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// Side Chapter 3: An Unwanted Goodbye 
// Story: The Guild of Equestrian Railwaymen: Dual bands of steel through the hills 
// by bucking bronco 1968 
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Warning, this chapter contains images of the aftermath of a train wreck and the injuries involved. You have been warned.


There are few days in my life that I will never forget. And Thursday September 29th 1237 is one of the worst among them. I remember every part of that day like the back of my hoof. 

I woke up at 6:30 to my alarm, just like I did every school day. You would think a 13 year old would hate waking up so early, but I had no problem with it. I thought of it like I was training for early mornings at the railyard. 

I kicked around in my room for a few minutes before I heard a voice from downstairs, “Fire Stoker, breakfast is ready!” “Be down in a sec Ma!” I grabbed my saddle bags off of my desk and hurried downstairs. I got down to the ground floor and turned left into the kitchen to find my Mom, Evening Sun, pulling the last of the pancakes from the stove and putting them on the table. 

Already sitting at the table was my Dad, Brick Arch, reading over the last of the morning paper and sipping at his coffee. As I walked in my Dad put down his paper, “Oh hey kiddo, how you doing this morning?” I smiled and gave him a quick hug, “Doing just fine Pops.” 

My Dad chuckled and patted me on the back, “Good to here, now sit down and eat your breakfast. Don’t need you late for school.” I laughed, but sat down and put three pancakes on my plate, happily digging in. Soon after, my Mom sat down, making herself a plate before passing everything over to my Dad. 

We sat there eating in silence for a few minutes, more than happy to just enjoy my Mom’s cooking. But a few minutes later, I decided to break that silence, “So what’s on you list for today Dad?” My Dad set down his fork as he chuckled, “Not sure yet, I didn’t stop by dispatch before I came downstairs this morning. But rumor has it that we have a big coal order coming through. So I’ll probably be running hoppers for most of the day.” 

He then looked at me with a big grin, “I take it you’ll being hanging around the roundhouse after school since coach gave you a break for today?” I smiled guiltily. Our hoofball team had the day off from practice because we had put in such hard work the last three days, but he did tell us that we’d still have to have a full practice Friday.

But I didn’t care, cause the day off meant that I could hang out around the railroad while my Dad was still on shift. “Yeah, I guess I will for a bit.” Both my Mom and Dad laughed, they were well aware of my love of the railway, so they didn’t mind me hanging around as long as I didn’t do anything stupid. 

“Well, I’m sure at some point I’ll be back in the yard while you’re hanging around, so long as you stay out of Iron Sides way this time, I’ll let you ride along with us on one of our round trips. Don’t need Sides taking out your forehooves again with his shovel.” This time, we all laughed. The last time I had rode along with my Dad, I hadn’t been paying attention and stepped into Iron Sides’ swing radius, and got my forehooves swung out from under me. I at least had a good story to tell at the lunch table the next day to explain why my hooves were all bandaged up. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I said, still laughing. 

My Dad kept chuckling as he got up from the table, taking his plate and mug over to the sink and dropping them in, “Alright, I gotta get to work, don’t want to leave Iron Sides on his own firing up #2718 again.” He walked over and kissed my Mom on the cheek, “I’ll see you later.” She kissed him back, “Have a good run honey. Love you” “Love you too.” 

He then walked over and ruffled my mane, “And I’ll see you at the roundhouse.” I gave him another quick hug, “You can count on it.” He chuckled, hugged me back, and then waved as he walked out the front door. 

That was the last time I ever saw my Father. 

Twenty minutes later, I gave my Mom a hug before I walked out the door on the way to school. At the same time, my father had just picked up his orders and was walking into roundhouse three. “Mornin’ Bricks.” My Dad looked up at his engine, a new 4-8-2 numbered #2718, to see Iron Sides standing in the cab. 

“Mornin’ Sides, you already got the horse steaming up?” Iron Sides shoveled in another load of coal, “Yep, already building pressure. Should be ready to roll in about ten minutes. That is if you give me a hoof finally.” My Dad chuckled as pulled himself onto the ladder, and set his orders down on his seat, “Alright fair enough. I’m gonna check to make sure everything is greased up and ready to roll.” Iron Sides nodded, “Sounds good.” 

Within half an hour, my Dad had pulled #2718 out of her shed birth and hooked her up to their first train of the day. Just as he guessed, it was a string of empty coal hoppers, bound for the mines of the Frozen north. 

