FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

They say that for every legend, there is a hero; Men and women who inspire tall tales through their real exploits. I certainly never thought I'd become one of those men. Who am I...? My name is Donald Snow, engineer extraordinaire. Or at least I was; I'm too old for that sort of thing anymore. Of course, at sixty-eight, I can't say I didn't have a long prosperous life. Wait... what was I talking about...? Oh right, Heroes! And, uh... how I became one! Now I'm pretty sure you've heard the legend of the great snow wolf; how he braved a blizzard through a dangerous mountain to bring medicine and presents to the good children of a sleepy little town. Well guess what... you're lookin' at him; and I really did go through all that. Of course you know the way they portray it in the picture books. For me... it was a very different experience. What's that? You'd like to hear about it? Well... Alright, you've talked me into it. Here, let me pour you some tea and I'll tell you what _really_happened that night. It was December twenty-fourth; Christmas Eve; in the winter of nineteen-seventy-eight...

I was still a sprightly young thing, by railroad standards of course; only thirty-two years of age. I had worked on the railroad all my live-long life. What fascinated me the most were the old steam engines; which by that time were giving way to the modern diesel-electrics that were taking over the lines. After learning how the British broke the steam speed recode with their Mallard engine, I had been determined to beat it again for America. But I wasn't satisfied with the idea of modifying an existing engine; no sirree! I led a team of builders who built a whole new steam engine from the ground up to beat the record; and since it was my idea, I became her engineer. Together, my engine and I broke the record and she became the fastest steam machine in America, the world, and history.

Anyway... It was the morning of Christmas Eve and I was looking forward to a quiet day before the most wonderful day of the year. My partner, Evan and I had arrived in Seattle the night before and were resting ourselves since we had been given Christmas Eve and Christmas day off and wouldn't have to drive any trains those days. Anyway, Evan lived in Seattle so he was going to spend Christmas with his wife and children. I on the other hand just wanted to spend the next two days relaxing, so I was staying in a hotel with a nice view over the city. It was still morning and I had just finished breakfast when the phone rang.

"Hello?" I asked when I picked it up.

"Donald!" a voice said, "Thank goodness! I know we've given you the day off, but there's a dire situation here!" I recognized that voice as the stationmaster of the Seattle freight yard.

"What is it, Sir?" I asked.

"We've just received word that there's a shortage of medicine in Great Falls, Montana!" he said, "And a lot of the townspeople, particularly the children, are sick and in the hospital. To make matters worse, they're being hit by a major blizzard that's shut down the airport and snowed in half the town. That means the only feasible way in there is by rail. We've arranged for a train of medicine but we need a strong and reliable engine to pull it."

"In other words..." I said, "You need me and my steam engine."

"That's right;" said the stationmaster, "And because its Christmas, we'll also be sending some toys for the children. Do you think you can pull the train for us?" I thought for a moment; I had been looking forward to taking some time off from work, but an engineer is sworn to do his job whenever he is needed wherever he may be.

"I'll do it!" I said, "I'm just going to need some time to pull together some supplies for the trip in the event of a breakdown."

"That's alright;" said the stationmaster, "I'll tell the boys to get your engine up to steam for when you arrive. You better contact Mr. Walters as well."

"I can't, Sir;" I said, "He's out of contact for the next couple of days. His family would never forgive him if he didn't stay home for Christmas." After thinking about it, I continued, "I'll run the train myself!"

"Are you sure...?" asked the stationmaster, "Mr. Snow, I appreciate your dedication, but you don't have to be a hero."

"Being a hero has nothing to do with it, Sir;" I said, "It's about doing my job as an engineer of the Northern Pacific Railroad. Tell the boys to get the Corsair up to steam; I'll be there as soon as I can." And I hung up. I knew that operating my steam engine all on my own would be a big job, but it could be done. So I went out to prepare for the long journey ahead.

*****

It was slightly overcast when I reached the freight yard around one p.m. I had already changed into my work clothes so I was ready to go; and as I saw her on the siding with steam billowing from her stack, I knew the train was ready as well. My engine's name was the Corsair; named for one of the fastest U.S. made planes of World War II. She was a beautiful lady; a 2-8-4 streamlined steamer painted in gold with green lines. She was also the only mainline steam engine in North America; working for the Northern Pacific Railroad. I was very proud to call myself the engineer of such a magnificent machine. As I stepped up to her, one of the yard workers came over to me.

