Eastern Michigan
January, 1989
He drove along the snow coated roads of Michigan's thumb region, looking for a specific house. He had driven over 500 miles and he hoped to God that he wouldn't be turned away when he got there. He had been given a few tips as to where he could find Mr. Rauli, but he had no idea as to if he would be willing to talk or not.
He looked down at the piece of the map that had the address scribbled on it and a circle around the general location where the address would be. He turned east, off the main road and realized that he didn't have much farther to go. Up ahead, behind one of the many brick farm houses that dotted the area, was a small, wood caboose lettered for the Grand Trunk Western, with a semaphore signal standing guard next to it.
"That has to be it," he said and he turned the car into the driveway. He parked the car, walked up to the house, and knocked on the door. After a minute, a young man in his mid-20's opened the door.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Yes, I was wondering if this would happen to be the residence of Mr. William Rauli?"
"Depends on which one you're looking for," the young man replied. "Who wants to know?"
"My name is Michael Grovelan. I'm an editor for Trains Magazine. I was told that Mr. Rauli owns the Jackson, Pontiac & Northern and that he also owns a GTW steam locomotive that was-"
"We're not discussing anything involving the railroad or its equipment to the presses of anyone, no matter who they may be," the young man said and he proceeded to shut the door.
"Wait, please," Michael said. "I'm not here to talk about the railroad, I'm here to talk to the engine, Christine."
"No one is going to see her for any reason at all! Good day!" And with that, the young man closed the door firmly.
Michael stood there, not sure why they were being so tight lipped. So he did the only thing he could think of. "You know, as soon as she's scrapped," he said in a loud voice, "All that history, all those memories, are lost forever. And no one will be able to get them back."
He didn't have long to wait before an older gentleman opened the door. "What did you say about Chrissy?" he asked. The tone in his voice sounded like what Michael had said had struck a nerve and started to make Michael question if he had just done the right thing.
"Haven't you heard?" Michael asked.
"Heard what?"
"Ever since she was taken out of service and disappeared, a lot of people, railfans included, have been speculating as to what happened to her. Some people think that she was damaged much more severely than what was reported when she derailed on the Sandusky & Southern, and that now she's being scrapped. This story is gaining a lot of popularity, but at the moment it's only rumors. That's why I want to set the record straight."
The old man looked at Michael hard and long. As the two men looked at each other, sizing each other up, a blue lifted pick-up truck pulled into the driveway. A young man stepped out of the truck and proceeded to walk up to the side door. Both men's gaze followed him as he walked back. He knocked and the door opened.
"Hey, Will." he said. "I wanted to give you an update on the-"
"Get in here, Dill." The young man was quickly yanked through the door by the man that had answered the door earlier.
"Just a minute Son," the older gentleman called out. "Come over here, and bring Dillon over here too," he said and then turned towards Michael. "You want to know what's going on, to set the record straight? You got it. Hop in your car and follow us." He said.
"But... Pa," Will protested.
"No buts. If he wants the truth to stop all these rumors, we'll give it to him."
After a few minutes, the group was ready and they headed north. After about ten minutes, they arrived at another farm, with a rather large, yet modern looking barn in the back. The men got out and Mr. Rauli opened the barn door.
As the men walked in, Michael was taken aback at what he saw. Inside the barn, along both walls, was a rather large amount of machine tools and metalworking tools of various sizes. Hanging from the roof of the barn was a rather large hoist crane. And in the very center of the shop, dismantled in several places with a few men working on her, was Christine.
She smiled warmly as the men walked into the shop. "Afternoon Mr. Rauli," she said as they approached her. "Who's this?"
"Christine, this is Michael Grovelan from Trains Magazine. Michael, this is Christine."
"Nice to meet you," Michael said.
"Likewise," Christine replied. "Now what brings you here?"
"Well I don't think you know this but some people think that your derailment a few months ago was a lot worse than what the railroad said. And most of these same people now think you're being scrapped. I want to set the record straight."
Christine chuckled to herself. "Well it actually doesn't surprise me that people are thinking that of me. I mean, I was taken off the property rather quickly. But nope, here I am; alive and well. Well, mostly well." All the men chuckled. "So is that all you came here for?"
"Actually there was one other thing," Michael said. "Aside from just getting confirmation about what happened to you, I wanted to see if I could write down your story. What life was like for you back when you first worked on the railroad."
