Part 6

“To make an effort to reduce injuries and accidents to the lowest possible minimum, the company has felt justified in creating an office to handle in a systematic manner the question of preventing accidents and injuries. Great and astonishing results can be obtained along these lines by constant attention and earnest work on the part of the person in charge of this office, and by securing the coöperation of all employees and the assistance of the heads of the different departments. It is, therefore, very necessary that the ‘_safety officer_’ be as thoroughly acquainted as possible with all the men over the entire system, and personally call their attention to the importance of lending their assistance to this cause.”

In contrast to the personal attention that is paid to the human element on the Santa Fé, let us glance at the methods pursued on railroads in the East. You will find in our railroad offices an exact record and working history of every piece of equipment, from a spike to a locomotive. Every draw-bar, every coupler, every passenger coach, and practically every engine-tire has to give an account of itself. The performances of these “parts” are carefully scrutinized and watched. You will be shown all sorts of diagrams, charts, and volumes of statistics going to show the care and expense devoted to equipment and machinery. But if you happen to ask for a few human statistics you are likely to be disappointed. For instance, if a certain train crew runs a freight train two hundred times in a year, breaking seventy draw-bars and upon different occasions delaying thirty-seven passenger trains, and another crew under very similar conditions pulls out only thirteen draw-bars and delays only nine passenger trains, you may consider the records quite important; but in the railroad offices you will find no statistics of this nature, no comparative statements and diagrams illustrative of the workmanship and character of different men and of the value and significance of the human element in the running of a railroad. In a word, you will infer from your investigation that if it isn’t a machine or a piece of machinery it isn’t worth bothering about.

Finally, let us take a very significant illustration, in which the traveling public should be somewhat interested. The other day a through passenger train arrived at a junction in the western part of Massachusetts. It was on its way east, and was practically on time. But at this point it became necessary for the engineman to renew the water-supply. Consequently he cut off his engine and ran down some little distance to the water-stand. After an interval of twenty minutes, as the engine had not returned to the train, the station-master went down to investigate the delay. He found the engineman and fireman sitting quietly in the cab waiting for a brakeman to come and turn on the water. It was some brakeman’s duty to do this work at this point, and as he failed to appear, business came to a standstill. The engineman knew his rights and stuck to them. The idea of loyalty to the interests of the corporation and the public could not be permitted to enter into the question, for the reason that to do another man’s work, even in a case of emergency, would be to surrender rights and privileges which had been fought for and secured after months of agitation and diplomacy. The train was thirty minutes late at its destination. In such cases the management is helpless.

It matters little that my illustrations may be criticised as uncommon occurrences. The principle that tolerates the situation is surely out of place on a railroad. By way of contrast, the following item taken from the merit list on the Santa Fé Railroad is both interesting and significant:--

“J. E. Helms, Engineer, and M. C. Collins, Fireman, ten merit marks for coaling up engine 1029 when the coal chute was out of service.”

Strange as the statement may seem at first sight, we railroad people at the present day are suffering from a very peculiar form of mental blindness. Perhaps the point will be more comprehensible if we call it “department paralysis.” Our vision seems to be strictly limited to our own departments or spheres of action. In this way every department on a railroad is loyal to itself and more or less forgetful of the other departments. For example, the operating department is responsible for the care and prompt movement of trains. In a general way it is taken for granted that these movements must be made with safety as well as dispatch. And yet, looking into the matter closely, we are able to discover that dispatch and not safety is the main feature and business. Unfortunately there is no safety department on a railroad, or rather safety takes pot-luck in all the departments. Altogether, safety finds it no easy matter to secure recognition, and city governments, railroad commissioners, and railroad officials all seem to suffer from department paralysis upon occasions when loyalty to the interests of the traveling public would seem to demand a much clearer and wider vision. To all appearances it is impossible for these departments to see beyond the precincts of their own particular hobby or vocation. Let us take a very pertinent illustration:--

The other day, in the vicinity of Boston, several teams were smashed and two persons were killed at a well-known and very dangerous crossing. It being Christmas time, there had been an almost continuous procession of vehicles all day long over the crossing. At a moment when perhaps the crush was greatest, the gong in the gate-house gave warning that an express train was approaching. Immediately there ensued a wild scramble to hustle the stream of humanity over the crossing and out of the way of the train. It was no easy task for the gateman. Regardless of the descending gates, a number of teams, unable to turn aside, made a final dash to get to the other side. To drop the gates on the backs of the horses was out of the question, and, as a last resort, frantic yet useless attempts were made to flag the approaching train. In the midst of the excitement the flyer dashed upon the scene with disastrous results.

