A Question Regarding Coal Burning Steam Engines

YEAH, I was there many times. There's nothing like that stack talking to you on a heavy grade. Sometimes it gets a little loud, going through a tunnel, though.

 

Boxcab has asked for a story or two. I got to reminiscing, today, with a neighbor, and he asked a question about mainline work.It seems like one question always leads to another, but I'll answer this one first. He asked if I ever felt like a sitting duck, as we progressed over the road? I told him I've had dirt clods, rocks and a few other things thrown at me, Even was shot at one time. Cruising along one evening, as we crossed over a long bridge, I heard what I thought was a set of topedos. I had the window half closed.As I was reducing my speed, I noticed 2 bullet holes in the window.Someone in the riverbed must have figured I was fair game. Talk about being a sitting duck. I'll come up with another story in a day or two, Boxcab.

 

I had a sudden realization when at 45 miles an hour it dawned on me that here is my momma's boy hurtling down a grade with several thousand tons behind me, and I am depending on two little flanges only an inch wide to keep me on this track!

That was a frightening run the rest of the way!

It was also my last too.

 

Watash,
In the days I worked the mainline, I handled many controled runaways down Cajon Pass. There were lots of trips where you lost the dynamic on a unit or two. When the company started to send boys out to do a mans job, I figured it was time for me to bid in a local.

 

You got that right! Now they even have young girls runnin' 'em! Can you see one look'n for the cruise control so she can put her make up on? Sheesh!

 

Say,Watash, Your age should qualify you to understand this latest memory. I'm sure some of the younger rails won't, because a lot of them hadn't been born yet. I hired out in April, 1941, was married and had one child, so I wasn't included in the first one or two drafts into the military. I was firing a midnight goat for $6.19 a day. An engineer was making $9.32 on a yard job. As business rapidly picked up, due to WW2, I was able to bid in a through freight job, Los Angeles to Yermo, Ca. a 161 mile subdivision. There were so many trains running, that many didn't make it to Yermo on the 16 hour law. On one trip, due to the shortage of helper power, we were instructed to reduce tonnage and tackle Cajon Pass single. A 25 mile grade to Summit, took us 7 hours,having to double the hill. Needless to say, we had to be dog caught that trip. More memories coming up.

 

Amateur Firemen

Black smoke is unburned carbon, and means amateurish, sloppy firing and wasted fuel. In the steam days, posters in the crew locker rooms would remind crews: “Don’t Waste Fuel” and “Keep a Clean Fire” and housewives would complain when their laundry would get sooty. Pollution has always been a concern. Publicity photos of engines at speed would try to show the cleanest fire to the public and the shareholders, sometimes only a wisp of smoke, and less than many Diesels. Modern steam operations should follow the example once set by the efficient operational practices of the Real Railroads. This would show that steam power, even today, deserves a place on our Railroads. Heilung

 

Too bad shes not in service anymoreI got to see her in Chattanooga in 1993 with 611, the 1522 was one of the loudest stack talking steamers that I have ever seen and heard:thumbs_up:

 

My sentiments, exactly. Just a slight color in the stack indicates the hottest fire you're going to get. Of course, you've got to have the proper drafting.

 

When the engineer was working the engine hard it
was a joint effort when he started easing off on a coal fired engine.The fireman watched the engineer and when he reached up for the throttle
you started easing off on the stoker. After an adjustment on the throttle he would start hooking up the engine as the speed increased.This gave you time to adjust your firing to the working of the engine.As far as a clear stack with a steam engine, reguardless of how good a fire you had
there was always a slight amount of smoke unless the stoker was shut off.When I first started we were running about 55-60 mph and I could not keep up the steam.Looking in the fire box I could not tell anything.Asking the engineer what he thought
he took a look. You are not putting enough coal
in.But it makes much smoke was my answer.But look at the coal it is so fine it is burning above the grates . The answer is is to put in enough to
make it stay on the grates. This I did and the smoke had to roll in order to keep steam. LEW

 

Lew,

Of course it was a joint effort between the fireman and engineer on an oil fired engine, too. Nobody wanted to eat a lot of smoke. Working with a regular hoghead, you knew what he was going to do. I remember several extra men that rode with their hand on the throttle and they wouldn't even holler, or check to see if you were watching them. Working with them, you'd better get used to the taste of smoke

 

Now this is embarrassing, so don't tell anyone, but maybe you had a similar experience when you first started out.

Dad had arranged for me to ride in the cab of a new 4-8-8-4 when I was 11 in 1941, and I got to toot the whistle, but what I am about to tell, was the first time I had my hand on the throttle of a 'live' engine under steam.

When I was 13, riding my bike down to the Abilene Southern shed one night to watch the hostler get the engine ready for its run the next morning, I ask him if I could help in some way instead of just watching him work.

I had watched him move the 2-8-2 around for several weeks, so he knew me by sight, but I had always kept out of his way. Occasionally he would invite me to ride in the cab with him, so I had paid close attention to what all he did to make it 'go',
(but I didn't see what he did to make it 'stop').

