Confessions of a Railroad Signalman/Chapter 1
CONFESSIONS OF A RAILROAD SIGNALMAN
I
A RAILROAD MAN TO RAILROAD MEN
Considering the nature and intent of the following essays on the safety problem on American railroads, some kind of a foreword will not be out of place. As much as possible I wish to make this foreword a personal presentation of the subject. But in order to do this in a satisfactory manner, it will be necessary to take a preliminary survey of the situation and of the topics in which we, as railroad employees, are all personally interested.
In the industrial world of to-day, the railroad man occupies a position altogether different from the ordinary run of workers in factories or machine shops. On account of the nature and importance of our calling we are constantly in the public eye. By way of encouragement and as an incentive to good service, public opinion accords to us certain distinctive privileges. That there may be no excuse for laxity of conduct or inefficiency of service, we are looked upon in many ways as wards of the state and the nation. Not only are the hardships we endure and the dangers we are called upon to face matters in which the public is profoundly interested, but all details relating to our wages and to our treatment by railroad corporations have always been considered by the American people as topics in the discussion of which they are at all times intimately concerned.
Glancing backward at the history of railroad life in America, it is easy to perceive that this public sympathy and encouragement has been the strong right arm that has supported the railroad employee in a long-drawn-out struggle for the bettering of his social and financial condition. In some directions and in some branches of the service, the issues at stake have been bitterly contested, but the final results are probably unexampled among the successful achievements of organized labor. Not only numerically and financially, but also as regards the intelligence and education of its units, the railroad service to-day stands in the foremost position among the great industrial institutions of the country.
The nature of the service we railroad men render to the public in return for these benefits is most important, and, under present conditions, extremely dangerous. Some idea of the hazardous nature of our occupation may be gathered from the facts that, in a single year, one employee in every 364 was killed, and one in every 22 was injured. In the ranks of engineers, firemen, conductors, and brakemen, one in every 123 was killed and one in every 10 was injured. This is about the average record of recent years. It means, of course, an appalling number of accidents, and these accidents are manifestly an eloquent reflection of the risks to which the traveling public is constantly exposed.
In many ways humanity is indebted to the railroad man to as great a degree as to the sailor. The latter, indeed, has greater hardships to endure; he is not nearly so well paid, and he has to submit to a much stricter code of discipline. But for some reason the railroad man has the more dangerous occupation, if one may judge from a comparison of the fatalities that occur at sea and on the rail. In a storm at sea, when battened down under closed hatches, with nothing to think about but the fury of the gale and our own helpless situation, we appreciate to the full our dependence upon the courage and watchfulness of the sailor. But the public does not consider a railroad man from quite the same viewpoint, for the reason, perhaps, that the unavoidable dangers on the rail are not to be compared with the ever-present peril that surrounds a ship in its battle with the elements. And yet when we come to compare actual results, that is, the statistics in regard to ship travel and train travel, one is quickly confronted with the conclusion that the public is fully as dependent for its safety upon the human elements of vigilance and consecration to duty in the one case as in the other.
Looking at our subject from the widest standpoint, however, it is evident that the dangers that threaten a passenger on the steam-cars are more numerous than the passenger himself has any idea of, and these dangers are very uncertain in their nature and difficult to guard against. Constant attention and supervision is being universally exercised by the railroad officials, for the purpose of reducing to a minimum the number of accidents that occur from defective equipment and the like; but the accidents caused by the personal neglect or carelessness of the individual employee is a branch of the subject that calls for a very different kind of investigation and treatment.
In order to get an intelligent and comprehensive idea of these railroad accidents, both avoidable and unavoidable, the National Government has directed and empowered the Interstate Commerce Commission to secure and to publish statistics on the subject. In this way, for a number of years, the public has been kept informed in regard to all casualties of whatever nature that take place on our railroads. But right here the work and influence of the National and State Commissions, as well as of all railroad managers and individual investigators into the personal side of the problem, come to an end. Being in full possession and understanding of the actual results of our system of operating the railroad, the authorities seem disinclined to adopt any radical measures for the improvement of the service. In a report prepared for Congress some time ago, by the Interstate Commerce Commission, it was distinctly affirmed that these avoidable accidents are mostly due to the failure in duty of signalmen and enginemen.