"Now just a minute," Mr. Rauli said intervening. "You said you were here to see that she wasn't scrapped. You didn't say anything about-"
"It's alright Mr. Rauli," Christine said. "I don't have a problem with it. In fact, I feel honored that someone wants to write down my story."
"Thank you Christine," Michael replied. "I appreciate this opportunity." He turned to Mr. Rauli. "Mr. Rauli?"
He wore a slight frown but relented. "Well... if it's all right with Christine, then it's all right with me."
Michael smiled. "Thank you Mr. Rauli." He turned back to Christine. "Let me go get my things and then we can begin."
After a few minutes, he returned with a small, portable table. He hooked up a small microphone recorder and got out a pad of paper to write down other notes. Once he had everything ready, he started the recorder.
"So, Christine. Where would you like to start?" he asked.
"Well, I guess I should start from the beginning. I was built in October of 1912 by the Baldwin Locomotive Works. Back then, I was to work for the Grand Trunk Railway, the predecessor of the GTW, as number 108."
October, 1912
It was dark, cold and wet. These were the first things the engine sensed as she woke up. She started to open her eyes as she began to make out some of the sounds around her. She could hear someone talking but she couldn't make out what they were saying yet. As she awoke more, her senses became more alert to her surroundings.
Just then a bright flash of light accompanied with a deafening crash jolted her fully awake. "Ahhhh!" she screamed. "What was that?"
This startled the two engines that were hauling her more than what caused the flash and bang.
"Dang, lady. You really scared the cinders right out of my firebox," the first one said.
"Yeah, that scared us worse than the lightning," the second engine added. "At least you're awake now though. Means I've got another female I can talk to. Guys can be so boring sometimes."
"Hey now," the first engine protested.
The new engine ignored the comments. "And what was that lightning you were talking about?"
"Oh that?" the second engine said. "That was the flash and loud boom you heard. And I gotta say, that really struck close to the tracks that time. I don't think I've ever seen lightning strike that close to the tracks before."
Both engines had thick Brooklyn accents but were relatively easy to understand. The new engine looked around as she started to make sense of everything after her initial scare. "Where am I?" she asked.
"Well, right now you're on the Lehigh Valley Railroad being shipped to Buffalo," the second engine said. "You're one of the newest products from the Baldwin Locomotive Works. You're being shipped to the Grand Trunk Railway where you'll be working."
"Okay," the engine said, not really sure of what to make of it. "Who are you?"
"Oh, where are our manners. My name is Beth," the second engine replied.
"And I'm Bradley," the first engine replied. "We're N-1 Mikados that work for the LV."
"Do you know who I am?" the engine asked.
"Well, I know that you're a Pacific type, and your number is 108," Beth replied. "But beyond that I'm afraid I don't know. But I'm sure your new driver will know when you get to your home rails."
The new engine pondered these things and asked a few more questions as they continued through the hills of eastern New York. For such a young engine she was very engaging and inquisitive. Then again, almost all young engines were. As they continued west, the rain gradually died down but the weather remained rather overcast. After a few hours of traveling, they arrived in Buffalo. They pulled into a yard and disconnected from their train. Then Beth and Bradley pulled the engine into a second yard.
Upon arriving, they met another engine, a 2-8-0 lettered for the Grand Trunk with the number 779 on his tender, who greeted them warmly. "Glad to see you guys made it safely," the engine said. He had a slight hint of a Canadian accent that still could have very easily been mistaken for American. "Is that our new engine?" he asked.
"Yep, fresh from Eddystone," Bradley replied.
"Good. Welcome to Buffalo, Ma'am. My name's Riley. I'll be taking you across the river to Canada where you'll meet your crew."
"Thank you," the engine replied. "And thank you as well, Bradley and Beth. I really appreciated the talk we had."
"Our pleasure," Bradley replied. "Enjoy your time on the GT."
After the two engines left, Riley hooked up to the engine and pulled her across a huge bridge. The engine looked out across the big river. Down below, she saw a huge ship sailing under them. Riley gave a long, loud blast on his whistle followed by two short but slow blasts. This was replied by the ship with the same pattern. "Hello Riley!" the ship called out.
"Hello William," Riley called back. "That's William P. Stout, one of the largest vessels sailing the Great Lakes today. He carries iron ore from Minnesota and Northern Michigan to the eastern ports as well as other bulk loads." The new engine was fascinated by this.
