Here is another story to go with this photo. Folks who know Chris probably know him for his film work, but he also held a job on the CB&Q railroad in the summer of 1966. I tagged along as Chris worked at Galva, Barstow, and Moline, Illinois as a relief telegraph operator, substituting for the regular operators as they took their vacation time off. We would sit in the station at Galva, Chris would be in communication with the train dispatcher, and would write train orders and hand them up to passing trains using a hoop (actually, a Y-shaped device). The trains didn't stop, and it was Chris's duty to stand close to the tracks and hold the hoop in such a fashion that a crew member could reach out of the passing train and grab the orders. This would happen twice per train, the locomotive crew and the conductor behind would both need to grab orders, so Chris had to throw the first hoop aside after the first set of orders were picked up and get the second hoop into position. This produced a lot of excitement in a short period of time, usually followed by a few hours of utter boredom as nothing happened until the next train passed. One of the interesting things we did to pass the time was to make wagers as to when the next milk can would explode. Local farmers would bring their milk to the station in Galva in those large cans that are now collectible antiques. If the farmer was late and missed the train, the cans would sit out in the sun most of the day. On a really hot day, the top would blow off a can from the pressure of heated milk, and the station and platform would be covered in some of the foulest smelling substance we ever experienced. It certainly wasn't milk when it erupted from the can. Just to survive, we hosed the mess down with water. When Chris was assigned to Galva, we would eat at the local diner. There we met two young women, and struck up an acquaintance. Although we were both 18 at the time, neither of us knew what to do next. Chris was more worldly, since he went to a co-ed high school. But I was in prep school at the time, studying to be a Benedictine Monk. That didn't pan out, but I didn't know it at the time of this photo. In fact, the few weeks spent with Chris on the railroad that summer probably changed the course of my life.

It is pictured in charge of the daily Train Number 6, 'The Thoroughbred', running between Chicago and Louisville, Kentucky. It is seen here at Pullman Junction, and if it is on schedule, it's a little after noon. It departed Louisville at 6:30 AM, and is due in at Dearborn Street Station at 1:05 PM. According to the June 1965 Official Guide, 'Monon Passenger Trains Are Completely Air-Conditioned", and feature Reclining Seat Coaches; sandwiches, coffee, and soft drinks served between Bloomington and Chicago'. The southbound train of the same name was Number 5, departing Chicago at 5:25 PM, arriving at Louisville at 2:10 AM, a 324 mile run. This paint scheme was called the 'Purdue' paint scheme, the same colors of the Purdue University football team.

Those were the GREAT days of RR'ing. as far as I'm concerned but the GN junk we were saddled with took some of the "joy" out of it. I can't recall the no. but one of those beasts, a GN F3A, nearly killed me on train 88 at Dugan X'ing. years ago. I witnessed, first hand and up close, a crankcase explosion that totally destroyed the prime mover and, very nearly, yours truly.