New Moon:
Chattanooga Tennessee, June 13, 2014:
In the East Chattanooga end of the Tennessee Valley Railroad Museum on a cool Wednesday afternoon, a 2008 Ford Fusion pulls into the gravel parking lot and came to a complete stop. The driver stepped out from her car and brought out a large notebook and a good ball point pen, she had been invited by the museum to interview one of their engines. But it was not the one that you would expect, Sarah, Southern Railway Ms 2-8-2 number 4501 may still be inside being put back together as part of her restoration for Norfolk Southern's 21st Century Steam program, but this woman reporter for the Chattanooga Times Free Press, the local newspaper that is often viewed as "too liberal for personal taste" by most people in town, is here to interview one of the classic diesels that the museum owns. She walked over to Soule shops and noticed Sarge, the former U.S. Army 2-8-0 number 610 sleeping silently with Victoria, former Kentucky and Tennessee 2-8-2 number 10 right behind him. As to not disturb these engines, she carefully stepped on the rails they sat on instead of the gravel that always crunched with each step. Of course, once she got to the concrete of the building's foundation, the loud sound of a L&N 6-chime whistle broke the silence. It was Cassidy, former Southern railway Ks-1 2-8-0 number 630, who finished the summer season of main line excursions from Chattanooga to Oneida and back. She was pulling the Missionary Ridge Local, but she still looked a little tired from her return trip home despite it being nearly a week since she did it. The woman smiled as she watched the lots of children exit the train and Cassidy pull onto the turn table. After that, she stepped inside and came up to one of shop workers.
"Excuse me, but which one of these guys am I supposed to interview?" She asked. An young man with black hair, rounded facial cheeks, brown eyes, and black hair that was styled into a spike at the top of his forehead, looked up from sanding Sarah's sand dome and addressed her.
"You mean Larry? He's right there." He pointed to a rusty EMD E8A that sat in the back corner of the building, sleeping away as his restoration crawls along. The woman carefully walked around Sarah and other various debris until she was able to set up a chair in front of the diesel.
"Excuse me, Larry, is it?" She asked. The A-unit spluttered himself awake to find the young woman in front of him with a pen and notebook.
"Oh, Hi there, I guess you're the lady who's here to ask me some questions?" He asked with a squeaky voice, pretty uncommon for an engine from Southern.
"Yep, I'm Bethany Garner of the local paper. Many people seem to go goo-goo-ga when they see a steam engine, but we're approaching that time where classic engines like yourself are starting to get some love, particularly from rail fans and people of the older generations." The woman replied.
"Yeah, I know that story, but I don't believe my generation of diesel deserves the love we are now starting to get."
"Why is that?"
"Well, particularly in the early days, diesels weren't exactly the nicest thing on the planet, allow me to explain, early on diesels treated steam like useless scrap metal, and for a short time I believed it to be true, but then I saw something horrible and it still haunts me to this day. But let me start at the beginning."
Atlanta Georgia, December 28, 1953:
A brand new EMD E8 slowly opened his eyes in the Inman Yard in downtown Atlanta as the sun was beginning to rise over the snow covered city. He looked around to observe his environment to find that despite the fact that the sky was a beautiful bright orange and it gleamed off the snow like diamonds. it was still very busy. With new F units locking up to freshly arranged set of freight cars and others rolling in with new ones to be sent to other places. It was like a fantasy land. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a man clear his throat, the man before him was a young man, late twenties at best, with dirty blonde hair, blue overalls, and brown eyes.
"Hello, I am E8 number 10912. I have been built by General Motor's Electro Motive Division in LaGrange Illinois." He began in a strange monotone voice. "I am the ninth of an order of ten E8s for the Southern Railway, their second order. My road number is 6914 and with the duty of hauling passenger trains along the Southeastern United States. I am obligated to keep the high standards of the Southern and EMD as well."
"Gee, uh, that's great and all, but what is your name? Like with letters and such?" the driver asked. He had been warned by veteran drivers that EMD tended to make their engines robotic and creepy at first with no personality whatsoever. The diesel paused; he had no idea how to answer the man's question. He opened his mouth to try to come up with one, but no name came to mind. How embarrassing this is, EMD never programmed him with a personality. Oh sure, they taught him the important stuff like what he was and what his purpose was, but nothing else.
"Don't worry." Laughed the driver. " I've got one for you already, Larry."
"Larry?" the diesel asked, confused.
"Yeah, that's what you shall be known as. Hell it's gotta be better than… one…oh…nine…something rather or sixty nine fourteen."
"Oh, uh, okay then." Larry replied, still unsure of all this. He shivered as he felt his driver's cold hands grab on to the handrails, curse this weather, why did it have to be so cold?
"I know Larry, I hate the cold too." The driver laughed as he closed the door behind him into the cab. Larry smiled when he heard the roar of his motors, pretty soon they will provide him with warmth. "By the way Larry, my name's Steven."
"Steven? It's nice to meet you." Larry responded happily. Despite the cold weather and wind, it felt great to be alive.