Even before the return of the Crystal Empire, many coal mines were in the Frozen North.

Thankfully for him, his job was just to take the hoppers to Vanhoover, much to his relief. He was not a fan of how sketchy the tracks leading to the Frozen North were. At just after 8:30, while I was finishing up my first period science class, my Dad and Iron Sides set off on their first run over The Olde Grade. 

Eventually, Noon rolled around and finally I found myself at lunch. I came walking into the cafeteria to find my friends had beat me there, and were already sitting around a table. I took my seat, sitting down next to Coal Dust and Blow Torch, joining them, Ash Pan, Blastpipe, and Crankshaft to a round of ‘there he is’ and a ‘bout time you showed up’ from Coal Dust. 

“What’s goin’ on guys?” I said as I opened up my lunch box. Blastpipe, who was sitting across from me shrugged, “Oh nothing much. Blow Torch was just telling us how his Dad is getting re-stationed to a guard post in Canterlot.” 

Blow Torch’s Dad had worked for the railway for a few years, before he had decided to sign up for the Royal Guard. He got lucky and was stationed at the small reserve post in Tall Tale, which actually allowed him to still work part time in the backshops. I turned to Blow Torch, “Really? You’re moving to Canterlot?” 

Torch shook his head, “Nope. Only mah Dad is. Him and Ma talked about it and they decided that we’d stay here.” Crankshaft reached over the table, “Well, at least you get to stay here and get in trouble with us.” We couldn’t help but laugh at that. Coal Dust then looked over at me, “So I take it you’re gonna spend the day off at the roundhouse again?” 

I smiled at him, “Actually, Pops might be taking me for a ride in 18 over The Grade again!” There was a moment’s pause, before Ash Pan leaned past his brother and looked at me, “Just stay out of the way of Iron Sides’ shovel this time.” Again, we all couldn’t help but laugh. We all had those stories of doing stupid things that we should have known better than to do. 

At the same time my Dad and Iron Sides had already arrived in Vanhoover, dropped off their load of hoppers without an issue, and were already hooked up to their return train and were lined up and waiting to get the road. They had a simple train, only a 75 mixed freight made mostly out of boxcars, but my Dad could tell that a deep fog was descending upon The Grade. “I’m not liking the looks of this Iron, that fog’s pretty thick.” 

Iron sides looked up from his shoveling and took note of the cloud covered mountain. He didn’t like the looks of it either, “You weren’t kidding. Well, Yard Goat hasn’t said anything about the line being closed yet. I say we just take it slow and keep a close eye on the signals.” My Dad looked back up at The Grade, “Good point. It’s not like this is the first time we’ve ran through fog. Good old Smokeys’ living up to their name.” 

Iron laughed as the single in front of them dropped to green, and my Dad opened the regulator once again. As they climbed up through the Vanhoover hills, they delved deeper and deeper into the fog. “Wow, this is some of the thickest fog I’ve seen on the hills in awhile.” Iron Sides said as he threw another shovel load of coal into #2718’s firebox. 

My Dad didn’t like the look of things, “You’re telling me. I’m bringing it down to 25.” At this point, they were already on Discord’s drop, and with Nightmare soon to be looming down on them, 25 mph was the slowest my Dad was willing to risk with the steep hill ahead of them. It wasn’t too long before they hit the first mile of Nightmare, charging onto it and into the worst of the fog. 

What they didn’t know was a long coal train ahead of them was struggling against the forces that destroyed all trains on Nightmare. But their struggles against gravity wasn’t the only problem facing them. At the top of the mountain, Semaphore looked out worryingly towards the fog covered grade of Nightmare. 

He had to rely on the sounds of a train coming up the last of Nightmare to know if they were actually cleared of the wretched incline, and the coal train was already 15 minutes behind the schedule. This wasn’t an uncommon problem when it came to Nightmare, but he knew that my Dad and Iron Sides would be coming up behind them. Semaphore turned back to his time table, before looking back out towards Nightmare. “Common Super Heat, get that fat pig up the hill.” 

Back in the cab of of #2573, the 4-8-2 at the head of the slow moving coal drag, Super Heat was in a panic. He had only been an engineer on the T.T.M.S.L. for four months, and he was far outside his comfort zone. He was usually in charge of the fast freights to Hoofington and further East. Though he had taken a few trains over The Grade, he had never been in charge of one as heavy as the coal train behind him. Add onto that the thick cloud of fog and the fact that he was slowly running out of speed on the steepest part of the line, his mind was all kinds of screwed up. 