The following day the accident was thoroughly and fearlessly discussed in the newspapers. There was no difference of opinion on the subject. Practically speaking, every one representing the state, the city, the railroad, and the newspapers, agreed to concentrate their minds on the grade-crossing problem. It should be abolished. This is the universal “hobby” and a good one, no doubt, but apparently no one can see an inch farther. The questions _why_ and _how_ people are killed almost every day at these crossings received no attention whatever. Public opinion, not unreasonably perhaps, is satisfied with the assurance that everything humanly and reasonably possible under the circumstances was done by the railroad men concerned in it to _get the teams out of the way of the trains_. But it did not occur to any one that the whole system of keeping teams out of the way of trains is inherently and inexcusably wrong. The list of victims who are sacrificed to this popular mistake is being added to daily. If the public has any right at all on these crossings, it goes without question that, while they are making use of their rights and in the act of crossing, their safety should depend, not upon their efforts to scramble out of the way of the trains, but upon the moral and legal obligation of the railroads _to keep the trains out of the way of the vehicles_.

This view, of course, is based on the supposition that the safety of the public is of more importance than the speed of the trains over these crossings. In the case we are now considering, if an empty coal car had been on the crossing it would have been amply protected from the passenger train. Not only is this true, but the tracks of another railroad cross this highway diagonally at this point, and while trains are crossing they are doubly protected by semaphore targets and derailing switches. Teams, however, and passengers on foot have to depend on emergency arrangements which, as we all know, are practically useless. If railroads can afford to protect their rolling-stock in the way described, the interests and property of the public might reasonably be expected to receive equal consideration. In plain language, the pressing of a button in crossing-houses, in connection with proper signals, would give the public the protection so urgently called for. Altogether the foregoing may be taken as a very good object lesson on the safety problem on our railroads.

This crossing accident took place in December, 1907. Within a mile of the scene, on the next crossing, in the month of July, 1908, another accident occurred under similar conditions. In this case a wagon was demolished, two horses were killed, and a number of passengers on an express train were injured. Comment is unnecessary.

For the rest, the interest and significance of this essay will be sadly misunderstood if the impression is in any way derived from it that the railroad employee is singled out and must stand alone as an object of adverse criticism. As a matter of fact, a volume can be written in our defense. Only too many of us can remember the time when a deserving employee could be, and frequently was, discharged on the flimsiest pretext. His breakfast disagreed with a yard-master or he happened to have domestic troubles on his mind: for less reason than this good men were sent packing. Not ten years ago the service on New England railroads swarmed with favorites and brothers-in-law. Faithful old employees were sent adrift without a moment’s warning or sympathy, to make room for youngsters with a “pull.” Many an honest old servitor, not so very long ago either, with justice and reason might have flung the retort of old Adam, in “As You Like It,” at his superior. “Is ‘old dog’ my reward? Most true, I have lost my teeth in your service.” But we have changed all that. Nevertheless, these things rankle. They say history repeats itself. Justice certainly does; and as for injustice it reacts and rebounds, and perhaps, after many days, it returns and demands a settlement at compound interest. The situation to-day between labor and capital is but a chapter in the natural history of the instinct of self-defense.

Finally, in regard to the lack of loyalty to the world at large, the railroad employee is far from being the only offender. While it may be said to be strictly unintentional, this lack of loyalty covers our railroads as with a blanket. The illustrations given above have been chosen with strict impartiality, and regardless of the personality of the offenders. With the panorama of railroad life before us, as I have endeavored to sketch it, we railroad men should be able to contemplate the conditions, and our conduct in relation to them, as in a looking-glass. While the writer’s sincere desire from beginning to end has been to avoid giving unnecessary offense to any one, yet it should not be forgotten that to take away life, either needlessly or heedlessly, on a railroad is an offense against society that calls for the utmost rigor of treatment.

V

THE SQUARE DEAL

In the days of the Roman Republic, when a consul was invested with supreme power, he received a caution or command somewhat as follows: “See to it that the Republic receives no injury.”

This injunction is quite as significant and important to-day, both to individuals and to public officials, as it was a thousand years ago. Then, as now, the interests of the community were the first and paramount consideration. But in discussing questions relating to these interests, such as, for instance, those which have arisen between labor and management on our railroads, public opinion, as represented by the press and the laws, should insist upon a fair field, no favor, and absolutely open play on all sides.