“There is no escape from the conclusion that the block system is the best-known instrumentality for the prevention of collisions,” says the report, “notwithstanding the imperfections that have been shown in the results of its operations.”
According to the same report, during a given period, thirteen collisions occurred under the telegraph-block system, and all of these, so the commissioners say, were chargeable, not to the engineman, but to the telegraph operator. Yet in the same period seven collisions occurred on lines operated under the automatic block-signal system, where the telegraph operators are eliminated. These collisions were due to misconduct or neglect of enginemen. It is reasoned from this that the defect in the automatic block system is that the telegraph operator is not there to caution the engineman. The presence of a telegraph operator who attends the signal station serves as a caution to the engineman; whereas, when the telegrapher is not there, the engineman is in danger of failing to note the signal. In other words, the Commission finds the telegrapher left to himself is unreliable, and the same conclusion is arrived at in regard to the engineman and the automatic signals. According to the report, to obtain the desired security the best-known method is to rely upon the coöperation of these three acknowledged insecurities.
But apart from this consideration, the point for us railroad men to note is that we have been found directly and personally responsible for the accidents. Our failure in duty has been the actual cause for the loss of life resulting from these collisions. To say the least, these failures in duty are very numerous, and the authorities who are depended upon to look into these matters are of opinion that “the block-signal system is the best-known instrumentality for the prevention of” these accidents. But, unfortunately, a great many years must elapse before the railroads, both single and double track, can be thoroughly equipped with these signals, and meanwhile the public must remain at the mercy of these failures in duty which in the main, some day, block signals are expected to eliminate.
Working along these lines, however, the progress made by the authorities in eliminating the causes of these accidents and in improving the conditions has so far been very insignificant. There seems to be an inclination in all quarters to let things run their natural course, and to wait for the time when these accidents shall have become mechanically impossible.
But the writer of this book has very different ideas on the subject. He has studied the actual results that have been obtained from these block-signal systems, and at the same time he has paid particular attention to the behavior and responsibility of the men in regard to these accidents. The study referred to has not been a matter of a month or two, but of many years. For unknown reasons some of my critics have seen fit to question the nature of my experience as a railroad man. Fortunately it is an easy matter to give an account of my qualifications. The mere fact that one has had a varied and lifelong experience as an engineman or a conductor would be only partially significant. But a man who has been a telegraph operator and towerman for twenty-seven years and part of the time chief clerk to a railroad superintendent has certainly some claims to an all-round knowledge of his subject. The extent of the territory covered by this experience is even wider than one would suppose. For a telegraph operator is, of necessity, one of the best-posted men in the service. He has occasion to observe, and he is more or less obliged to understand, nearly every move that an engineman, conductor, or brakeman has occasion to make in the routine of his work. He has every opportunity to observe just how trainmen of all classes obey the rules and the signals. Add to this opportunity to become conversant with the practical side of railroad life, the knowledge that is derived from attending to the correspondence of a superintendent and the general work of the office. This includes supervision of pay-rolls, the hiring and examination of men, the investigation of accidents, the tracing of trouble of every description, and the handling and movements of both freight and passenger trains. In a general way this has been the nature of my experience, which I think has been eminently practical and not “academic.” Consequently, although some of my statements and conclusions may be questioned by railroad men who have had equal or greater experience, I nevertheless think that, in the interests of the public safety, I should be favored with a full and patient hearing.
Addressing the great body of American railroad men, I have no hesitation in saying that the service with which we are connected rests to-day under the shadow of a great shame. The situation cannot be looked upon in any other light, and it remains with us as a body, and as individuals, to apply the remedy. In order that my standpoint and the reasons for my conclusion may be thoroughly understood, I think it will be profitable, as well as interesting, to give a short history of the personal investigation and study which, for many years, I have steadily pursued in the interests of better and safer railroad service.
