Broken Knuckle on East Belt

The outbound road crew of the 2577 N-1 bludgeoned the yard office's unreliable Super-Caff Cola machine for their night's cold drinks as the operator laid out their train orders. The Brushclump Super-Caff distributor wasn't real particular about the condition of his machines as long as they worked once in a while. The one at the BS&P office had gouges, dents and karate kick marks all the way to the top.

The 301 switch engine crew was bored and idle at that moment. Ratchet and Redmon were skinning a rattlesnake beside the building as "Cootie" Lowe stuffed Hillbilly's gloves full of cigarette butts. (Cootie was a rail car repairman and would later find his hard hat nailed to the wall).

Train # 2577 groaned out of the yard and made its way toward the big city of Hotsun, (pop. 1 million and subsiding).

Making a reasonably expeditious trip through the city's rail network towards the port rail yard, it was halted by a stop signal. The train was only stopped for a couple of minutes before the signal cleared up (Proceed) and engineer Raoul Steadily began waiting for the air brakes to release throughout the train.

Unfortunately, this was the East Edge, the bad side of town for anybody and everybody. The air brakes on a train set first on the engine and work their way back. The whole shebang does not set up all at once. They release from the engine back as well. While the train was stopped, a local yokel looking for a prank turned an air brake valve on the 75th car. As the 2577 had 110 loads of potash, this act left the brakes set on 35 fully loaded freight cars.

Normally, with good radio communication between engine and caboose, (before some desk jockey's brilliant invention of eliminating cabooses) the conductor or rear brakeman would inform the engineer that the brakes were released and air pressure was up. Having a couple of real boll weevils on the rear end, Steadily was not overly concerned with lack of radio responses. After waiting what would have ordinarily been a safe period of time for the brakes to release, He opened the throttle on five locomotives.

The trusty EMD Geeps wound up rpms, grunted and groaned and broke a knuckle (coupler) on the car with the closed air valve. On trains, a sudden loss of brake air sends the brakes into emergency and crew members have to find the problem and correct it. Loads of fun.

The engines were just blocking Sinkburg Street and the caboose was blocking Telegraph Road. Both were busy thoroughfares in a seedy part of town and this was at 1:55 A.M. on Saturday night. All the bars were clearing out and every weirdo in the neighborhood was turned on.

Rear brakeman Space Case Wynn started forward from the caboose with a pipe wrench and air hose (standard RR. procedure) while Conductor Phlough remained on the caboose to deter souvenir hunters and more pranksters.

About 20 cars away, Space Case was accosted by several drunks walking home along the tracks. Not being too happy about having a train tying up the whole town, they began throwing beer bottles at S.C. and chased him back to the caboose.

Phlough was having his own sideshow at this moment. Since the Telegraph Road crossing is somewhat higher than the normal street level, car drivers can see under the train. The driver of first car in line at the crossing was pretty well blotto after his night's carousing and obviously thought there wasn't really any reason for cars to stop, as he looked under and past the hopper car next to the caboose. As the Conductor stared open mouthed, he put his car in gear and stuffed it under the aforementioned railcar.

He got out, stumbled around and exclaimed "#&(@***! That's a train!."

Such a profound statement was almost too much for Phlough who replied, "Of course it is! What did it look like? A goat cart?"

“That's a train” the drunk repleated.

“Yeah, that's a train, and you're drunk."

“Let's talk about the train."

“No, let's talk about you. You're drunk and you've just had a wreck."

"I want to talk about the train."

"Don't talk. You better get out of here. There's a cop just down the street coming this way."

"Don't want to talk about the train?"

"NO! GET LOST!"

Just as this character wobbled on off down a side street trailing a cloud of steam, another car tried to drive over the rails directly behind the caboose. This auto stuck hard and fast in a very vulnerable position.

People were starting to get ugly. About this time Space Case ran back onto the caboose with half a dozen unsavory types throwing their empties at him. Both prone to over reacting, S.C. and Phlough beat a hasty retreat into the caboose and locked the doors. Several more onlookers joined in the fray finding bottle throwing a convenient and amusing vent to frustration, especially with the reaction the rear end crew exhibited.

With bottles breaking harmlessly against the caboose's steel body, the heroic train crew hid out in the toilet closet, shouting for help into the radio handset.

While all this was going on, the engine crew had their share of trouble. Being right squarely in the middle of a major street with a lot of bars closing, things on the head end weren't dull either. Brakeman Lonnie Ray and Fireman B.F. "Beef" Briskett started back with their air brake equipment looking for the trouble.

Steadily was leaning out the engineer's window looking rearward, trying to be polite to or ignore the increasingly irritable motorists blocked by the train. Suddenly seeing someone coming in the front door of the engine cab out of the corner of his eye, he was almost out the window and over the side before realizing that it was a RR official checking things out.

Ordinarily, most train crew members carried pistols on this run, even against company policy. Engineer Steadily had dropped his piece down the engine steps the week before, so it was at the gunsmith's on this date. Being without a weapon, his first instinct was to abandon ship by the nearest exit. (Most railroads only permit a special agent to carry a firearm on the property but that can't overrule the second amendment to the Constitution). Upon getting himself under control, he explained the situation to the Trainmaster.

Lonnie and Beef were walking back from the head end. Beef stopped in a curve so he could pass hand signals when the problem was corrected; Lonnie went on back. After a time Beef felt bored and somewhat alone.

Soon, footsteps could be heard approaching in the gravel. Having no weapon but flares and the gravel he was standing on, he peeled the striker caps on the flares. Just as he was about the light up, he saw the white hard hat and necktie.

By now the Sinkhole Terminal Line official had taken over the situation and told Beef to go back to the head end to meet the crew van and effect a crew change.

Lonnie was walking along the dimly lighted trackbed and came to a street crossing where several spaced out punkers were loitering around and sniffing something out of a wadded up rag.

"Like, Hey man! Wanna get high?" one of them slurred.

Lonnie decided it was a good neighborhood to be a long way away from.

Eventually, the Terminal Line switch engines moved the train off the road crossings and took it on to the yard, the crew bus picked up the crew of the 2577 and all had a good laugh on Space Case Wynn and Robert Phlough fleeing for their lives from ferocious beer bottles. Cruising around looking for the official who had gotten the situation finally in hand, the crew members were asked by several bystanders asked if they knew where the crew of the train had gone.

"I dunno, man. You never can tell whatthose weevil railroaders are gonna do!"