Metrolink111: Sick For Trains Today is Wednesday April 15. While others rush to the post office with red eyes and send off their tax returns, I am sitting here writing about my latest obsession: trains. I have two days off work. I work on Friday and then I have two days off work again because it is the weekend. This is a perfect time to catch you up on all my train happenings. It seems that I’ve spent more time at the Fullerton train station in the last two weeks than at work, or maybe I’ve spent the same amount of time at both places. Since I’m in training for new software I am not available to take overtime at work. Work isn’t offering much overtime but sometimes they do and if there’s any time I could use it would be now. Oh well, no matter, I’m spending time at the Fullerton train station. You know that, of course. Between listening to the Chatsworth accident hearing online, spending time at the station and reading railroad books and reading train travel online or reading articles written by other train enthusiasts I’d say I’m pretty much sick for trains. Would you say that? If you’ve been reading my essays you know it’s probably true. You might even be tired of reading them by now. NO matter, every time I write a train essay I’m capturing a moment in time. I have to tell you they are interesting moments. So let’s see if I can get you caught up. The Dog by the tracks You know that Chris has been joining me at the train station sometimes twice a week. Sometimes he has been very generous and has bought me dinner. I can’t say much I appreciate it because money has been tight around here. I don’t’ know if he understands how much I appreciate it. I try to buy for him when I can and last week I brought lunch from home for both of us so I could at least pay him back in some small way. I enjoy cooking and sometimes I cook too much so I have lots of food leftover. I’m happy to share it. He has a roommate and I don’t so my money isn’t as flexible as it always has been, but God is providing and so far the lights are on, the bills are paid, and the refrigerator is full. God is good and the train station is turning into a fun place. But I have to say that if there is anyone who enjoys the trains more than Chris or Shelley, it is Francis, Chris’s guide dog. He loves nothing more than to lie on the ground by the yellow line and prick up his ears when he sees and hears a train. He is not at all bothered by the overwhelming noise. Sometimes Francis likes to lead Chris to the tracks and wag his tail. Sometimes he leads him to the tracks when he’s trying to get to the bus stop or instead of going to the café he’ll want to go to the tracks. We always get Francis back on track, so to speak, but he can never wait to get back to the shiny, silvery rails called the railroad tracks. Francis is just as big a train fan as anyone there and he’s not afraid to show it. Crazy for the Engineer But if there’s something Francis doesn’t do it is to wave at the engineer. I have finally done that a few times. As the freights pull through the station I wave both hands. Now if the engineer sees it I don’t’ know, but nonetheless I do it. I’m sure the engineer has seen plenty of things happening if they’re watching. There was the engineer of course back in February who brought the train obediently to a stop to observe a red light, but since then I’ve been the one initiating the wave. Sometimes they blow the whistle as they go through the station and sometimes they don’t. I believe we’ve had a discussion about that in some of my essays so I won’t go into it anymore just to say that I have noticed the whistles don’t always get sounded through the station. And I learned something about the recording system for Union Pacific trains today when I listened to the union Pacific representative talk about safety testing and safety culture for the freight company. You know that one of the big issues is installing inward or forward facing cameras in the locomotives since the Chatsworth accident. The rep said that UP does have forward facing cameras and that the microphones are placed outside the train in such a way that they capture the sound of the horn as they are engaged. Sometimes, the representative stated, engineers can prove that they have followed all the correct rules just by virtue of the forward facing cameras. Oh the things the media hasn’t covered about this accident. They have concentrated of course on the fact that Rob Sanchez sent ninety-five text messages that day. Did they say the Union Pacific conductor who the representative explained was not a regular member of the crew sent and received 41 text messages while on duty that day? They kind of mention it but Rob gets the blame, of course. The conductor didn’t really have anything to do with the accident, but since safety is a big concern in this investigation, the conductor does get some media time. The engineer of the Leesdale Local UP LOF65 gets talked about so far only to say that he saw the conductor using the cell phone and didn’t report it. I guess it’s hard to report a conductor using a cell phone when he gets creamed by a Metrolink train. So far everyone is silent on the freight engineer but I’m not silent about any engineer. Part of the conversation that goes on at the station between me and Chris in the last few weeks is