Manifestly, in order to treat my subject in the widest and fairest manner, all sentimental or personal scruples must be thrown aside. In explaining my position I can in no way be a respecter of persons or traditions. To me the management of a railroad is merely part of the subject-matter which I am called upon to consider, and an organization of railroad men is nothing more or less, so far as my investigation is concerned, than a combination of units constituting a certain influence which I feel myself at perfect liberty to criticise in the interests of the larger social body represented by the traveling public. The death roll and the record of suffering in preventable accidents in the United States is justification, repeated a hundred times over, for any and every conceivable probe into personal conduct or the policy of organizations.
But in holding up the conduct of others to criticism, it is but reasonable that I should begin with my own conduct and work in the matter. By what methods and means, for example, have I arrived at the conclusion that on our railroads the interests of the community have become secondary to those of the employee and his organization? This, of course, must be looked upon as a very serious statement, and it certainly calls for the earnest consideration of intelligent railroad men. In order to understand the nature of my evidence on the subject, it will be necessary to go back with me to the time when my attention was first directed to railroad accidents.
In the year 1892 a very serious accident occurred near the signal tower where I was employed. Although I was not on duty at the time I was naturally very much interested in the case, and I paid particular attention to the evidence that was brought forward at the hearing in the effort that was made to hold an engineman responsible for the disaster.
A passenger train, standing at a “home signal,” which was set at danger, was telescoped from the rear by a freight train, running practically at full speed. About 1500 feet from the home signal a distant signal was located. This signal, in the cautionary position at the time, was a distinct notification to the freight engineman to proceed cautiously and to prepare to stop before arriving at the home signal. An additional reason for such caution arose from the fact that the night was dark and extremely foggy. The explanation of this accident was to me extremely simple. The signals were all right, and so were the rules for that matter; but, from one end of the road to the other, these distant signals were dead letters. In the daytime, with apparently a clear track, absolutely no significance was attached to them; consequently I was not surprised at this disaster in a fog. But the incident was brought home to me in such a dreadful way that it started a line of thought and an investigation into the safety problem on our railroads, that has lasted until to-day.
But once started in my study, there was no turning back. Within sight of the interlocking tower where I worked there was a freight yard of considerable dimensions; the main lines of the railroad ran through this yard, and cross-over switches connecting one side with the other were protected by what are called yard protection signals. These protection signals, which are located about 1200 feet from the cross-overs, must be thrown to the danger or stop position before the switches can be changed. Once in a while, however, I noticed that the signal in question was put up to danger after an engine had passed, which of course disclosed a very serious state of affairs, for the engine in question was almost certain to get into trouble at the cross-overs. Taking note of this danger, I called it to the attention of the management. The result was, a rule calling for flag protection as well as signal protection at this particular point, but no attention was paid to other yards on the system where the conditions were more or less similar. As a matter of fact, it was not until a serious wreck had occurred that a general rule on the subject was put into force. This rule ordered the employee, after he had placed the signal at the stop position, to wait a sufficient time to allow a train that might have passed the signal to arrive at the cross-overs and thus to proceed in safety.
Now I would like railroad men in general to pay particular attention to my criticism of their conduct in relation to this rule and to other illustrations that follow. Here is a necessary law, put into force by the management for the safety of travel and the good of the service. It is a direct appeal to the common sense and honor of employees. Nevertheless, in a short time after the order was issued, it was a dead letter. True, very frequently in clear weather the rule is absolutely unnecessary; but when the weather is foggy, or at places where there is a curve, the failure to observe the rule is liable to result in a wreck. In one month I was a witness to eighteen breaches of the rule on a single division of a railroad.
It must be understood that I am now describing my actual experience with men, management, and rules, and the reasons that induced me to follow the matter up and to inquire if the work I am describing can be termed typical of American railroads.
Of course, one of my first thoughts in regard to the non-observance of rules related to the lack of adequate supervision by the management. To me it seemed to be a remarkable fact that I could easily follow up the working of a rule and the behavior of the men in regard to it, but the management seldom did anything of the kind. In this way my field for investigation became wider and wider, and I quickly arrived at an idea of the seriousness of the situation, from the standpoint of the people who travel from place to place on the cars.