"You really gonna try and handle her all by yourself?" he asked, "I mean... some engineers were able to do it with the classic American steamers, but your engine is twice the size and has more than twice the wheels."

"I'll be fine;" I said, "My biggest concern on this trip is the snowstorm that's hovering over the North Midwest."

"Well, Mr. Snow;" said another worker, "We're worried about the snow there too, so we were wondering if you'd be willing to try out something that might help you."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Look..." said the worker, "Here she comes now." I looked and saw a small shunter engine pushing a strange looking attachment towards the front of my engine. It slid into the front coupler and became locked in place.

"Wow..." I said as I went to look at it, "What exactly is this thing?" The attachment was roughly the size of a small car; it sat on a four-wheeled truck and looked like a snow plow, except it was a sloping wedge with a point on the end rather than a traditional V-shaped plow. In fact, it almost looked like a traditional cowcatcher; and for some reason, it also contained some complex machinery.

"It was developed by some of the tech-heads in the equipment division;" one of the workers told me, "They're calling it... a _glow_plow."

"Why?" I asked, "Does it light up or something?"

"Not exactly;" he replied, "It contains a heat generator operated by remote control. The blade itself is made of copper, which has a high melting point. When this little baby heats up, it'll melt the snow in front of it, making it much easier to plow through."

"Really..." I said, "Well, you never know; it just might work." The shunter got out of the way and moved to another siding. I then turned to look at the train I was pulling; ten boxcars with five full of medicine and five full of Christmas presents. Normally the Corsair wouldn't be used for hauling freight but this was a special occasion; besides, it was well within her capabilities.

"Here you are, Mr. Snow;" said a yard worker, "This is the remote control for the glow plow. I'd recommend you warm her up as soon as possible."

"I'll keep that in mind." I said as I took the remote. Then I started up the ladder into the cab. Once inside, I tried to turn the cab light on, only to discover that the bulb had burnt out. Shrugging it off, I sat in the engineer's seat and checked the pressure gauges. Everything seemed to be in order, so all I had to do was wait for clearance. Before a minute passed, someone called me from below; it was the stationmaster.

"Mr. Snow!" he called, "I think you should take this with you!" He was holding a pretty red oil lantern. I came to the door as he stood at the bottom of the ladder. "This was a gift to me from my uncle before he died..." he said, "It'll light up your cab and keep you a little warmer."

"Thanks a lot..." I said as I accepted the lantern from him, "If this thing doesn't see me through to Great Falls, nothing will. Can I return it when I get back?"

"No need..." he said, "It's yours to keep; Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Sir!" I replied. I hung the lantern just so I could see the gauges clearly. Then I pushed the Johnson bar forward and prepared to release the brakes. At last the semaphore changed to green; I blew two long bursts of the whistle, indicating the train was ready to pull out. After releasing the brakes and advancing the throttle, the _Corsair_started smoothly and began to gather speed. In no time at all she was hissing and chugging out of the freight yard and onto the main line. As we departed, I noticed one of the workers running after the train, waving his arms. At the time, we were already underway and there wasn't much point in making a sudden stop, so I didn't really give it much thought. If I had only known what he was going to tell me, I probably would have stopped...

*****

The first couple hours of the trip were absolutely routine. There was a little bit of snow on the rails, but it was so shallow that the momentum of the train was more than enough for the plow to deal with it. I meanwhile was enjoying the warmth of the firebox in my cozy cab. As for running the Corsair without a fireman, I... have to admit I was doing a pretty good job of it on my own. The Corsair was an oil burner; so rather than having to shovel coal, the oil just flowed in from the tender to the firebox. Normally, Evan would turn the wheel to control the flow of oil; I however manag_ed_ to keep control of it with a hook on the end of a pole. It wasn't until I reached the base of the Rocky Mountains that I saw the first sign of big trouble... a double red semaphore. I applied the brakes and brought the train to a halt. After standing still for ten minutes, I saw someone running down the track to meet me.

"Trouble ahead...?" I asked.

"Massive trouble!" he answered, "There's been an avalanche and the tunnel's blocked!" I was horrified; with the tunnel gone I'd never get the medicine and presents through on time.

"What should I do?" I asked, "I can't run this whole train backwards for a hundred miles!"

"It's either that or sit here and wait out the blizzard that's coming over the peaks!" he said, "I don't think you'd fancy freezing to death in your cab." I couldn't believe what I was hearing; I'd have to go back to Seattle and inform them... that I had failed.

