| All- While Maxwell Street wasn’t a trendy neighborhood (well, it was based on the way most of Chicago has turned out) “skid row” was IIRC West Madison Street where all the rescue missions were.... Charlie Vlk On Dec 4, 2020, at 5:59 PM, Louis Zadnichek via groups.io <LZadnichek=aol.com@groups.io> wrote:
December 4, 2020
Leo - Well, that would make for an entertaining story. It'd be heavy on Maxwell Street (skid row in Chicago) characters from a 19-year-old's perspective, weak on MOW nuts-and-bolts specifics with scary reminiscences about riding totally dilapidated turn-of-the-century passenger cars later downgraded to camp car status. However, I still owe Dave the story about my Dad's career in the operating department. A couple of years ago, you found some Brotherhood of Trainmen correspondence pertaining to him. With the wide variety of retired Q employees on this list, I'm a little surprised that we don't have a road master or division engineer to tell us how MOW repairs were "really done." You're right, that's a subject which needs covering - Louis
Louis Zadnichek II
Fairhope, AL
In a message dated 12/4/2020 5:19:01 PM Central Standard Time, qutlx1=aol.com@groups.io writes:
Ok Louis,now you have to write a Bulletin article in that summers experience and characters. The whole concept of maintenance of way has never been explored in. Bulletin. You write up your memories and I have no doubt Dave will find visuals to go with the text. I’ll also bet the BRHS archive has some interesting documents on the track department.
Leo
On Dec 4, 2020, at 4:46 PM, Louis Zadnichek via groups.io <LZadnichek=aol.com@groups.io> wrote:
December 4, 2020
Jack - I got to thinking about this and I've got the year wrong. It would've been the summer of 1964 when I was age 18 having just graduated from Downers Grove (North) High School. All this time later, the years blend together.
The following summer of 1965, I worked on a steel gang as a track equipment operator. We spent part of the summer in and around East Winona, WI, repairing tracks damaged earlier that spring by the Great Mississippi River Flood.
Then the gang moved to Brookfield, MO, and Beardstown, IL. I lived in an old camp car and rubbed shoulders with the finest gandy dancers that Maxwell Street in Chicago could provide.... I have lots of memories of that summer, too - Louis
Louis Zadnichek II
Fairhope, AL
In a message dated 12/4/2020 3:52:32 PM Central Standard Time, lzadnichek@aol.com writes:
December 4, 2020
Jack - You mean Gene "Craven" who was a friend of my father M.L. Zadnichek who was Chicago Division Superintendent at the time. I worked in the passenger department (can't remember which floor) the summer of 1965 when I was age 19. I sat at a long green bench bathed in sun light and audited tickets collected by conductors on the few remaining main line passenger trains of that era. My tally had to match the conductor's report submitted. It was an interesting job.
I also compared the tickets against reports made by "secret passengers" who occasionally rode the trains, purchased their tickets on board with cash and tried to trick the conductor with making change and other ruses to see how efficient and friendly they were under stress. I'd have to find their ticket that the conductor had sold and collected to match it against the stub submitted with their report to made sure they had really been on the train in the first place. Everything got checked.
The "secret passenger" reports were always good reading. I wonder today if the "secret passenger" got paid by the word as they could be very lengthy, full of details about the passengers that day, how sharply the conductor was dressed, if he had body odor or bad breath and what had been going on in the coach. If I remember correctly, I only came across one really negative report that I immediately gave to my supervisor. I don't know what happened to that conductor.
Some 55 years later, I can still "see" a lot of faces whom I worked with, but their names have long since escaped me. My Mom packed me a lunch every day, so I never left the building during the lunch hour. I ate my sandwich, read the Chicago Tribune and day dreamed out the window at the city skyline. Once in a while, I acted as the messenger boy and carried sealed envelopes (remember the BIG brown tie envelopes with multiple spaces for addresses) to other floors.
While carrying messages, I usually would take a detour to briefly visit with Al Rung who was director of public relations and also a friend of my Dad's. Al (well, Mr. Rung in those days....) got me interested in public relations and from that photography and journalism, professional skills that I have carried with me to this day. Plus, Al would almost always find the time to dig down in some overflowing file cabinet and pull out a couple of glossy 8x10 photographs to give me.