So, I ask him this night if I could help, and this time he said, "Well, you could run her up here and stop when I tell you to, and you can help me fill the tender with water."

I started climbing up into the cab! (Now, I think he was just joking with me.)

Leaning out the window, I didn't see him down there.

He startled me by standing right behind me, saying, "So you think you know how to run it up there?" (about the length of the engine.) I said I sure did, I had watched him enough, so he said, "OK try it."

I jerked the throttle back about 1/4 of the way, for less than half a second, then shut it off. During this instant, he almost had a heart attack, and had grabbed the throttle just as I got it to the 'off' position! (Scared me too! I think he may have grabbed the Johnson bar first and moved it forward a bit.)

He went ballistic! "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?"
I told him I was filling the steam chest, and going to ride the expansion for such a short distance.

He calmed down, thought a second or two, and said, "I guess you do know how to run a steamer. OK, you stop when I drop my hands and I'll throw a chain around a wheel to hold her in place. Then he pointed to a small brass handle, (I had not seen him use before), and said, "This is the brake" , and went down to the ground.

He motioned for me to move toward him, so I pulled the throttle out a few notches, maybe 4 or 5, and the engine began to very slowly creep foreword. He grinned wide and motioned for me to continue, as he picked up one end of a heavy log chain laying on the ground.

He let the first and second driver go by him then suddenly dropped his hands, and I shut off the throttle and jerked the little brass handle full 'on' toward me, and leaned out to watch him.

He threw the chain around the wheel and stepped back. The engine wheel ran up against the big chain link, then continued climbing right on up and over it! I wasn't stopping!

I panicked, and yelled "The brakes aren't working!"

He came running, climbed up, and pulled the Johnson bar back to dead center, shut the throttle full off, just as the next driver was going over the chain, and shut off the brake, then glared at me.

He yelled, "You didn't center the valves to stop her, and I thought you said you knew how to run a steamer! Get out of my cab!"

I ran, and pedaled like mad getting home! Dad told me I didn't pay attention, because I should have known to center the valves would stop quicker than the brakes! Besides all the brakes would do is hold it in place so it didn't roll away while we were up on the tender.

Dad told me what I should have done was to inch the Johnson bar foreword a notch or so until it started rolling, and leave the throttle alone! With steam pressure in the chest, the engine would have planted its self and grown roots if I centered the valves by centering the Johnson bar! So I learned that lesson.

Dad drove me back to the shed to see if the hostler might need some help if the engine had run off on the ground. The hostler was furious, but admitted he had not mentioned how he wanted me to stop the engine, and that he should never have left me alone in the engine. The engine wasn't hurt, and had a full tender. All was OK, but that almost ended my railroad career.

Dad sent me to work the summer harvest at my grandfather's farm, where we met a man who worked at the roundhouse in El Reno, Oklahoma, and I got a job as a 'Gopher' with him for the rest of that summer. That was a real thrill, and I learned a lot. I was able to work there again the next summer, then went off to Boarding School.

By then, the 'bug' had bitten me hard!
For awhile during the war, I got to work for the DK&S on a student work permit.

My Dad had other ideas for my career. I would become an engineer, later on, but not that kind!)

 

Hostler was a Jerk

It wasn't your fault, so you dont need to feel at all guilty. The hostler should never have let you touch anything in the cab without careful instruction, and step by step practice. He put his own life in danger, and maybe others too. Not to mention allowing a kid to possibly run through an open switch - or a turntable pit.

 

Great story! :shade: This section above made me laugh.

I agree, though. That hostler was reckless. He should have known better. Maybe it gives you some indication as to why he was just a hostler and not out on the main.

I'm impressed that you knew as much as you did at that age. :teeth:

 

All right, you guys. The Ol' Hoghead has another story to tell.
In my firing days, I worked some good engineers,also a few bad ones. Before I went running, I fired for several young engineers on through freight. One trip I remember well. Out of Yermo we had a mallet for power,equipped with an exhaust steam injector that wasted a lot of water. Delayed in the yard, and also in Barstow, I wanted to take more water, before we headed West. The young engineer didn't want to, saying we had plenty of water to make Victorville, the regular water stop. Leaving Barstow, we had orders to clear a hot mail train at Helendale. Fortunately, there is a water plug there. As we headed in the pass, the injector broke ( indicating we were out of water). As we waited for the mail train, water disappeared in the glass. I finally put the fire out. After the mail train went by, we cut the engine off, ran back down the main to the water plug. While taking water, I put the injector back on and as the water again showed in the glass, I put a fire back in her. Later, as we started down Cajon Pass, this young engineer tried to work a drifting throttle down the mountain. I talked him out of that. Heading in at Ono,for a passenger train, he let the train rag on him. Not being familiar with the siding, he ended up having to go to emergency and ended up fouling the main. He also got a knuckle, near the rear of the train. We had to double the engine and the head 6 cars onto a spur track. After all that, I crossed my fingers and hung on. Most trips were better than that, THANK GOODNESS.