CHAPTER VII" THE FLOOD"; ELECTED CHIEF OF
DIVISION 223, AND DELEGATE TO THE GRAND INTERNATIONAL DIVISION
IN CHICAGO
IN 1882, our road changed hands, and became merged in the East
Tennessee, Virginia and Georgia railroad. During the first two
years with the new system my run was from Selma to Rome, a distance
of one hundred and ninety-six miles. Then the run was lengthened
to Cleveland, Tennessee, and we made the two hundred and sixty-four
miles in eight hours and twenty minutes.
Soon after this change was made the New Orleans Exposition
opened, and traffic greatly increased on our Southern lines. From
all sections of the country, people made their way in throngs
towards the Crescent City, for expositions had not then become
such common events. I caught the prevailing fever, and decided
to take my son and oldest daughter with me on the trip. Before
reaching New Orleans, the engineers sent for me to come ahead
and ride over Lake Pontchartrain in the engine. I did so and greatly
enjoyed it. We arrived on Mardi Gras day, February 17, 1885, and
I found myself in the largest crowd I had ever seen, Canal Street
being a solid mass of surging humanity for a mile. At the night
parade, the streets were even more densely thronged. We remained
a week taking in the sights, and two of these are strongly impressed
upon my memory. It was there I saw my first battleship, the United
States man-of-war, Galena. We went aboard and were much
impressed with the big cannon, one of which weighed seventeen
thousand pounds, and a Gatling gun claiming to shoot two hundred
times a minute. Then, at the exposition grounds we had a ride
on the first electric railway ever exhibited. The track was only
sixty feet in length, and instead of there being a trolley, the
rails were charged. On the surface of a flat car, ten feet long,
the passengers seated themselves, more or less comfortably,
and had a ride both ways for five cents.
The next October our boy attained to man's estate, and married
three days later. And after that the deluge! In point of fact,
the following spring this whole country was inundated. Heavy rains
had fallen for two or three weeks, and when I went out on my run,
April 1st, all the rivers and creeks were greatly swollen, and
by the time 1 reached Rome the whole country was flooded, so that
it was impossible to go on to Cleveland. It was nearly a week
before I could get out of Rome, when I commenced running towards
Selma, as the road was repaired. My first trip was only as far
as Cave Springs and back, the next to Piedmont, then to Anniston;
and finally, after two round trips to Plantersville, I came on
into Selma, after an absence of two weeks. Upon reaching home,
the folks had much to tell about their experiences during the
high water. Early
in the morning on April 2d, the water had begun coming into our
yard in a small stream on the eastern side. Twenty-four hours
later, it was twenty-nine inches deep, and still rising. That
evening, two families occupying a house much lower than ours,
and into which the water had almost arisen, were brought across
the street to our house in a boat. It thus happened that thirteen
women and children spent the night here, with one young man as
protector, while the water rose steadily, an inch an hour. The
rise during the day, though, had been twice that. At eight-thirty
the next morning, the water lacked only six inches of entering
the house. So, as her guests had already sought higher ground,
Frances decided to go up to my sister's beyond Red Hill rather
than remain in an uncertainty, and, at best, isolation, for she
said there were only the frogs for company. Rescue boats were
out, and friends took them safely through the submerged portion
of the town. That evening they came back in a furniture wagon
to see if the piano could be moved, and found the water at a standstill,
just under the door sill, while it stood two feet deep in the
house across the street. It was two weeks before the water entirely
disappeared, and when I first caught sight of Frances upon my
return, she was scattering lime far and wide, "to prevent
sickness," she said.
In 1887, I was elected Chief Engineer of Division No. 223,
and also delegate to the Grand International Division of the Brotherhood
of Locomotive Engineers in Chicago. It had been the custom of
the Division to meet on Sunday, and when "the boys"
wanted to give me the office of Chief, I said, "If you elect
me you will never hold another meeting on the Sabbath." I
was Chief for twenty-three consecutive years, and kept my word!
During that time, I represented Division No. 223 at thirteen conventions,
served continually as chairman of the local committee, with exception
of two years, and was also General Chairman of the Southern Railway
from 1895 to 1901. I resigned the offices of Chief and Local Chairman
with my retirement from railroad service last January.