to suggest that someone is standing on the tracks and the engineer hits him. It’s really hard to explain, the implications are meant to be humorous, because sometimes I think that humor is the only way to deal with engineers hitting pedestrians. The problem with engineers hitting pedestrians is that the pedestrians are always at fault. It’s not the engineer’s fault, in my opinion. If someone is dumb enough to stand on the tracks, or jump out in front of the train, or park a car on the rails, or walk through a tunnel, then frankly the engineer should have no guilt associated with hitting that person. This all stems from the fact that Rob Sanchez wanted counseling, according to an interview given by his brother, because he hit that man who had walked out in front of the train on September 2, 2008. I had originally written that Rob hit the man on September 8, but no, it was September 2. It’s admirable that he felt so badly about this. It builds my case for Rob not deliberately wanting to cause an accident or being the type of person who would endanger lives with a train. If text messaging wasn’t smart, it certainly wasn’t as if he intentionally thought in his head that he would do that. Of course anyone who argues that I am giving him a big break might also say that I should have sympathy for anyone else who text messages and drives and hits someone. There are cases in the courts right now involving just that, but the one case I am thinking of doesn’t grab my attention as much as the train engineer not doing that intentionally. I’ve gone into my reasons for my sympathy, mainly because he was doing his business and expected to get home that night. Did he break company policy? If he was text messaging, yes. His text messages catch him in the act of allowing someone to ride in the locomotive who wasn’t authorized by company personnel. Now that’s being caught red-handed and you can bet that even locomotive engineers have gone online to defend Rob’s position, saying that operating a locomotive isn’t so hard, it wasn’t like the engineer couldn’t take the brake if he needed to. Operating a train, said the locomotive engineer who bravely defended Rob Sanchez, is much easier than piloting an airplane. The locomotive engineer who was brave enough to defend him has my grateful respect. Now how the man feels about text messaging? I don’t’ know. I just loved reading this engineer’s response to the whole question of who belongs and who doesn’t’ belong in the locomotive. Thank you Mr. Train Engineer for defending your colleague. It makes me even crazier for the engineer. Quiet Moments If the station offers comedy and spectacle, pretty good food, opportunities to talk to strangers and feel safe about it, the station also offers quiet moments. Quiet moments include sitting on the patio relaxing, or sitting on the bench with one of the fans, Doug, who tells me the signal colors and who tells me about the Original Whistle Stop railroad shop, or who asks about my cats or Chris’s dog. I explain to him that my cats like to snuggle at night and Francis loves trains. We sit in silence, he explains the color of signals or what track a train is on. I am now getting to the point where I can recognize the sound of a train crossing over from one track to another. Quiet moments occur as the weather gets cooler, the hour gets later, train traffic dies down, and as all the engineers in my dreams crawl into bed for the night and wait for the next call from their companies to work. I don’t’ think I would like a job like that. Just as I curled up with a good book, a nice cup of coffee, or had an emotional moment with someone or a friend, my phone would ring or blink or blare and I’d have to go to work. By the way, the Union Pacific representative at the Chatsworth hearing also explained that if an engineer felt that they were under the influence of alcohol or some other substance they could opt not to go to work when that call came. Wish I had that choice some days. Lucky engineer! Now I really am crazy for them. Bring them on and I’ll keep waving. I have to respect those people, they work hard and long and I’m sure they see things that they go home and tell their families about, including the dog by the tracks, the woman eating ice-cream, or who knows what. Only an engineer could tell us! Maybe someday they will tell me and I’ll write it all down. Being A Ham Chris is starting to get comfortable with the train station and has started bringing his ham radio down to enjoy the trains. He has one of his license’s. We ask Bob through Jose what frequency the train traffic is transmitted, and so now he stands by the tracks or on the patio and talks to his radio group. We never did find the train traffic. Chris said to Jose once that he would transmit on those frequencies, all in jest, of course, and Jose says “they’d come after you.” That would make the paper, a blind guy with a dog who is a train fan getting arrested by the fuzz and spending the night in the Fullerton jail just because he transmitted on a train traffic frequency. I’d have some explaining to do at work; or I would just say, hey I don’t’ know anything; I didn’t’ see a thing. Who Is the Best Cook About two weeks ago Chris ordered a triple cheeseburger. Christina looked askance and said “Are you kidding me?” Don’t’ worry, I