One day a conductor of a freight train came into my office and asked for a train order which, according to the rules, called for the signature of both engineman and conductor. After receiving the order by telegraph from the train dispatcher, I placed it on the desk ready for the signatures. A minute or two later, when I returned from some other work, I saw that the conductor had signed the order for himself and the engineman as well. I said to him, “That will never do. Not so long ago that trick killed three trainmen, wrecked two engines, and cost the company something like $50,000. You must go for your engineman.” “That’s a great note,” the conductor replied. “You mean to say you intend to make me walk half a mile and lose half an hour in order to get that signature; you are the first operator who ever picked me up in this way. Why, they do this thing right along up the road. If the dispatcher was making a meeting point it would be different, but it’s done every day in the case of a work train or a gravel train.” “That may be very true,” I replied, “but you can’t do it here; the engineman himself must sign the order.” Now this man was actually telling the truth, and in a very short time I had the proofs in my possession.
Railroad men who read these lines must remember that in those days I was simply collecting evidence in a fair and honorable way, for my own private purposes, that would enable me to assign some kind of reason or cause for the lamentable loss of life on American railroads. I found the railroad business wherever I went to be bristling with reasons, and the more I looked into the matter the greater became my astonishment.
It cannot be claimed that my illustrations apply to only one or two railroads, for an examination into these accidents, regardless of locality, will reveal the fact that almost without exception they have resulted from the disregard of rules that are practically similar in nature and intent on all railroads.
In those days, and to a great extent at the present time, railroads were equipped with fixed cautionary signals. On approaching such signals it became the duty of the engineman to run slowly and look out. I discovered, in fact it was a matter of common knowledge and remark, that not one man in fifty did anything of the kind, although accidents from the breach of this rule were of daily occurrence, and the lives of thousands of passengers and employees had already paid tribute to this disgraceful state of affairs. To my mind the personal nature of this general inefficiency was its remarkable feature. We railroad men were running the business, and the management and the public got it into their heads, in some way, that we were doing our duty. Unfortunately, with the facts before me, I was unable to console myself with any such delusion. The nature and variety of the incidents I was able to discover were most astonishing. While I certainly dislike to beat the air in this way with illustrations, the matter of our own personal conduct and our direct responsibility for these preventable accidents cannot be sufficiently emphasized. At any rate, the incidents I am describing must be taken as the incentive and inspiration I received for continued exertion.
Furthermore, railroad men are very well aware that my illustrations cannot be looked upon as ancient history. Those on the inside still hear of strange happenings from day to day. I think a chapter on narrow escapes would do us railroad men a power of good. It is surely by taking warning from them that disasters on the rail can be best avoided.
Not so long ago on a Western railroad, and about the same time on a New England railroad as well, passenger trains were run for miles on the wrong track against the traffic. This was done in broad daylight, without orders of any description. The mere possibility of such occurrences, involving trainmen from brakemen to enginemen, is almost unthinkable. With such mental and physical paralysis to guard against, of what avail are block signals or the best intentions of a management? The popular contention that these things occur only “in spots” is most harmful. If only he will do a little thinking, any railroad man in the country can study these so-called “spots” without wandering an inch from his own job. The accidents that are liable to occur when the responsibility can be divided between the rules and the management are as nothing compared to those that we railroad men initiate and blindly invite of our own accord. With all sincerity and candor I present a final illustration; not from the past, but from what is positively taking place at the present day.
As we all know, managers of American railroads have been wrestling with the “hot-box problem” for nearly half a century. The rules relating to the matter are and always have been unmistakable. “Take no chances. If necessary, set off the car.”