"This can't be happening...!" I cursed, "Those kids are going to be so disappointed come Christmas morning; not to mention they might not get the help they need!"

"You might not like it, but you're gonna have to face it, pal!" said the trackman, "There's absolutely no way through these mountains!" It was at that moment that I smelt a loophole. Yes, there was no way through the mountains, but there was a way to go over them.

"If that's the case..." I said, "I'll just take Jagged-tooth Pass!"

"Jagged-tooth Pass?!?" cried the trackman, "Are you off your rocker? That track's too steep and slippery for a train like that! Besides, it might be coated with snow too!"

"Snow yes..." I said, "But not as high as he top of the engine. And it just so happens I've got something that'll take care of that snow on the tracks." I flipped the switch on the remote control and turned the knob up to full. From the front of the Corsair, there came a deep hum as the glow plow powered up. The trackman didn't look that impressed.

"What do you plan to do?" he asked, "Shake the snow off with a shaking plow?"

"It's heated..." I said, calmly, "And It should melt the snow and make it easier to push through."

"I'm not gonna lie to you;" said the trackman, "Jagged-tooth pass is just too dangerous in these conditions. Don't try to be a hero."

"I'm not..." I said, "I'm just doing my duty as an engineer; to see that this train gets through." The trackman gave me a skeptical look; then said,

"Alright... I think you've got a death wish, but I'll take you as far as the switch and open it for you."

"Thank you very much." I said. He climbed into the cab with me, and we set off again. As we neared the switch that led to Jagged-tooth Pass, the trackman looked at me with an expression that I couldn't quite place.

"I'll jump down and throw the switch;" he said, "After that, you're on your own."

"That's fine with me;" I said, "I've got nothing to lose anyway; so one way or the other... I'll be fine."

"You know you won't make it..." he replied, "But, for whatever it's worth... I hope you do." With that, he hopped down from the cab and ran up the line towards the old switch. Once he had switched the points from the mainline to the old track that veered off into the hills, I opened up the throttle and the Corsair made her way onto the old track. I noticed that there was snow about two and a half feet deep on the track, but almost as soon as the glow plow struck it, it easily came out of the way. Now that I had assurance the plow would work, I only had to worry about the steep climb and ominously named obstacles ahead of me.

*****

My heart pounded as the train approached the incline that would take us up into the mountains. I knew that the snow would be difficult to push through going uphill so I had decided to take the climb at speed and get up as far as I could before having to crawl in low gear. The snow melted right off of the plow even as the speedometer ticked up to fifty miles per hour. I of course didn't want to go too fast and risk derailing, so rather than open up to full; I dropped some sand onto the rails for better traction. We hit the one-in-five grade at sixty miles per hour and began our ascent into the Rockies. Just a mile and a half up the slope, the Corsair_started slowing down. I eased the throttle down and put the Johnson bar into low gear. The power of the steam pressure was enough to keep the drive wheels turning; I was just concerned whether they would have the traction to haul our ten car train up the hill. Soon we were hitting a slightly steeper grade but maintaining our pace at fifteen miles per hour. Soon, we reached the top of the hill, and without any slippage whatsoever. I still didn't want to speed up as the curves in Jagged-tooth pass were sharp and it was pretty much a gamble as to whether the tracks could support the weight of the _Corsair. Easy enough for a small mountain engine, but a massive express engine...? I wasn't sure.

Jagged-tooth Pass was built back in the nineteen-twenties as a way to move trains through this region of the Rockies quicker. Some people found small traces of gold in the mountains and set up prospecting camps to reap the rewards. They built them by the railroad so they would have an easy way of getting supplies. The camps closed down in the late fifties, but the railroad through the pass remained, even though a tunnel through the mountains was built to increase safety and speed up the journey. Since the tunnel was at the base of the mountains, it was indeed vulnerable to avalanches sealing it off. But Jagged-tooth pass was built through shallow hills on the way up and nearly reached the top; a revolutionary build at the time which kept it relatively safe from being closed off by avalanches. This meant that hopefully, all I would have to deal with was a few feet of snow; no match for a hot glow-plow.