After they arrived in the yard they found some men waiting for them by the fueling racks. "Is that my new engine?" one of the men asked. He was rather tall and well built. He had a thick chinstrap beard but no mustache.
"Yes it is," Riley replied. "The newest Baldwin Pacific on the GT."
"It's a pleasure to meet you young lady," The man said. "What's your name?"
"I don't have a name," the engine replied. "All I know is that I'm a Pacific, number 108."
"Well I happen to have the perfect name for you. How does Christine sound?"
"I'd love that name," the engine replied.
"Good. Christine it shall be. And I'm sure your siblings will approve as well, considering their names also begin with C. I'm Fredrick Guilford, your new driver. But I'd prefer if you called me Mr. Guilford, if that's all right."
"That's fine with me, Mr. Guilford," Christine replied.
"Good. And this is your fireman, Mr. Thomas."
"It's a pleasure to meet you. So what will I be doing here on the railroad?"
"Well you'll be hauling trains, of course," Mr. Guilford replied. "However, you won't be hauling just any train, you'll be hauling passenger trains. But, when you haul passenger trains, the lives of many people are put in your care. You must remember to be careful as you don't want to bother the passengers. You want to give them a smooth ride."
"Alright," Christine replied. "When will I be going to work?
Mr. Guilford chuckled. "In due time. First, we need to take you over to get coal and water so you can operate."
Riley pushed Christine under the coal rack and she had her tender filled with coal. Then she was pushed under the water tower to have her tender and boiler filled with water. Once that was done, Mr. Thomas lit her fire and she began to fill up with steam.
"Well I have to go haul another train east to Portland, Maine," Riley said after he finished moving her to the maintenance track. "It was nice to meet you and I hope to see you again."
"Same here Riley. And thanks."
"No problem. Enjoy your trip."
After Christine's crew finished oiling and greasing her rods and bearings and she had a full head of steam, they took her over to the station to collect her train. The train was long, about 9 cars. People were bustling around trying to get onto her train and others that were on adjacent tracks. On the track across the platform sat another engine. This one looked exactly like Christine, except that it had the number 100 on its tender.
"Hi there," the engine said. The engine was a female had a more Canadian accent than Riley but her voice was slightly rougher than Christine's. "I take it you're one of my new sisters. I'm Connie, your big sister."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Christine."
"Ah, another C name, eh? That's nice. So how do you like it on the railroad so far?"
"Well, this is my first train but I guess we'll see. I will admit though, I'm a little nervous. I mean, I've never done this before and I don't want the passengers to think I'm no good."
"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll do great. All you have to do is just remember to be gentle. Don't stop suddenly; don't start suddenly. And always be prepared to slow down when necessary. Just remember that and you'll do fine."
"Thanks, Connie. I appreciate that."
Just then, a conductor blew his whistle. "That's me," Connie said. "Good luck on your first day. Hopefully I'll see you again."
"Thank you, and same here," Christine replied. And with that, Connie was off in a cloud of steam. After she left, Mr. Guilford walked up to check on his engine.
"You ready to go?" he asked.
"I think so. Just a little nervous."
"Well don't worry. I'll be right here helping you all the way."
He headed back to the cab and climbed in just as the conductor blew his whistle. He immediately got to work on getting Christine ready to leave. He released the breaks, moved the Johnson bar into place, and pulled back on the throttle. Gradually, remembering to start gently, Christine pulled the heavy train out of the station.
She was actually surprised at how easy it was, even though she had never pulled a train before on her own. "So where are we going?" she asked as they continued east.
"We're heading to Sarnia," Mr. Guilford said. "It's one of the western points on the GT in Canada. When we get there we'll rest for the night and then head back west to Toronto in the morning."
Christine didn't know where these places were but she was sure that she would learn eventually. As they continued east, Mr. Guilford taught Christine how she should stop and start at a station, slowing down gradually prior to getting to the station. She didn't want to stop too soon, but she also didn't want to stop too late. Christine could tell that Mr. Guilford knew what he was talking about and was soon getting the hang of things.
At the end of the day, they arrived in Sarnia. The city wasn't extremely big, but it was still a big city none the less. She pulled up to the station and had her cars removed before she went to the roundhouse. There were some other engines there, including two other engines who looked like her.