We need only glance at the safety problem on American railroads to appreciate it thoroughly. During 1907, on a single well-known railroad, thirty passengers were killed and 1596 injured; 572 trespassers killed and 526 injured; 72 people were killed at grade crossings and 518 injured; twelve contractor’s men were killed and ten injured; the total killed numbered 686, and the injured 2650. These figures are not inclusive of employees. The biggest single item of the year’s disaster for personal injuries fell under the head of collisions, 76 of them resulting in 456 claims, to the account of which the charge was $145,748. The total was 876 claims for personal injuries, costing $746,075, still leaving 2345 unsettled cases at the expiration of the year.

Some time ago, in the Chicago “Record-Herald,” E. P. Ripley, president of the Santa Fé system, was quoted as follows: “One of the most serious conditions which this country is facing to-day is the indifference and disregard which the employee has for the interests of the employer.”

“The Santa Fé,” continued Mr. Ripley, “hopes to establish a better _esprit de corps_ among its employees, and expects that a liberal pension system will have that tendency. We have on this system as much loyalty as most railroads enjoy, if not more, but it is not what it should be. The lack of loyalty among employees is a condition from which all corporations are now suffering, and it presents a most serious problem.”

It matters little to what railroad one turns for information on this subject, Mr. Ripley’s remarks, in a greater or less degree, apply to them all. Quite recently, in discussing this topic, the manager of another railroad uttered the same opinion from a somewhat different standpoint. He remarked in substance, “During the last week, at three different sessions, a committee of employees came to this office for the purpose of arbitrating, or coming to some understanding about, a matter of discipline. These men fought tooth and nail for what they considered their rights in this case, and finally, at the third hearing, an agreement was arrived at, which, if you choose, you may call a compromise. So far so good. But now to-day, these same men, or rather two of them, representing different organizations, have been up here again. Some kind of a dispute has arisen between these organizations, and they called upon me, with assurances of belief in my ability and impartiality, to act as final arbitrator between them. This means, of course, that I must devote two or three hours of my time to their private interests. Be this as it may, I consented to act as arbitrator, but at the same time I couldn’t help wondering how these men could find it in their hearts to accept my verdict in their private affairs, about which I know comparatively little, while they persistently question my judgment, and practically my honesty of purpose, in matters of discipline and management. In a word,” he concluded, “why don’t the employees trust the management to administer the affairs of the railroad conscientiously and fairly, and to give to each employee a square deal?”

During the palmy days of what may be called autocratic management, when a railroad man started out in the morning, the paymaster, or the office-boy, for that matter, could have told you the exact amount the man would have been entitled to on his return. The employee was willing, and in fact had agreed, to travel or to work from a point A to a point B for a certain fixed sum. So far as his pay was concerned, it made no difference whether he covered the distance in eight hours or eighteen. If a yard-master delayed him for two or three hours before starting, and if he lost half a day on the road by reason of wrecks, disablement of locomotive, or a washout, so much the worse for him. His duty was to go from A to B and to do what he was told to on the way, without question, even if it took him from sunrise to sunrise to cover the distance. There was no help or rescue in sight, no appeal from the discipline in those days; and if the work was not to his liking, the world was wide, and a dozen men were ready to step into his place.

Nevertheless, the one-sidedness and injustice of the whole proceeding were manifest to everybody, and from year to year it remained to be talked about, objected to, and brooded over. But with ever-increasing business and complication of conditions, a much better educated class of men found their way into the railroad service. In moving a train from place to place, greater intelligence was required. A conductor to-day can frequently run from one end of the road to the other in a purely mechanical fashion; but in the early days of railroading, with a single track, a confusion of flags and train orders, and a multitude of unforeseen difficulties awaiting him at every station, it took little less than genius to make a successful railroad man.

The really heart-breaking story of the hardship and heroism of the trainmen of those days has never been written, but a touch of the stern reality and pathos of it all can be imagined from the single consideration, that of seventeen freight conductors who in the year 1883 ran trains through the Hoosac Tunnel, only five in the year 1888, that is, five years later, were still to be found on the pay-rolls. In nearly every instance, death in violent form had removed the others. Of course, as we all know, the most popular type of heroism is to be looked for on the battlefield; but there are hundreds of railroad veterans on the streets to-day, undecorated and unremembered, whose services to the country are all worthy of popular sympathy and national gratitude.