Rusted Shovel, his fire stallion who was just as new as his engineer, wasn’t doing too much better as he tried his best to keep steam pressure built up as it was quickly used up by his struggling engine. “Heat you gotta lay off the regulator, I can’t keep up!” Rusted yelled as he shoveled as quick as he could. “I can’t! We’re barely moving and we still have like three miles before the summit!” Super Heat yelled back, watching as the speedometer hit 10 mph and kept going lower. 

Six miles behind them, my Dad and Iron Sides were doing fine at keeping old #2718 rolling at a near steady 25 mph. “Should be nearly at the halfway point Sides.” My Dad called as he strained to see the yellow signal ahead of him. He had seen them ever since the run had started thanks to the fog, a precaution taken in these sorts of situations to keep the engine crews ready to stop. “Thank Faust, I forgot how much of a pain in the neck low speed running on Nightmare is. My back’s already sore.” Iron Sides said as he threw another shovel load of coal into the firebox. 

He then stood his shovel up and leaned on it, “I say we ask for a breather before taking another train.” My Dad laughed, “I’m with you there.” They both laughed as Iron Sides yelled over, "What are you complaining about, you get to sit on your flank all day." before going back to work with another round of laughter filled 18's cab.

Ahead of them, things were getting worse for Super Heat and Rusted Shovel, as their train slowed to less than 5 mph. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Super Heat panicked as he was finally forced to put on the brakes to keep the train from rolling back when it finally stalled. Rusted Shovel tried to calm his friend down, “We’ll be fine Heat. We can just let pressure build and then hill start. Yard Goat would have caught the fog and kept any other trains off the the hills. And even if he did, they'd get caught by a red signal” 

Super Heat took a few deep breaths, “Yeah, you’re probably right. We’ll be fine.” They couldn’t have known that my Dad was behind them, as he was the only Yard Goat had let out of the yard feeling that he had the experience to make it over the hills without much trouble, fog or no. Back up in his signal box, Semaphore was getting really worried. Super Heat was now nearly half an hour late passing his box, and he knew that even at 10 mph, my Dad would already be attacking Nightmare. 

Finally, he did what he felt he had to do. He went along, setting every signal before the halfway point of Nightmare to red. He felt that Super Heat would at least be past the halfway point of the climb, and this would prevent an sort of unwanted meeting between his train and my Dad’s. While he had been right about Super Heat, as he had stalled just after passing the 37 mile mark, he was wrong about where my dad was on the line. 

The last signal that Semaphore had set to red was at mile marker 33, the halfway point of Nightmare. The problem with this was the fact that a quarter of my Dad’s train was already past the signal at marker 33. He was now charging towards the back of Super Heat’s train, who’s stalled caboose sat just past the signal mile marker 36, and Semaphore had no idea. 

Back on #2718, my Dad squinted through the fog, “I still can’t believe how thick this stuff is. I can barely see the tracks in front of us.” “Well, how far have we gotten so far?” Iron Sides asked as he threw in another shovelful. “Passed the 33 signal a minutes back, should be hitting the 34 soon enough.” Iron Sides smiled, “Perfect, we can stop next to Semaphore’s box and wait out the rest of this stupid fog.” “That’s a good plan.” But they would never get to enact that plan, as just two minutes later, they had “blown” past marker 35 and were “thundering” towards the 36 marker. 

As they drew closer, my Dad took note of something strange staring back at him through the fog. “What the hell?” “What?” “There’s a yellow and a red light up the line.” “A yellow and a red? How’s that possible?” My Dad didn’t reply as they drew closer to the two lights, and through the fog he caught one of the last sights of his life. 

The back of Super Heat’s caboose. 

By the time he saw it, he knew he had no chance at stopping before he smashed into it. So instead, he did the only thing he could think to do. He grabbed Iron Sides by his denims, causing the fire stallion to drop his shovel. “Bricks what the!” before he could say anything else, my Dad threw him out of the cab. Seconds later my Dad was thrown into the bulkhead of his engine as it slammed into the caboose, knocking him out and reducing the caboose to splinters. 

Surprisingly, #2718 stayed on the tracks up until it crashed into the last coal car. The frame of #2718 bunched and twisted as it jumped off the tracks and rolled, collecting a few more coal cars as the train it had been pulling bunched up, with my Dad being stuck right in the middle of it. 