As the train rounded a curve that ran along the side of the mountain, there was a soft clank and I felt a jolt; a look at the drivers confirmed our first slippage. What was strange about it was that the track was level, so there wasn't any hill to slow us down. I had been an engineer long enough to know that something had to be wrong with the train, so I applied the brakes and stopped her. Only a small fence shielded the train from a sheer drop to our right, so I grabbed the lantern and exited the cab to the left. Outside it was freezing; the wind was quietly howling, and the snow was falling slowly. As I walked back down the track, I finally saw the problem; the lead bogie of boxcar number six had one wheel over the rail! I wasn't sure how that had happened, but I didn't really have time to question it; in twenty minutes, the blizzard would be on top of us. For a moment, I considered locking the brakes on the last five cars so I could continue, but then it hit me; if I didn't get every last present and every last bit of medicine through that night, I would have failed as an engineer; not to mention those poor children would be so disappointed. After considering what else could be done, I opened boxcar number six to see what the load was like. Upon examination, I discovered there were several boxes and crates, but most of them were pretty light.

"Okay then..." I said, "Time to consolidate." The first thing I did was put a red marker flag behind the train to warn anyone approaching from the west; even though the chances were against that. Then I walked up the track and opened the door on boxcar number one; then I started taking the crates and boxes out of number six and transferring them to number one. Once number six was empty and number one was full, I shut the door on number one and opened up number two, which I started filling with cargo from number seven. I did the same thing with boxcars three and eight, and by the time I was working on four and nine, the cold was starting to get to me. I realized that the blizzard was probably on the verge of coming over the peaks. Oh how I wanted to retreat to my nice warm cab and get off of these mountains; but the thought of sick and disappointed children only made me fight harder. As I was finishing transferring the boxes from boxcar ten to five, it hit. An icy wind swirled down the tracks, taking me by surprise and making me drop the last box. I picked it up and pushed it into boxcar five before shutting the door. In these kinds of temperatures, fingers are in danger of bonding to metal, so I was glad I was wearing my gloves. I couldn't waste time manually applying the brakes to all five trailing boxcars, so I decided to lock the brakes on boxcars number six and ten; hopefully they would keep the cars between them from sliding. After uncoupling number six from number five, I was finally able to go back to the engine; but alas... my troubles were far from over.

As I entered the cab, I noticed that it had gotten suspiciously cold inside. At first I didn't think too much about it, but when I went over to check the pressure gauges, I found there was very little heat coming from the firebox. A look at the gauges confirmed that I had let the fire bank down, and as a result, we didn't have enough steam to get moving, let alone make it off the mountains.

"Oh no..." I said as I opened the emergency firebox door and looked at the sorry sight of a couple small flames and a puddle of oil, "I'm gonna have to manually reignite this thing." I had an idea of what could be done; if I could get enough oil into the firebox and ignite it all at once, it would hopefully reheat the water and get the steam pressure back up. I checked my coat pockets for a box of matches, but there were none. "Of course..." I said to myself, "I don't smoke." Then I remembered... the stationmaster's oil lantern! It naturally burned oil, and if I could get it to set the oil in the lamp on fire, maybe that would be enough to reignite the firebox. First of course, I dug out a headband light and put it on; by using the lantern for the fire, I was sacrificing my light source. I opened the oil valve to get some oil into the firebox. The oil itself was a bit stiff from being cold, so I used the hand pump to loosen it up a bit. Once there was a decent amount of oil, I took the lantern, turned the flame as high as it would go, and after getting in stance... threw it into the firebox. The lamp shattered and ignited as I had hoped, and then a wave of fire erupted from the pool of oil. I shut the doors and prayed that there would be enough heat; it was certainly a welcome relief from the cold, but would it be enough to make the steam we needed? In about seven minutes, the needles on the pressure gauges began to climb higher.

"C'mon, Sweetheart...!" I said, coaxing the Corsair_with a gentle voice, "You can do it! Let's get that steam up!" All the while, the fire was raging in the firebox, but it had been built to withstand those temperatures, so I wasn't concerned about it melting. Finally, the needles had climbed up to a satisfactory pressure, so I eased the flow of oil and looked out the window. Sure enough, a healthy plume of steam was rising from the stack. "Yes!" I cheered, "Oh she lives! She lives!" With the _Corsair steaming again, it was time to move on; I released the brakes and we set off up the mountain again. Our train had been cut to half its size, but I was going to see every last bit of medicine and every last toy delivered.