But to return to the fall of '87, when we attended our first
convention, for Frances went with me to every one. When I told
her that I wanted her to go, adding that we would take a sleeper
and have a nice, comfortable trip, she said, "Yes, I'll enjoy
going, but don't think I will like to sleep in one of those sleeping
cars." I told her that when I was at work I pulled them,
and when I was off on a trip I was going to ride in one, and if
she was going with me she would have to make up her mind to ride
in them, and sleep there. She got along so well, and enjoyed it
so much, that in all our trips after that she asked about a sleeper
the first thing. On our way to Chicago, we concluded to stop over
at Cincinnati, and take a look at that city. We arrived there
early in the morning, took a cab for the Gibson House, had breakfast,
then boarded a street car for the Zoological Gardens. We enjoyed
the sights so much that we spent the greater part of our time
there. After leaving the Zoo, we took in the principal points
of interest in the city. Among the places we visited were the
Art Gallery, the Museum, and the noted Beer Garden on Walnut Hill.
We left there at night well pleased with our visit. My wife wanted
to know when we started, if we would have a sleeper. We arrived
in Chicago the following morning. A number of the delegates had
written on ahead and secured places, but a good many like ourselves
were on the hunt for boardinghouses. The Palmer House had been
selected as headquarters, and we supposed that it was the place
to stop. We put up there and were entertained in princely style.
It was at that time the finest hotel in Chicago, the rooms being
elegant and the dining-room magnificent. Frances enjoyed our three
weeks' stay immensely and saw many sights in the big cities. In
fact, she saw a good many things that I didn't, as I was in the
Convention Hall the biggest part of the time. The ladies were
given a trip to Waukesha, about ninety-eight miles from Chicago,
and Frances went, and greatly enjoyed it. Also an excursion to
Joliet, where the Illinois State prison was visited.
One thing of great interest to engineers was a display of the
Westinghouse air-brake. The exhibit was twenty cars, running at
forty miles an hour, and stopping inside of a train length. That
was the first freight train I ever saw equipped with air, so when
I returned home, I had a good deal to say about the freight train
that I saw on the Chicago and Great Northern railroad that was
stopped by air. The train reminded me of my younger days on the
Selma, Rome, and Dalton road, when the conductor was responsible
for stopping the train at all stations, and no freight or passenger
train passed by any station, much less a water tank. Those were
hand brakes too, which shows that where railroad men work in harmony
they can accomplish a good deal. Railroading was as pleasant and
agreeable as running a farm in a level country, where we got to
sleep every night and had Sundays for church-going and rest. But
since air has been introduced, the engine crew has been held responsible
for everything pertaining to train service, except registering
and seeing that the markers are displayed, the stove kept hot,
and the boxes all cushioned in the cabooses. When the convention
closed, I didn't know whether Frances and I would ever get another
trip, so we decided while we were out to visit St. Louis. We enjoyed
everything and stayed as long as our money lasted. Having heard
of the bridge there across the Mississippi River, we went to see
it. A fair and exposition were going on at the same time, and
we attended both. The city was so crowded that we found it difficult
to get lodgings, but finally secured accommodation at the St.
Louis Hotel. We went up and up to the room assigned us-and such
a room! Frances fussed and scolded for some time, and I think,
took nearly everything out of her grips to spread on the bed before
she would lie down. I guess she would have emptied her trunk if
she had had it, but it had been sent on ahead. We hunted better
quarters next day. When we turned our steps homeward, we were
thankful for what we had enjoyed, but were glad to get home. It
is needless to say that we had plenty to talk about for quite
a while.
The Brotherhood also had something to interest it the next
year, namely: the Chicago, Burlington & Quincy strike. We
all know how that terminated. I don't remember now how much each
brother on this road donated to the strikers, but I do know that
the members of Division No. 223 were behind with their assessments
about $800.00, when I was elected Chief Engineer. Inside of a
few months, every member was square; from that time on, I could
be elected to any office in the Division.
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