Up at the head of the stalled coal drag, Super Heat and Rusted Shovel felt their train shift, and the sound of the impact. “The hell was that?!?” Rusted Shovel asked, completely confused. Super Heat was set back into his panic, “I have no idea, but we need to find out. Quick, drop the fire!” Shovel nodded, and set about quickly putting his engine to bed. 

Back at the end of the train, #2718 had finally groaned to a stop, being buried under a number of its own boxcars. By a stroke of luck, the boiler had been spared from bursting, just, but steam was pouring out of her front through the destroyed smokebox. Inside the crushed and growing hotter cab, my Dad slowly began to come to. He groaned in pain as he tried to look around what was left of his second home. “How am I alive?” he muttered, before he tried to move. 

As he tried to push himself to his hooves, he yelled in pain. He looked back to see that his back had been slashed apart by broken glass and jagged metal he had hit as he was thrown around the cab in the wreck. He also found that he couldn’t move his back hooves. “Shit.” he mumbled again as he looked at his torn apart back, he knew he wouldn’t make it too long if nothing was done to attempt to seal up his wounds. 

That’s when he felt something running down his face. He didn’t need to be a doctor to know that he was pretty screwed. That’s when his foggy memory allowed him to remember his last actions before everything had went black. “I-iron Sides. I-I go-ta find him.” He wheezed. With his conscious state fading thanks to his injuries, the pain he felt went with it. So, setting his resolve, he began to drag himself out of #2718’s destroyed cab with his forehooves. 

Slowly but surely, he dragged himself from his wrecked engine and over to the side of the tracks. He looked back to the the mass of tangled steel and wood that had once been his train, but he couldn’t care less about the condition of his train and its cargo. He needed to find Iron Sides. In the distance through the fog, he could just barely see the now badly bent signal that he had passed just before throwing Iron Sides from the cab. 

With a mark to shoot for, he began to drag himself towards the broken signal. The going was extremely slow, but my Dad was a stallion on what he probably knew was going to be his final mission. He needed to make sure Iron Sides was at least alive. After what must have felt like hours, with his strength starting to run out, the signal post was in sight. As he continued to slowly pull himself towards it, he heard a very faint groan. 

He looked around, trying to find where it came from. It then came again, just as faint, but my dad was able to detect where it had come from. It had come from behind a rolled and crushed box car just in front of him. His determination renewed, my Dad began to pull himself towards the box car. After what must have felt like an eternity, he reached the box car. He looked around the end, and found the stallion he was looking for. There, underneath one of the box cars disembodied bogies, was Iron Sides. 

He wasn’t doing too much better than my Dad though. The bogie sitting on top of him was crushing his rib cage, and by the sound of it, he was barely able to breath. My Dad could hear that Iron Sides’ breathing was getting shallower and shallower, as the bogie kept putting hundreds of pounds of pressure on the stallion’s injured lungs, slowly choking him. 

My Dad knew, that he had to do something, or Iron Sides was going to suffocate thanks to the chunk of metal. My Dad was starting to feel faint, thanks to the blood lose from his shredded back. But, he had to do something, he had to save Iron Sides. With what little strength he had left, he pulled himself over to the bogie that sat on top of his fire stallion. 

But, even after reaching it, he realized there wasn’t much he could do. Even if he had been at full strength, he would have been all but helpless in trying to move the heavy bogie. In the state he was in, it was basically hopeless. “N-no, I-I ha’e to do somet-ing.” He stuttered out. His injuries were starting to take a heavy toll on him, and what was left of his strength was nearly gone. He looked at the box car that the bogie had once been attached to, noticing that the gap between the back of the bogie and the bottom of the car was perfectly spaced for somepony to slide into. 

Even with his strength nearly completely drained, and his ability to keep moving quickly fading, he pulled himself towards the back of the bogie. He slid himself between the bogie and the bottom of the car, and then pushed himself up and rested what was left of his back against the car bottom. He leaned forward, and put all of what was left of his strength against it, trying to push it over and off his friend and fire stallion. But, just as he feared, it didn’t budge. He just had nothing left to give. “No, n-no. I can’t leave h-im like this.” He put his hooves against the bogie again, and began to push again. 