explained, he wasn’t kidding. I also said that Chris would be in the bathroom, because he’s always in the bathroom so it wouldn’t matter who cooked the hamburgers, the results would be the same. Christina cooked the triple cheeseburger and Chris ate it. He hasn’t done it sense. Trains and Yakking Females ON Friday of last week I had the opportunity to go to a lady’s night out and watch a movie about Esther in the bible. I admire the story of Esther, she was brave and her actions saved an entire nation from extermination. But this Friday has been a hard day at work, the training is getting off to a rough start and while I am confident that I will learn it all, I have the nerve to bring up some trainer inadequacy with another trainer and am called into the office of the head trainer to answer some questions and explain some things that I did. I decide that the train station is a better choice tonight. There will be no movie about Esther tonight. I need to escape to the freights, to the cheeseburgers, to the friendly atmosphere and engineers and those who think they might be such. The trip proves to be nice and is a lot better than a movie. As I sit on the bench and breathe in the fresh air, as fresh as air can be in a place like this, two girls play tag behind me, a woman talks on her cell phone, and there aren’t many trains. Chris has left because Francis became ill on the patio due to something he ate earlier, and so now I am by myself. I stay late and enjoy everything, including an Amtrak train that pulls up going to Union station. The car door opens and the conductor is standing there talking to the people who are getting on the train. He faces me. If I want to, I can wave and say hello. I sit there. His keys ring. I still have to find out what conductors carry that make such noises. I know he has something for punching the tickets. The next time I see one I’m going to ask him what’s on his key ring or his belt. “Doors will be closing shortly” says the conductor and the train is off. I am successfully debriefed from my hard day. When I leave tonight on the 10:05 bus, I carry one thing with me: a glass coffee mug with a red freight train and the words Santa Fe emblazoned on the side with a mountain in the background. Finally I’ve broken down and bought something from the café that isn’t a wooden whistle. It is a nice cup, says one of the fans, and I plan to enjoy it. The train station has saved my sanity again. Leaving on a Train Tuesday Chris and I stand by the tracks, listening to the radio, waiting for trains, or enjoying the evening. An Amtrak train pulls up and a conductor asks if “you folks” are getting on the train. “No,” I say, “we’re just hanging out with the trains.” It’s fun to hang out with the trains. Tonight we’re not leaving on the trains, we’re just being with them. The Shortest night A couple of essays ago I entitled a segment The Longest Night. It was aout Rob Sanchez losing sleep after hitting the pedestrian on September 2. On Tuesday, last night, I spend my shortest night at the train station. A cold, sharp wind cuts through my black pants and green shirt. The cheeseburger is yummy and the Diet pepsi seems incredibly strong. There are a few passenger trains and two freight trains. The second one screams through the station, shaking the patio. It is a long one. But tonight it is cold. Larry is there and if anyone else is there they are inside. If they’re inside they are warm because the wind tonight even drives me away early. However, it doesn’t mean that the trip there is any less rewarding. I don’t’ see the usual crew there tonight, except Jose, and Christina, but I am glad I’m here. A couple sits down and explains that they’ve been invited to a bible study hosted by East Side Church. It is a quiet night but that’s the most interesting thing about this place: every visit is different and has its own personality. The End of the Line for Now Now you’re caught up. The train station has become a fixture in my own life. I’m known by name there by those who frequent it during the week. I haven’t spent too much time there on the weekends but I will soon enough. I’m glad I live in a city that has such a unique train station. A man woke up one morning and sent ninety-five text messages. His Metrolink train slammed into a freight train and now his picture hangs on my office wall by the computer. His eyes smile down on someone he never met but who fell in love with trains and now I’m introducing others to this place. Am I a natural recruiter? I don’t’ try to be, I just introduce people naturally to things that interest me. I’m interested in a lot of things and now I’m on the road to being more interested in the rails. On May 9 2009 we celebrate the second annual National train Day. I intend to be there at Union station on that day and yes I may even meet another train engineer. I’m going to ask about the bells. Maybe I’ll ask if I can go into a locomotive. I need to go into one so I can write my story. If I don’t’ go into the locomotive at least I can shake the hand of someone who operates one. That’s half the fun. And then I’ll go back to Fullerton and meet more people and write more stories about the Fullerton train station. Now if we could get my cats to lie by the railroad tracks! That will never happen!
Copyright © 2009 Shelley J Alongi |