*****

In another few minutes we were at the top of the mountain. It certainly helped that we had shed some weight by ditching the last five cars. I was proud of my baby girl for making it up these mountains; proof positive that steam engines still had it in them to do incredible things. Still, ahead lay the most dangerous stretch of Jagged-tooth Pass; Monster Bridge. Now... I'm guessing most of you are wondering exactly how a bridge could have anything to do with monsters, right? Well it's a bit complicated; Monster Bridge was an arch bridge that spanned half a mile across a valley in the Rockies. It helped connect the east end of Jagged-tooth Pass with the west end. The bridge also carried water pipes along the arches to help transport fresh water to the prospecting camps. Even when the communities were abandoned, there was still a bit of water left in those pipes. In the winter, the pipes would freeze, and large icicles would hang down from them. In an arch pattern, these icicles looked like fangs in the gaping maw of a monster; hence the name Monster Bridge. The bridge also carried the railroad tracks, and crossing it was a dangerous business. Yes there were guard rails and grooved tracks to minimize the chances of derailing but that didn't change the fact that it was five hundred feet above the rock-strewn valley. If you took the bridge slowly, you were tempting fate; if you took the bridge at speed, you had signed your death certificate.

My heart was in my throat as I approached Monster Bridge; I could only imagine what the icicles below looked like. With just a small headband light to illuminate the cab, I had to constantly look at all the gauges individually to make sure the Corsair had enough steam to keep her rolling. At the foot of the bridge, we had slowed to ten miles an hour; I figured that would be a reasonable speed at which to cross. Suddenly, a pair of deer appeared on the track in front of me. Without thinking, I blew the whistle to alert them. The deer bolted, and for a moment I was relieved; but then... I heard the rumble. I dashed to the other side of the cab and looked at the high mountains that formed the east end of the valley. Through the darkness, I could see a wave of snow come loose from the peaks and begin to tumble down towards the valley; I had started an avalanche. Forgetting the speed limit, I opened the throttle to full steam and dumped sand onto the tracks. Faithful as ever, the _Corsair_dug into the sand and picked up her pace; in six seconds she was up to forty miles an hour. Rather than check on the avalanche, I focused on getting the train off the bridge before the snow struck the sides of the arch. It seemed like a half-hour, but it was only half a minute before we reached the other side of the valley. As the last car cleared the bridge, I sighed with relief.

"Nicely done, Old girl..." I praised my engine, "We're through the worst of it. From here, it's downhill all the way!" Then it hit me... Downhill all the way... We still had to get down out of the mountains, and controlling a multi-thousand ton train going downhill is a lot harder than it sounds; especially when the rails are icy. I sat back in my seat and wondered how we could make it down without derailing. At this point, the Corsair was completely at the mercy of the downhill grade; it would be all up to me to keep her under control.

*****

The hills leading into Jagged-tooth Pass weren't the steepest tracks, but there was a long incline to face, and the rails would no doubt be coated with ice. I had used most of the sand supply to get the train up the hill, so there was very little left to give us traction on the way down. As we approached the brow of the hill, I made the decision to let the snow provide the most resistance; I shut off the glow plow so it wouldn't melt the snow. If we pushed through solid snow without melting it first, it would hopefully slow us down. For me, it would be a matter of controlling the throttle and the brakes to make sure the train didn't stall or derail. The truth is I barely felt the rails starting to slope downwards, but I sure felt it when we began to pick up speed. After letting the train build some momentum, I gently applied the brakes, saving the sand for when things got too fast. We were soon holding steady at forty miles per hour. The glow plow was scything through the snow even without being heated.

"Almost there, Sweetheart..." I said to the Corsair. We were halfway down the hill, but going a little too fast. I sprayed the rest of the sand onto the rails and tightened the brakes. Our speed was cut, and I could almost see the bottom. I switched the glow plow back on and opened the throttle so we could keep going. The tracks began to level out as we gathered speed, and finally a small shack beside the rails confirmed it; we were over the mountains and back on the mainline. "We did it!" I cheered, "We made it over Jagged-tooth Pass! Oh, that's my girl!" I knew in my heart the Corsair was also proud of what we both accomplished.

*****

With the Rockies behind me, I was finally able to relax a bit. Soon the rugged countryside gave way to wide open plains, and even better, the blizzard had passed. The tracks were still covered with snow, but the glow plow was able to make short work of it. At one point I looked out the window, and for the first time since leaving Seattle, was able to see the sky. The whole thing was a deep blue and littered with stars. As I looked around, all I could see was snow covered plains with forest at the edge of the horizon; and then... a strange thought hit me. When I was back on the mountain track, I had been praying that I would get down alive and reach Great Falls safely; but now, for some reason, I didn't want the journey to end. Maybe it was simply because the view was so beautiful and I knew that I might never see something like it again. The final two hours to Great Falls were uneventful; so much so that I had to fight the urge to doze off. At last he lights of the city came into sight. I blew the whistle to signal my arrival; after which I saw several lanterns lighting the way in. As I rolled into the fright yard, there was a whole crowd of people there to greet me and the Corsair; all of them cheering and applauding. I shut off steam and brought the train to a halt; then gave one last triumphant blast of the whistle. The stationmaster was the first to approach.