Even when his strength died, he didn’t stop. He kept putting all of his weight against the bogie, and to his surprise, it started to lean. Encouraged by this, he kept putting everything he had left against the bogie. Even as he felt his broken ribs coming in contact with things they shouldn’t have, and he felt something in his back pop, he didn’t stop. The bogie continued to tip further and further, and then finally, with one last heave of strength he shouldn’t have had left, he pushed the bogie over and off of Iron Sides. 

My Dad heaved in air through his now badly damaged lungs, before collapsing next to the stallion he just saved. He heard Iron Sides sucking in the air that he had been so desperately in need of, and now could finally get. It was then my Dad learned that Iron Sides was actually still conscious, as he turned his head to look at his savior, “B-brick, that you?” he wheezed. 

My Dad, his strength now completely gone, couldn’t even raise his head, “Y-yeah S-Sides, i-i-t’s m-m-m-me.” he barely got out. Iron Sides was quickly able to realize that Brick Arch was not long for the world. “Come on B-Brick’s, s-stay with me.” 

With the last of the strength that was left in him, my Dad looked over to him and said his final words, “T-tell Sun and S-S-Stokes, t-t-that I l-l-love th-e-e-em.” With a few tear falling down his muzzle, my Dad closed his eyes for the last time. His breathing got slower, and shallower, before he took his final, weak breath, and moved no more. 

My Dad, was gone. 

Iron Sides rolled over, not caring about the pain that came for his crushed ribs, holding my Dad’s unmoving body, and cried. It was then, Super Heat, Rusted Shovel, and my Dad’s brake pony, Dog House, who had finally been able to make it up from #2718’s caboose, found the wrecked engine’s crew. Dog House took one look at the two and took charge, “You two, get up to Semaphore’s box and get the recovery train up here now!” 

The two ponies didn’t argue, shocked by the consequences of their actions, and took off up the hill. Dog House quickly made his way over to his fellow crew members and squatted down next to Iron Sides, “Don’t worry Sides, the recovery team should be here soon.” But still, Iron Sides wept, “It’s too late for Brick Arch!” He cried. 

That’s when Dog House took notice of Brick Arch’s stillness, and shed a tear himself. They had just lost one of their own, one of their best.

It would be just over half an hour before the recovery train showed up on scene. By then the fog was all but gone, allowing them to see the scale of the wreck. While the hit had come at only 25 mph, the lightweight of #2718’s train had caused a massive spread over both the southbound track, and the side of the mountain. Several of the ponies on the train rushed to the epicenter of the wreck to find the crew. 

They were soon able to discover the three crew members they’d been looking for. The only one of them that was still conscious was Dog House, who was watching over Iron Sides, who had grown much weaker and had fallen unconscious. “Are you three alright?” One of them asked as they made their way over. Dog house turned his red eyes towards his rescue, tears long shed and dried, and said only one thing, “No.” 

It was not long before the rest of the recovery train’s crew learned the hard truth, my Dad Brick Arch, was dead. 

The ponies in charge of the remaining injured crew quickly loaded them into the hospital coach, and then went about the task of recouvering my Dad. The mood on the journey back to Vanhoover was extremely upsetting, as all those who knew my Dad had one thought on their minds, what were they gonna tell me and my Mom. 

Back in Tall Tale, Ditchlight, Bulkhead, and High Ball were all gathered in High Ball’s office. They had gotten word about the wreck from the Vanhoover when the call for the recovery train was given. “So, do we have any word on what trains collided?” Bulkhead asked. 

High Ball nodded, “Yes, the coal train was #2573, and the train that had been behind it was #2718.” That caught both Ditchlight’s and Bulkhead’s attention, “Wait a second, #2718? Brick Arch and Iron Sides were involved in this?” Ditchlight asked. High Ball nodded, “Yes, unfortunately. But we haven’t gotten any word from the recovery train yet about their condition. So it is entirely possible that they are fine.” 

Bulkhead sighed, “I sure hope so. The last thing that I want to do is tell four foals that their dads aren’t coming home ever again.” Both Ditchlight and High Ball nodded their agreement. It was then that the door to High Ball’s office opened, and his secretary poked her head in, “Sir, a telegram from Vanhoover just came in with information on the wreck.” “Ah, thank you Miss Quick Quill.” The unicorn mare nodded as she levitated the telegram over to the desk the three stallions were sat around, before leaving the office. 