As a result of these extraordinary conditions and the continual killing of employees, a new and more intelligent class of men was called upon, in course of time, to undertake the dangerous duties of railroad service. With increased intelligence and broader mental equipment, the thinking process in the brain of the railroad man expanded, and very naturally his awakened attention was not exclusively centred on the business of his employers. It soon became known to officials, and to the world, that we had grievances. Before long, rumblings of discontent were heard on all sides. Between ourselves we began to discuss matters of right and wrong. The men got together in groups, in small gatherings. Here and there, all over the country, little Runnymedes were attended by all conscientious, determined railroad men. With an ever-increasing demand for our services, came consciousness of importance and power. Attention was called to the injustice, the inconsistency of the situation. We petitioned and agitated for trifles. Inch by inch ground was gained. Frequently we were beaten back, sometimes routed, at other times the battle was drawn; but after every encounter, regardless of result, the ghost of the future remained on the field to disturb the slumbers of the management. So, through the years, the struggle proceeded, concession followed concession, until all kinds of injustice and favoritism, and in fact the whole system of purely autocratic management, had gone by the board, and fair play for the railroad trainman was an accomplished fact. For the future, to ask was to receive. Face to face with organizations of determined men, with the crops and manufactures of half a continent waiting to be moved to the seaboard, what was a management or a combination of managements going to do about it?

Thus, by evolution and revolution, a mighty change has come over the scene. To-day, when a railroad man makes a trip from point A to point B, it is altogether different from the performance to which I called attention at the beginning of this essay. At the end of his trip, the man now takes out his pencil and does some figuring. Neither the superintendent nor the paymaster has the slightest idea what the engineman’s, the conductor’s, or the brakeman’s bill for a day’s work is going to be. If a man is delayed on a road by the negligence of a fellow employee, the company will have to pay for the extra time. If he makes a straight trip, with one or two stops, he has a certain rate; if in the performance of his duties he is called upon to make an extra stop or to pick up a car of perishable goods, he will call for a special rate and much more money. His day’s trip frequently bristles with possibilities in the way of special rates and overtime. In the matter of overtime, he may have the opportunity to be just or unjust, as it pleases him; anyway, the company is at his mercy. Again, if at the end of a hundred-mile run, or thereabouts, for which an engineman would receive from four to five dollars, he is requested to take his engine out on the road again and move a car a distance of twenty feet, he will turn in his bill to the company for a greater amount than a gate-tender or a switchman would receive for his whole day’s work, from six in the morning until six at night, without a minute for meals.

Again, if a man gets into trouble, he is called into the office for an investigation. If it turns out that the accident was unquestionably the fault of the employee, he, of course, is liable to be disciplined for it in some way; but if as a result of the accident, the whole road is tied up for twelve hours, and he remains on duty half a day longer than his usual time, he will receive payment for this overtime in full, regardless of the fact that he himself was wholly responsible for the delay.

Far from criticising this state of affairs, I consider the demonstration I have given of the exact status of the railroad man at the present day a magnificent tribute to righteous and necessary organization. Up to this point the public has had no cause to complain, and discipline has not been interfered with. The treasury has borne the whole burden. While it is doubtless true that the liberal terms and concessions to which I refer have been brought about, so to speak, at the point of the bayonet, nevertheless many privileges and advantages are enjoyed by railroad men, which cannot be said to owe their origin to compulsion or pressure of any kind. The care shown by nearly all railroads for the welfare of the employee, and the millions of dollars that have been expended for his social and intellectual betterment, must also be taken as direct evidence of square and honest treatment. To combat the evils of the saloon, and in the interest of good citizenship, both on and off the railroad, the corporations have gone extensively and expensively into the construction and maintenance of reading-rooms and hospitals, as well as relief, savings, and loan associations. There is, indeed, a fine sense of business judgment hidden away in these different methods of looking after the interests of the employees, and there is hardly a road in the country that does not recognize the principle that to obtain competent, trained assistants, especially in the operating department, it is essential that the men be surrounded with all sorts of inducements to remain in the service, and to be loyal to the interests of their employers. This philanthropic and betterment work is to be found on all railroads, and conspicuously so on the Baltimore & Ohio. The following particulars of relief and betterment work on the above railroad may be taken as a lesson of what corporations with souls are doing in the interests of employees.