again, it ain’t personal; just business.”

  DeLynne nodded toward his desk phone.

  “I’m on my way to a meeting of this very topic, downtown. If anyone calls asking, I’m out, but you don’t know where.”

  So, here Jim now stood, feeling as an accomplice after the fact. Watching Mayhew workers labor through the end of another day, he knew that somewhere out of sight, dependent families conducted their own lives, both totally unaware of their collapsing world.

  Jim came about to the sound of crunching cinders. He was surprised to see his approaching father and quickly shoved his distress behind. Still, Joe keyed on its fleeing shreds.

  “Is this a bad time?”

  Jim drew some strength from his dad’s rare bid at workplace talk.

  “No. I’m good. What’s up?”

  As usual, Joe got right to the point. Here though, he stepped close and lowered his voice to an unusually secretive tone.

  “I’ve got something to share with you.”

  His uncommon manner of speech was puzzling.

  “How’s that?”

  “Eddie-boy made a special point of calling the house last night. Seems he heard some talk about our spare hand that might not be so good.”

  With all else flying around in his head, it took a moment for Jim to regroup.

  “Who? Ulees?”

  Joe cast a glance toward the quiet yard office.

  “Uh-huh. Seems like your new, eager beaver boss started running some checks on the guy. And just maybe, he hit pay dirt. Ulees might have been involved in something pretty bad, back home, wherever he’s from.”

  Jim frowned.

  “Like what?”

  “Still a lot of speculation, but attempted murder, maybe. Might’ve beat some well-to-do guy pretty bad one time and Eddie says it could develop into a visit from the cops.”

  Jim went quiet to his second fatal pill of the day as Joe finished

  “Seeing how you two are friends, I thought you might want to know. You can do whatever you want with the information. At this point it’s all just saloon talk. So, no laws would be broke, if anyone special was to catch wind of it.”

  Joe managed one positive note.

  “Eddie did say he could probably slow things down some, if we wanted.”

  Father and son exchanged a look of mutual regard.

  “Okay,” replied Jim. “Yeah. Have him do that. Thanks.”

  “No sweat.”

  Joe then dug in his pocket and pulled out some folded currency.

  “Not sure how the guy is on dough. But, if you think it’s the right thing to do, maybe give him this for traveling.”

  Jim recognized the money as being from his dad’s new car stash.

  “You could do it yourself.”

  Joe shook his head and handed off the cash.

  “I don’t know him as well as you do.”

  Father and son lingered together a moment longer. But with his warning and money transfer, Joe’s purpose was over. He was turning away when Jim felt obliged to spill his own cruel news.

  “There’s something that I know, too.”

  Joe made a connection to his son’s earlier stance.

  “Yeah?”

  “A meeting will be held for everyone working here in a couple of days. And that news won’t be good, either.”

  The father gauged his son.

  “That so?”

  “Just heard it, myself.”

  Joe remained typically stoic.

  “Is this something an office guy should be telling an hourly one?”

  Jim shook his head.

  “Well, better stop then. Don’t want you getting in any kind of trouble with the company.”

  Jim smirked.

  “Yeah.”

  CHAPTER 22

  In this pre-environmental-awareness generation, the liberal use of heavy contaminating oils and caustic soda cleaners was an accepted way of American industry. Sloshed about with reckless abandon, years of such treatment had saturated the Mayhew freight yard to a depth that stifled and stunted the growth of most plant life. But every so often, a true miracle appeared among the toxic dross and today was such a time.

  After somehow having been sown amid the poisonous track ballast, a dazzling spray of radiant flower petals blossomed to greet the day. Borne by the fickle hand of nature, a single, tiny daisy had sprouted into this lethal world of railroading. It was bracketed by the oil-drizzled crossties of departure track Number 4 and rose exquisitely formed and unblemished, its petite yellow face and snow-white collar an ironic statement of hope set amid the dreary times.

  Left on its own, the fragile bloom would’ve soon withered from the heat and fumes about it. But, a pair of well-scuffed and peeled work boots happened along in rescue. The boot laces were mismatched, one, a frayed and spliced leather thong and the other, a simple length of grimy baling twine. Yet, they braced the little sprout protectively as their large owner dropped to a crouch before it.

  A second figure arrived, while the first addressed the moment.

  “Even Solomon in his glory was not arrayed as one of these.”

  Behind Ulees, Jim Graczyk huffed in wonder.

  “In the middle of all this. Who could ever guess? Won’t last long, though.”

  “Then I’ll just have to do somethin’ ‘bout that.”

  The laborer patiently cleared away impinging cinder chunks and excavated the delicate bloom with the bare tips of a powerful hand. Rising to his feet, a full head and shoulders taller than Jim, he elevated the plant even higher.

  “Mebbe we’ll just take you up yonder and make a little better place for you to enjoy the day.”

  Jim trailed after, silently following to a shaded spot in cleaner ground.

  There, Ulees again trenched the earth barehanded. Depositing the sprout, he gently tamped fresh soil about its roots.

  “Rest easy little one. You’ll be okay now.”

  The spare hand meticulously dusted off his knees then faced his friend.

  “Something tells me you ain’t out to watch no flower get moved, are you now, young Jim?”

  “No.”

  “Mebbe it’d be best to just say what’s on your mind, then.”

  “I’ve heard some news that isn’t too good.”

  Ulee
s studied the blossom.

  “’Bout me, is it?”

  “Yeah. You might want to be leaving town - soon.”

  The laborer glanced toward the distant yard office.

  “Always knew there could come a time. Guess now’s as good as any.”

  Jim subtly pulled a fold of bills from his pocket, some of his own now mixed with the cash Joe had given him.

  “Pa and I wanted to give you a little traveling money to speed things up. It’s no charity. Just a gift.”

  Ulees considered the offer with strong regard.

  “Warning me off means a bunch. But, I don’t want your money. Instead, could you spare a few minutes to walk with me? I ain’t never told my story to no one and I’d like to do it here and now.”

  Jim shook his head.

  “Not a good idea. Whatever, it’s none of my business. I don’t want to hear something that could be forced from me later. It’d be best to not say anything at all.”

  The big man deferred Jim’s caution.

  “I ain’t worried. Someone ever asks, you just tell ‘em, flat out and straight up, exactly what you hear me say. Okay?”

  Jim nodded reluctantly.

  “Good. Then let’s us walk on a piece.”

  The pair started off and Ulees began.

  “Prob’ly the worst you heard is true. I got me in a stupid, hard bind, back home, just ‘afore I showed up here. Not over money, a woman’s love, or even pride; just a silly hound dog that wouldn’t hunt.”

  He gave his head a slow wag.

  “Guess that shows just how smart I ain’t.”

  The big man paused a time in his delivery, as if still privately working to reconcile the matter.

  “Place I come from is dirt poor. But, it’s like anywheres else, in the kind of people it has. It’s got its good folk and ones that ain’t. One smart-alecky guy in my town was a fellah about my age, named Thad.

  “Thad’s people was better folks, ‘cause his granddaddy owned the one dry goods and hardware store in the area. And because of it, Thad always had spendin’ money in his pocket and a mouthful of wind.