“Well, go on High Ball, what’s the news?” “Give me a moment.” He said as he read over the long telegram. Once he finished, he set the piece of paper down with a sigh, “Well, there’s good news and bad news. The good news is that Dog House and Iron Sides are alright, though Iron Sides is in very critical condition. They were also able to locate #2573’s brake stallion, Ceased Bearing. He’s also in critical condition, but both him and Iron Sides are expected to survive.” The other two stallions sighed in relief, until Bulkhead noticed the one name that had been left out of the list, “Wait a second, what about Brick Arch.” 

High Ball’s face fell, “They found him next to Iron Sides. He was, unresponsive.” Both Ditchlight’s and Bulkhead’s faces fell, they knew what High Ball meant by unresponsive. “According to what Iron Sides told Dog House, who then informed the rescue crew, Brick Arch was able to save his life by pushing a bogie that was on top of him off. From what the examiners said, he was paralyzed in the wreck. He injured himself worse when tipping over the bogie, and that’s what seems to have claimed his life. Even if he hadn't, they doubt he would have lasted long enough for the recovery train to get to them” 

The three hung their heads, before Ditchlight stood up, “Come on, the least we can do is personally deliver the news to his family.” The others nodded in agreement and stood to carry out their sorrowful deed. 

I groaned under my breath as I sat in my sixth period Equis class. I was struggling to stay awake as my teacher droned on and on about ancient Equis poetry. I looked over to Coal Dust, who looked just as bored. Then, our school’s Vice Principal opened the classroom door, turning to look right at me, “Fire Stoker, I need you to come with me please.” I looked over to Coal Dust, who mouthed, ’What did you do?’ I mouthed back ’I don’t know’ before getting up and walking over to the door, where the Vice Principal motioned for me to follow her. 

As we walked down to the office, I said nothing, as I was too busy trying to figure out what I had done. I had had my fair share of run ins with the school's office, but I just could not think of something that I had done recently that would get me sent down again. As we walked into the office, she motioned me into the principal's office. I kept my head low as I walked in, but as the door behind me closed, I looked up to find to my surprise, my Mom, Ditchlight, Bulkhead, and High Ball there along with my principle. 

I looked to my Mom, surprised to see that she looked like she had been crying. “Mom, Ditchlight, Bulkhead, High Ball, what’s going on?” Bulkhead was the first to speak, “Son, there was an accident on The Grade today. One of the trains involved was your dad’s.” This was a shock to me, “Is he alright!” I asked in shock. 

That’s when my Mom got up and walked over to me, “Stokes, your, your Dad didn’t make it.” 

I’ll never forget those words, the words that forever changed my life. 

I couldn’t believe it, but my Mom was not one to lie to me, so I knew that she was telling the truth. I didn’t want to accept it, who would want to accept that their Father was dead? But I couldn’t just deny reality. However, my next question was not the one they expected, “What about Iron Sides?” High Ball then spoke, “He’s in critical condition, but he should pull through.” 

I tried to bring a smile to my face, “Well that’s good, he’s got three foals to look after still.” I stood there for a moment, before I finally broke down. No pony said anything, as my Mother held me and teared up as well. 

News of my Father’s passing quickly spread around both Tall Tale and Vanhoover. Everypony was shocked by the news, as my Father was held up much like his Father was as one of the line’s best engineer’s. To hear that he had met his maker in what many saw as a preventable wreck, was heart breaking for to say the least. 

Thankfully, no pony held hate towards Super Heat or Rusted Shovel for their part of the wreck. Being as new as they were to not only the line, but The Olde Grade itself, it was seen as inevitable that the fog and steep grade would cause them to stall. No pony really placed blame for the accident at any one pony, since it was a series of critical events that caused the wreck, leaving no one pony completely at fault. 

In fact, the only pony who placed any sort of blame on any pony was Semaphore, who felt that the death of his friend was his fault. With the funeral delayed until Iron Sides had recovered enough to attend at the insistence of both me and my Mom, I made it a point to track down Semaphore. That was easier said than done though, as Semaphore lived in Vanhoover, and it’s not exactly easy to get there when you’re a 13 year old with little money. 

But, I took a play out of Hot Box’s old book and hopped a train that was heading over The Grade two days after the wreck. I hopped onto the back of the caboose, where I sat at the back railing for a while and thought about everything that had been going through my mind the past few days. The true weight of the fact that my Dad was gone hadn’t hit me until later the night of the wreck. 