"I... I don't know how you did it, Mr. Snow," he said, "But you made it through the blocked tunnel!"

"Actually, I went over the mountains;" I said, "I had to ditch a few cars on Jagged-tooth Pass, but I didn't leave any freight behind."

"Good grief!" the stationmaster cried, "Over the mountains?!?" He then addressed the workers behind him and said, "Boys... I think we just got our Christmas miracle!" Once again, the yard erupted in cheers. I have to admit it felt good; I hadn't felt so good about myself since breaking the steam speed record.

"Thanks, fellas!" I said, "Now let's get this old girl unloaded; she needs a rest after what we've been through tonight; and so do I."

"You heard him, boys!" shouted the stationmaster, "Let's get this train unloaded; we gotta get these presents under the tree before those kids wake up!" I started to get down from the cab, and wouldn't you know it? That's when it happened! I had come all the way through a freezing blizzard over an old mountain track, and it wasn't until I reached the safety of the station that it happened. I slipped on an icy rung, banged my lower jaw on the footplate, and fell backwards off the engine. It hurt quite a bit when I landed on my back; in fact... it was enough to knock me out.

*****

I... I must have been knocked out because the next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital on Christmas morning. The first thing I could think of was making sure that the job was done, but as I started to move, someone held me down. It turned out to be a nurse, and it was only then that I realized where I was and remembered what had happened the night before. The nurse was kind enough to assure me that the medicine and presents had all been delivered and all I needed to do was relax. I spent most of Christmas morning in bed, just dwelling on my achievement; it wasn't until noon that a nurse approached me with a strange request.

"Mr. Snow..." she said, "There are a lot of children who were very happy to receive their toys this morning; it would mean a lot to them if they could meet the man who delivered them."

"Sure!" I said, "I feel up to it so why not?"

"Thank you very much;" said the nurse, "Oh, and the story is you're one of Santa's special helpers." With that, she left. A few minutes later, she was back with several children all dressed in their pajamas. "Here he is, children;" said the nurse, "This is the man who brought you your medicine and Christmas presents." The children cooed with wonder.

"Wow..." said a young boy, "Are you really one of Santa's special helpers?"

"That I am!" I said, "It's a big job helping him out."

"Was delivering the presents fun...?" a girl asked. I thought back... back to the freezing blizzard, the dangerous pass, and banging my head. But I smiled and said,

"Let me put it this way; it certainly wasn't easy, but seeing you all healthy and happy on Christmas morning makes it all worthwhile." Then a little girl climbed onto my bed and crawled over to me.

"Gosh, Mr. Snow;" she said, "I hope when I grow up I can be as good as you." My heart fluttered as she said that.

"What's your name, Missy?" I asked.

"Hannah, Sir." she said.

"Well, Hannah," I said, "What matters most is that you take pride in your work, treat others with kindness and respect, and most importantly, always do the right thing no matter the danger. That's what makes a good person."

"Well I'll... I'll sure try, Mr. Snow." said Hannah, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to all..." I added.

*****

And... that's basically it. I was released from the hospital three days later and returned to work. I wasn't going to let a little matter of being bonked on the head stop me from doing my job; in fact, I didn't retire until nineteen-ninety-seven. I may no longer drive a locomotive on the great Northern Pacific railway, but I never forget those days. The Corsair also lives on; to this very day she's still the fastest steam engine in the world, and the only mainline steam engine in North America. Of course the real story of my journey over the mountains was pretty much lost because most were so intent on making it child friendly. Now... I'm sure most of you are wondering just why I took my train over those mountains. Did I do it because I wanted to be a hero? Did I believe that those children were in dire need of help? The answer is simplicity itself... I did it because I was a railroad engineer; I did it because I had an obligation to get that train through on time; or as close as possible. A lot of people told me I was stupid for what I did, but I just ask them what they would have done in that situation. When you think about it, that's what any job is about; getting it done so you can help the people who need you. Being a hero... has nothing to do with it...

THE END