On June 17, 1908, a freight train, running fully thirty miles per hour, approached my signal tower with a clear right of way east-bound. At the same time an express passenger train, rushing at full speed west-bound, came in sight. From a distance of nearly half a mile I could see that a car on the freight train was enveloped in smoke and flame from a hot box. As an actual fact, the engineman, conductor, and brakemen were aware of it. A brakeman was on top of the car watching the trouble. But they were nearing the terminal, and on a parallel east-bound track there was a train that all hands were very anxious to pass by or “jump.” So, by common consent, they were taking the chance on the hot box, and the engineer “had her wide open.” As the freight approached the tower I could see the chips flying from the ties, which indicated that the melted journal had snapped in two. A few seconds later both east-and west-bound tracks were blocked with the twisted rails, broken ties, and derailed cars. The passenger train, consisting of sleepers and crowded coaches, escaped dashing into the wreck by a miracle,—that is, by a mere fraction of time.
This is but an incident in the history of taking chances. Concealed in it, however, is a personal lesson that vitally concerns every man in the service. Do we actually insist upon disaster such as threatened this passenger train before we can be persuaded to come to our senses? In this business of taking chances, which covers every branch of railroad service, both the traveling public and the railroad corporations are at our mercy. Through a long course of years, influence and discipline of all kinds have utterly failed to check it. It is useless to talk about “spots,” for most of us take chances systematically. In fact I don’t think the managements have any idea of the nature and extent of this evil, for the reason perhaps that they have made no special study of the subject nor watched for and made note of illustrations, as I have. One would think it would have occurred to some railroad manager to issue a general order, with a caption somewhat as follows: “Here is a list of twenty dangerous chances which some of you are in the habit of taking. For goodness’ sake, have a care!”
Here, and elsewhere in this volume, it seems to me that it is demonstrated, beyond possibility of question, that thousands of lives have been sacrificed by reason of the palpable neglect and inefficiency of certain railroad employees. It makes not a particle of difference whether we conclude to call these careless men a majority, a minority, or a scattered few. Fundamentally it is also quite a secondary consideration that rules and methods of management at times can be shown to be partially responsible for accidents that result from this in efficient service. For the time being also, let us forget that elsewhere I call attention to the conduct and influence of the railroad labor organizations as an important factor in the situation, and to the absolute necessity, under existing conditions, of governmental interference. Let us put aside all these considerations, and as thoughtful, well-intentioned railroad men ask ourselves if we are socially and morally interested in this safety problem on American railroads. Do we consider the matter important enough to give to it more than an occasional thought or passing comment? When the lives of our fellow employees, or of passengers, are sacrificed by reason of personal forgetfulness or negligence, have we, the principals, or at least those most nearly concerned in the accidents, any remarks to make or any suggestions to offer? For the future, as in the past, are we going to allow this business to drift? Are we all of the same opinion as the train-master who said to me: “What’s the use of writing up these matters? We always have had careless men. We can’t expect to get rid of them altogether. Like the poor, they are with us always.” This man forgot, as many of us are liable to forget, that “writing up,” as they call it, is the only known method in modern civilization by means of which enlightenment and education can be passed around and disseminated.
But let no one imagine that I have any unreasonable expectations as regards the improvement of conditions on our railroads. I fully recognize and make allowance for the difficulties connected with the problem and for the shortcomings of human nature, but at the same time I insist that if we only open our eyes to our personal responsibilities in the matter, and pay half as much attention to the public interests as we do to our own, an astonishing improvement in the service will immediately result. It is actually a matter of reasonable demonstration that at least seventy-five per cent of the casualties might be avoided by increase of interest on the part of the employee, and the earnest concentration of his best thought on the subject. This awakened interest, however, must not be a subordinate matter. It must be a consecration apart from and above all questions of wages, discipline, or the interests of organized labor. There is no question in my mind as to the efficacy or wonder-working properties of the personal cure. The real question is, Are we big enough to undertake the job? If we continue to avoid the issue, and thus publish the fact that our social conscience is a blank, we may just as well write ourselves down as the most self-centred aggregation of individuals in the industrial world. It is ridiculous to suppose that conditions such as I describe in this book can be permitted to continue much longer. Sooner or later public opinion will be called upon to define, with no uncertain emphasis, just how far our private rights can be permitted to infringe upon our public duties.
But while our apathy in these matters must be evident to any thoughtful man, it will certainly add to the impressiveness of the situation if it can be shown that our conduct differs from, and is altogether less praiseworthy than that of other men and other organizations, under very similar conditions. Is it not remarkable that all over the United States, business and scientific associations should be actively bestirring themselves in regard to the railroad accidents?
