Is anyone out there old enough to have worked with Ray Stuart and remember it?
Stutterin' Stu, as he was known, had problems that went beyond his speech
differences. While he had some difficulty communicating verbally a more and
pronounced handicap became known to me after I had spent several days working
with him. As the "new kid on the block" I fell heir to all the jobs that older
guys didn't want. This, of course, was the way railroading went and, for that
matter, still goes.
After finally figuring out where LaSalle was I went to the depot to see who I
was working with. Stu was the Engineer and Razzi Long was the Foreman. I, of
course, was the Fireman.
The switch chores consisted of the usual yard work, making up 86's train and
Marquette Cement. My extracurricular duties included, among other things,
obtaining White Owl cigars for Stu who ATE them as opposed to the more
conventional method of smoking them. He would remove the cellophane, make an
occasional pass with a match and then settle down and began chewing them. After
gnawing on a cigar for awhile the critter begans to come unwrapped and little
pieces of tobacco need to be removed from the chewers mouth. Stu wore WHITE
cotton gloves and, after extricating just so much damp tobacco, the gloves took
on a "less than white" appearance. The shreds of tobacco were dislodged from
the gloves by flicking the fingers. These "flicking fingers" resulted in the
entire right side of the cab being "decorated" with these little shreds of
tobacco. After one or two weeks of this finger flickin' you can probably
visualize what the right side would look like. You're right!!!
After procuring a few cigars we began switching one morning. I had noticed that
some joints (couplings) were normal and some not so "normal". Just as we were
about to make one of the "not so normal" joints I began to notice a particular
habit displayed by Stu. Right before impact he would repeatedly and violently
cycle the engine brake on and off and, at the same time, tap his left foot
rapidly. CRASH!!! After recognizing the "signs" I became more adept at assuming
the "crash position" BEFORE the actual collision occured. This activity
happened several times every day but, today seemed much worse. After my grip
got launched from its resting place for the second time I relocated it to a
place of greater safety.
Anyway, we finally made it to "beans" and tied up for awhile. The effects of
"shell shock" must have been noticeable to Razzi because, after our spaghetti
dinner at the 101 Club, he aske me "hey kid (I was one, once), do ya know hand
signs?" I replied that I had a rudimentary grasp of the "language" but just
don't get too fancy. "OK, we'll work on your side and you can holler over to
Stu what we want. He can hear alright, he just can't see too damn good." Very
inspiring conversation.
As it turns out ol' Stu was afflicted with "floating cataracts" and, while they
were "floating", his abilty to judge distance was temporarily disabled. After
an understanding was reached we did our work in a much gentler manner for which
the Switchmen were eternally grateful.
There's more "Stu Stories", be patient.
Karl
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