Sitting at the table with my Mom, staring at the empty seat that would never be filled again had really driven the fact home that my dad was gone. That was one of the worst sleepless nights of my life. I was broken out of my thoughts by the sound of the caboose door opening. “Hey Fire Stoker.” I turned around to see the brake pony, surprised to find that it was Dog House. 

“Dog House? What are you doing here?” Dog House chuckled, “I’m working obviously. Come on, it's more comfortable in here than out on the railing.” I nodded and followed him back into the caboose. I sat down on one of the benches inside, and Dog House sat on one across from me. 

“What are you doing jumping trains again?” “I’m heading to Vanhoover to talk with Semaphore. Word has it that he’s blaming himself for the wreck, so I’m gonna talk some sense into him.” “Ah yes, I’ve heard the same. A couple ponies have tried to do the same, but I think hearing it from you is gonna mean a lot more.” I nodded, “That’s the hope.” 

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, before Dog House asked the question I had heard several times already, “How you holding up Stokes?” I sighed and looked down at the floor, “I, I really don’t know. Two days ago my life was normal, all I had to worry about was passing school and not hurting myself in practice. Then I watched my Dad walk out of my house and my life. One moment I’m learning about stupid poetry, the next I learn that I’m never gonna see my Dad again. But, at the same time, I know how dangerous his job can be, Dad and Hotbox made sure I understood that years ago. So it’s not entirely a surprise, I guess. I guess I really don’t know how to feel.” 

Dog House nodded, “I get it. I felt the same when my Dad had a real close call, but I was 20 back then, so it was a little easier for me. Personally, I think you should feel sad, and I don’t blame you. Losing a parent in any way is hard, I've heard enough from others around the line who have gone through the same thing. Many lost their parents in the early days of rail riding thanks to the shitty safety systems in place back then. But at the same time, I think you should feel proud of who your Dad was. He worked hard and built a great life for you, your Mom, and himself, and in his last moments he saved Iron Sides. Your Dad went out doing what he did best, working hard and being his caring self.” 

That made me think, “So look at the good he did, instead of the fact that he’s gone?” Dog House nodded, “That’s what I’m sayin’. I’ve heard from a lot of the others who have gone through the same thing that it helps a lot with coming to terms with everything.” I sat there and thought over his words, in my mind he had a point. Sure, I was still sad that my Dad was gone, but I could still honor him and who he was. “You know, I like the sound of that.” 

Dog House smiled, and nodded, glad to see that he had at least somewhat helped me come to grips with everything. We chatted for most of the run, until I felt the train dip down onto Nightmare. I looked over to Dog House, who took notice of the look in my eyes. He switched over to my bench, and we both looked out the window. He knew what I was worried about seeing, and wasn’t going to leave me, quote unquote, alone. 

Soon enough, we came across what was left of the evidence of the wreck. The signal post was still bent, many of the ties on both tracks were gouged from the derailed cars, gravel and dirt were messed up, and in many places there were still chunks of wood that had come from the destroyed box cars. “So, that’s where it happened huh?” I asked. Dog House nodded solemnly, “Yes, yes it was.” he said, laying a hoof over my shoulders and pulling me closer for moral support.

The rest of the run was drowned in silence. 

When the train came to a stop in Vanhoover, I got up and walked over to the caboose door, not saying a word. As I opened the door, I heard Dog House speak up from behind me, “Hey kid, good luck with Semaphore.” I looked back and nodded at him, “Thanks Dog House.” With that, I stepped off the caboose and walked towards the yard master’s office. 

I walked in, much to the surprise of Yard Goat, “What the, Fire Stoker? How did you get here?” I smiled slightly guilty, “I caught a ride.” Yard Goat rolled his eyes and cracked a knowing smile, “You jumped a train again, didn’t you?” I nodded, still slightly guilty. 

“Oh course. Well, what can I do for you?” “I need to know where Semaphore lives.” I replied. Yard Goat gave me a quizzical look, “Why?” I gave him a straight look, “I heard that he’s blaming himself for my Dad’s wreck. I’m gonna go talk some sense into him.” A solemn look crossed Yard Goat’s face, “He has been. I’ve heard that he’s thinking about quitting the railway. I don’t want to see one of my better signal ponies go because of this. He lives in bunk house 2, room 7.” 