I do remember there was no air conditioning, at least on the floor I worked on and the ones I visited as a messenger boy. I, too, had a rock to keep paperwork from blowing away, as well as a glass jar for pins. You're right, I never saw a stabler, just pins and once in a while some big paper clips. I recall seeing the huge mechanical calculators, too, the older ones with hand cranks and the modern ones like the Friden illustration. Plus, every morning I had to wipe the soot off my bench.
One memory does stick in my mind. Although I packed my own lunch, I did once in awhile go down to the lobby during the lunch hour and "hang out" just outside the revolving front doors with the other young men to watch all the office girls parade by in their finest. There would be wolf whistles and all that in good, clean fun. The girls enjoyed it as much, if not more, than we did. But, all too soon, the lunch hour would be nearing its end and we all had to rush back to our offices.
Coming and going to work at 547 West Jackson Boulevard, I like many other employees commuted from the western suburbs on the suburban "dinkie" trains. I got on and off at Fairview Avenue in Downers Grove. If I remember correctly, it was about a 15 minute walk from home. Since the trains ran like clockwork and my Mom knew how long it took to walk home, she'd had a warm dinner waiting for me the minute I came through the door. All a long time ago - Louis
Louis Zadnichek II
Fairhope, AL
In a message dated 12/4/2020 2:02:11 PM Central Standard Time, jack@highlandwebworks.com writes:
Tom: I worked on the 8th floor of the white marble HQ in Chicago from June 1969 until March of 1970. I remember on my first day. I was handed a small stone and a dust rag. I was told that the rock was to keep the papers on my desk from blowing off when the windows were open, esp on a windy day. The rag was to wipe the soot off of my desk that blew in from the windows. I also remember the oak toilet seats and old wooden stalls! Some people I remember were Don Lamb, Al Rung, Ivan Ethington, Gene Carven, Gene Lacy, Roger Sperry, Art Pew and a many others. There were two phones on the floor of our Costs and Statistics office. One shared by seven of us, and one used by the office manager. When we needed to talk to someone in Fort Worth, we contacted the operator and ask for a line to Fort Worth. When a line opened up, she would ring us back with the Fort Worth connection. We didn't have paper staplers, we had pins for bind pages together. The were cheaper then staplers. My 'in basket' was full of capital budget requests with supporting papers all 'pined' together. It was a daily thing getting badly stuck by a pin. I also remember eating a Lou Mitchel's restaurant about a block west on Jackson. We made a visit there about two or three times a week. When the line to enter started to get long Lou, who always stood just inside the entrance, would shout to the customers "Don't any of you folks need to get back to work?". ![https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/shopping?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ08JvxNAtuO-diTY7_KWjpZRAXxqgFx2bUgDdBczEsPyLUYPAV_1Q6k2RHsfk&usqp=CAc]() I had a great big Friden calculator on my disk that I had to learn to use. Making it divide was a special feat! Another memory was when I needed to get the freight rate for a shipment. I went down to the 7th floor marketing, (I believe it was the 7th), and ask a man at the rate desk for the price. He opened up a document, make a note from it, then another and then a third rate document. He wrote down the rate $ 1.54. I was shocked that it took that much work to just get a rate. I was more shocked at the rate! "Oh that is per hundred rate" he said. I returned to the 8th floor asked what a 'per hundred rate' was and then told my story to my co-workers about needed three documents to get a rate. I pronounced that I was never going get near freight rates again as long as I worked for the RR. It was the computerization of railroad freight rates and rate distribution systems that was the core of my railroad work for the last 25+ years of my career. And I loved it. Jack Schroeder Hurst, TX
_._,_._,_
Groups.io Links: You receive all messages sent to this group. View/Reply Online (#60897) | Reply To Group | Reply To Sender | Mute This Topic | New Topic
Your Subscription | Contact Group Owner | Unsubscribe [archives@nauer.org]
_._,_._,_
|