The railroad labor organization alone is inactive and silent in the matter. The railroad business is a profession, in the operation of which there are certain features that threaten the public welfare. The business of a doctor or a surgeon is also a profession, in which there are many dangers and difficulties that also relate to the public health and safety. There is actually no more reason why surgeons should come together and consult for the good of humanity and the honor of their profession, than there is for railroad men to do so. As a matter of fact, every profession on earth is jealous of its good name, and plans early and late for the improvement of the service it is called upon to render to the public. In my opinion railroad men should be equally sensitive to the call of the social conscience.
Of course the discussion of these matters relating to the personality of railroad men, to be of any practical value, must be followed by action or experiment of some kind. Years ago, I proposed to the managements of several railroads that we, the men in the operating departments, should be invited to form a “Safety League.” I thought it would be a good idea to have a badge or button of some kind. There would then be no doubt in the public mind as to our interest in the problem. “Let us try the experiment,” I said. “We can at least show that there is one division of one railroad in the United States where the men have come together, talked over the difficulties, and determined to make an improvement in the records.”
But it was pointed out to me that the one great objection to the plan was the fact that leaders of our organizations would immediately veto anything of the kind. They have always frowned upon any such democratic relationship between men and management, such as a Safety League would initiate. It is doubtful, however, if these objections would stand a little public investigation and pressure, and therefore I think the present is an opportune moment to revive the proposition. There would be no chance for friction between labor men and management in the efforts of the League to improve the service. The main object of the League would be to arouse our interest and concentrate our attention upon the routine of our daily work, into which certain factors that imperil the safety of travel have been allowed to enter. We railroad men are still too human to render the best service without a certain amount of emulation and encouragement. A Safety League could be depended upon to furnish this much-needed stimulus. If managers and labor leaders would come out in the open, in the way I have indicated, and let the public see by this practical demonstration of their interest that they are thoroughly in earnest, I am sure they would find the employees ready and willing to second their efforts. That a Safety League among American railroad men would be worth the candle can be thoroughly comprehended if we give a moment’s attention to the endless string of fatalities and the millions in money losses that are now the recognized tribute that is being paid to these failures in duty.
For the rest, to the thoughtful railroad man, a final word remains to be said:—
In any comprehensive study of efficiency, prosperity is one of the most important factors to be considered. There is always an intimate relationship between struggle and efficiency. The general rule is from shirt-sleeves to shirt-sleeves, with prosperity as the halfway house. In all manner of human affairs it takes high moral exertion to stave off this fate. In the railroad business to-day the marked prosperity and power, political and otherwise, of the employee, is a positive menace to the safety of travel, on account of the lack of the moral safeguards to which I refer. This statement should not have an irritating effect upon railroad men; it should stimulate thought. The significance of the above conclusion is emphasized, from the fact that our labor leaders appear to be utterly unmindful of “the writing on the wall.” With shorter runs, increase of pay, larger personal privileges in every direction, and an ever-widening sphere of power and influence, a corresponding enlargement of our appreciation of our social and moral responsibilities is absolutely essential.
It is obvious, therefore, that the safety problem in regard to preventable accidents must depend to a great extent upon the thought which we are now willing to devote to it. What the managements of corporations and the public can do about it without our assistance can be judged from what they have been able to accomplish in the past. Up to date we railroad men have permitted our leaders to do all our thinking for us. This arises from the fact that we have never thought about or desired anything but material advantages; consequently labor leaders to-day are only too often a reflection of our material desires and of our lack of social responsibility. These men are good, bad, or indifferent, according to the returns we receive from them in cash. In this way they have been uniformly faithful to our interests. But we must not forget that we railroad men, millions of us, are part of the democratic fabric of the nation, and no democracy can possibly flourish upon purely materialistic principles.
The matters to which I direct attention in this volume call for the serious thought of employees, and let us take for our inspiration the truth that the democratic idea of government is itself founded upon the hope that every man will do his own thinking.