I remember a little-used passing track at mile post 15. It meandered away from the mainstem of the Tintic branch of the Oregon Short Line (OSL) railroad to skirt the edge of a wheat field and further on it wound back to connect with the main again. Between the main and passing tracks, about halfway along, stood a very leaky old water tank where the engines of eastbound trains always came to a stop to replenish their water supply before tackling the rising grade that lifted sharply after leaving the tank. To the right of the passing track going east,...

The first recollection that I have deals with the little town of Sandy, about twelve miles south of Salt Lake City. It was there that I first started my meager education. It was also there that I first fell in love. The object of my childish affection happened to be my school teacher. I have long since forgotten her name. But I well remember my anguish at the end of that first term of school when I realized that it would be a long time before I would be able to see her again. But I guess I was of...

It was during this time that I started selling newspapers. I had heard kids say that they could get two papers for five cents and sell them for a nickel apiece. I couldn’t believe this. Why would anyone give five cents for something that cost only half as much? The whole idea of profit didn’t make sense to me. When I got a nickel one afternoon I found my way up to the distributing office of theDeseret Evening News, right about where the Hotel Utah now stands. I bought two papers with my nickel. I was so surprised that...

The coal mines of Carbon county had enjoyed a good coal business during the winter. But now with the spring pushing its way into the calendar, coal orders were falling off. The dusty, crashing, loading tipples were slowing down. Mines which had worked five and six days a week were being reduced to a two or three day a week schedule. Miners were being laid off in increasing numbers. Every coal train that slugged its way up the winding canyon picked up these ex-miners. Some had saved their winter earnings and were going home. Others were just reaching out for...

It seemed that every day business was getting to be a little better. Engines were being pulled off the dead line and readied for service. New names were appearing on the fireman’s “extra board,” where they waited to be assigned jobs in order of seniority. Every day that I thought Old Man Roberts was in good humor I would remind him of my desire to go out firing.

One day I was going through the roundhouse on my rounds of duties. I saw Mr. Roberts talking with another man whom I afterward learned was Jack Snyder, the traveling engineer. When...

By now I was getting to be quite a fireman. For some months I had been working as a fireman, marked up on the board out of Salt Lake.

One day I was called for an extra west, going to Ogden. The master mechanic was a man named Powell. He was just about as ornery as any man I ever met. He and Jack Snyder, the traveling engineer, came alongside the engine when we were getting ready to leave for Ogden. He looked up in the cab and saw me, red bandanna, gauntleted gloves, cap, watch, chain, and all. He...

An engineer whom I respected was Toby Sheldahl. I came in off the Bingham Branch, where I had been working for a while, when I got married. Business was booming, and I landed in the mainline pool. This “pool board” consisted of mainline freight crews, working first in, first out. All the engines—mostly eleven hundreds—were pooled as well. No one in the pool had a regular engine.

Lots of new men were hired—students as well as experienced men. It seemed that Toby had been plagued with students. On my first trip with him he learned that I...

The wind blustered against the back curtain, and it sneaked with stinging fury in under it where its length was just short of reaching the deck. The old fellow stood facing the open fire door, his back against the flapping curtain. His hands were sunk deep in the side pockets of a dilapidated old overcoat that he huddled in to keep out the weather. At best it only partially protected him from the cold. He was almost hidden in its many folds. Being much too large it reached almost to the shoddy footwear that encased his feet.

He was quite...

The town of Tucker imprinted itself deeply in my memory, although I only actually worked out of there not more than one week. It was a station on the pioneer Utah and Pleasant Valley narrow gauge railroad that ran from Provo to the coal fields in and around what later came to be known as Scofield. At Tucker the primitive tracks followed the South Fork of the canyon and through a series of switchbacks crossed the spine of the Wasatch somewhat south of Soldier Summit.

When the Rio Grande came through in the eighties they purchased this early railroad and...

Astrange thing to me is the seeming fact that a man always holds fond memories of his days on the Rio Grande. I have seen this demonstrated time and time again. It’s the same with me now. I still consider myself a Rio Grande man. But since the steam locomotive has gone out and the diesels have come in, the Rio Grande, and all the other railroads, seem to have lost their glamor.

I would love to stand once again at the depot at Helper in the early morning and see no. 1 come into town off the eastern...

When I look back through the years, I truly believe someone up there must have been guiding me. Someone up there must have been watching over me and directing my movements. When I think of the many slight incidents or variations in timing or setting that have meant the difference of life or death to me, I sometimes marvel!

There was the time when I was a very young fireman and was firing an eastbound drag. We were in two reverse curves between Mill Fork and Tucker. It was in the small hours of the morning and Goose Neck Johnson,...

It was not uncommon for a man to be approached by slickers, who for a few dollars would furnish a certificate declaring that the bearer had passed the mechanical examination for locomotive engineer on some little-heard-of railroad. If a man could appear at some master mechanic’s office on a railroad that had a sudden increase in traffic and was in great need of enginemen, the theory was that he would be hired with very little in the form of examination. The important thing was being able to show that you were experienced.

I had a man follow me from the...

Joe Stevenson, in charge of the Bingham branch, came out to Cuprum to speak in glowing terms of the jobs for enginemen on the Utah Railway, soon to begin operation out of Provo. He told of the fine big new engines that would handle the trains, and of how they would have rights over the trains of the Rio Grande on the joint track. He made those jobs sound very good, especially to a young man on the extra board.

Finally I said, “Joe, are you going over to the Utah?”

He was tamping tobacco into his pipe at the...

The Utah Railway officially started operation on December 1, 1917. Until about the summer of 1931 we were continually growing and getting bigger, handling more and more tonnage. During these years the Wattis Branch was built, then the Spring Canyon Branch. We also had a spur leading off the Rio Grande mainline just below Castle Gate which crossed the Price River to the United States Fuel Panther mine. It was after much agitation and argument with the Rio Grande that the three mining companies, Standard, Spring Canyon, and Peerless, built the Spring Canyon Branch. Then about 1926 the National Branch...