"Well, well, well," said one of her siblings as Christine pulled onto the turntable. "Look at what we have here, eh, Cate? A new sister."
"I see her, Cal. But you don't have to be rude about it."
"I'm not being rude, I'm trying to welcome her."
"Well you could be a little quieter instead of making a scene, eh?"
"True. Sorry about that. I have a tendency to have a big mouth," Cal said, receiving an eye rolling from Cate. "So who are you?"
"I'm Christine," she replied.
"Christine, a beautiful name," Cate replied. "I'm Caterina, your big sister. But you can call me Cate. And you've already been introduced to your loud-mouthed brother here."
"Hey!" Cal said. "I said I was sorry." His voice had risen up again in volume.
"There you go again," said another engine from towards the end of the shed. "Don't you know when to be quiet? She's a brand new engine. You're likely to scare her because of that big mouth of yours."
"And while you're at it," came another voice from behind them, "Why don't you all just go turn yourselves in to the scrappers and give up this charade. After all, you all know we're better than you. You can't even go through the tunnel!" This was followed by some maniacal laughter.
"Who was that?" Christine asked.
"That, my little sister, was Ethan," Cate replied. "One of the electrics that works the tunnel between here and Port Huron, the city across the river."
"Why is he so rude?"
"Well, steam engines can't go into the tunnel by themselves because if they stall, they might choke out the crew. So the electric engines were brought in to work the tunnel since they don't emit smoke."
"He also thinks that steam engines are useless and that one day his kind will rule the rails," Cal added.
"Well how do we know that we'll stall?" Christine asked.
"Well, the grade is 2% in the tunnel. Some engines have difficulty on grades that steep," Cal replied.
"Has anyone ever stalled in that tunnel before?"
"Not in the years that I worked on it," came a reply from an 0-10-0 at the end of the roundhouse. "I'm Stanley. I worked that tunnel ever since it was built. And I can tell you for a fact that no one ever stalled in that tunnel. Sure, there have been a few times that we had a scare or two, but no one ever stalled."
"Then why can't I go through the tunnel myself? If I get a running start down the grade into the tunnel then I should be able to make it up and out the other side," Christine said.
All the engines stopped and stared at her. They had never heard an engine talk like her before. "That's easier said than done, sister," came a reply from Cate. "We've never tried it because that's the job of the tunnel engines. Also, we're not allowed in the tunnel."
"But you can't just let those boxes talk to you like that. I was just built. Doesn't that prove that we're still needed?"
"Yes, but you're talking about going against management here."
"Then why don't they do something about them treating you like this?"
"Once again, that's easier said than done," Cate replied. Some of the other engines were becoming impressed at an engine this brand new being so head strong.
"But there has to be something we can do. Anything."
"I'm sorry, sister, but there's really nothing we can do about this."
Christine couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her own siblings were backing down all because of a talking box who boasted about being better than they were. As she sat in the sheds, she noticed that the electrics could only go on the areas where there were wires over the track. The wheels in her smokebox began to turn as she thought of a plan. She would prove to her siblings once and for all that they wouldn't be talked down to by anyone.
Eastern Michigan January, 1989
"So what did you do?" Michael asked.
"Well, I made a plan of taking care of those boasting lunch boxes once and for all."
"And what was that?"
"Well-"
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Mr. Rauli said, "But it's getting late and I need to close up the shop."
"Alright, thank you," Michael said as he turned the recorder off. "I completely lost track of time. Would it be alright if I stopped by tomorrow and continue my chat with Christine? I'll be in town all weekend."
Mr. Rauli thought about it for a minute. "Well, I guess that's alright, as long as you help with her rebuild. In fact, I have an idea. I've been listening to you two chatting for a while now and I've been thinking. Being Chrissy's driver, I know a lot of her stories, but I don't know all of them. How about for one weekend every three weeks, you come back here and can get more of her story. That way we all get to hear more about her story; as long as you help with her rebuild, of course."
"I think that's an excellent idea," Christine replied.
"Well, I can imagine that hearing your story will take longer than one weekend. Alright, let's do it," Michael replied.
"Good," Mr. Rauli said. "Meet us at my house at 6:00 tomorrow morning and we'll get to work."
"Sounds like a plan. And thank you again for all this. I really appreciate the opportunity."
"The pleasure is all mine."