I nodded my thanks, that turned to leave, before I heard him speak up behind me much like Dog House did, “Hey Stokes, I’m sorry about what happened to your Dad. I really shouldn’t have let him leave the yard, and for that, I’m forever sorry.” I turned and gave him a small smile, “It’s alright Yard Goat. I don’t blame you just like I don’t blame Semaphore. None of you could have known, so don’t blame yourself.” Yard Goat cracked a small smile, “Thank you Fire Stoker, that really means a lot. Good luck.” I smiled and nodded again, before making my way towards the bunk houses. 

It didn’t take me long to find myself at room 7 of Vanhoover bunkhouse 2. I took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. ”Guys, I told you, I just wanna be left alone.” I gulped for some reason, and then found my voice, “Sem, it’s Fire Stoker. I just wanna talk.” There was a long pause, before I heard long slow hoof steps heading towards the door. I heard it unlock, and then it opened, revealing a tearful Semaphore.

He knelt down and wrapped me in a strong hug, “Fire Stoker, I’m so, so sorry. This is all my fault. I could have done more, I, I should have acted earlier.” “Sem, stop, please.” Semaphore, surprised, looked at me. 

I pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes, “Semaphore, I don’t blame you for what happened, neither does my Mom. You were working with what you had, in terrible conditions, and you did the best you could.” “But I didn’t! I waited too long to set the signals to red!” He yelled back, his emotions taking over. “You did the best you could Sem. There was no way you could have known what was going to happen. It was all just, bad luck.” 

Semaphore turned back towards his bunk, “Bad luck? Luck has no position on a railroad Stokes. There’s only actions, and actions not taken.” He said solemnly, hanging his head. I walked up to him and put a hoof on his shoulder, “Sem, please look at this like everyone else. The only pony blaming you, is you. Ditchlight isn’t, Bulkhead isn’t, High Ball isn’t, the other ponies on the railway aren’t, my Mom isn’t, and most importantly I’m not. I’m devastated by the fact that my Dad is gone, but I’ve been around the railway long enough to know how dangerous railway life is. It just takes one wrong move to turn a bad situation deadly.” “That’s what I’ve been.” Semaphore tried to interrupt. 

But I continued, “But, from everything I’ve heard, there were several wrong moves that lead to the accident. Yours were the least drastic of all. You didn’t know where either train was, you didn’t know how close they were together, there was nothing truly in your power that you could have done to stop this from happening. Please, don’t stop doing what you love because of this. Please.” Semaphore didn’t say anything for a moment, before he finally turned back to look at me, “Alright Stokes. I, I won’t.” I cracked a small smile, “Thank you Sem, you’ll see what I’m talking about in the days to come. I’m sure of it.” 

I turned to leave, but I looked back at Semaphore one last time, “You’re gonna come to the funeral right?” Sem put on a small smile, “You can count on it.” My smile grew, I nodded, and then walked away, happy with what I had done. 

It would be a little over three weeks before Iron Sides could leave the hospital. All the ribs on his left side had been crushed and had gotten replaced by metal ones, as they were deemed too damaged to be saved. When he was finally allowed to leave, albeit, not able to walk yet, the plans we had been putting together for my dad’s funeral were set in motion. So, four days after Iron Sides was allowed to leave his hospital bed, the whole town and many from Vanhoover lined the grounds of the small cemetery in Tall Tale. 

I won’t go too deep into the services themselves, anyone who has been to a funeral will know what it was like. Everypony was there as I said, everyone who worked for the railway including Bulk, Ditch, and High Ball, along with the whole town, as I said. At the front of the crowd were me, my Mom, my Grandmother, and of course, Iron Sides and Semaphore. 

My Mom’s parents weren’t in attendance, as sadly they had both past away when they were both relatively young due to different types of cancer, may they rest in peace. 

It was one of the most solemn days the town had ever seen. After tear filled words had been said, and my Dad had been laid to rest, the collection of ponies made their way to the rail yard where a train was waiting. The procession filed into the numerable passenger coaches, while myself, my Mom, and Iron Sides climbed into the cab of #2573, which was at the head of the train. 

Super Heat and Rusted Shovel were not in charge of the locomotive that day. Though they had not been fired from the railway because Ditchlight, Bulkhead, and High Ball didn’t feel that they were completely at fault for the wreck, they had turned down the offer to be in charge of the funeral train. Instead, the crew in charge of the train were Brake Check and Funnel Flare, as they were close family friends. 

The train had been Bulkhead’s idea, and our destination was the wreck sight. It was a long journey, filled with silence, but finally, the train came to a stop next to the still bent signal at mile marker 36. The ponies streamed out of the passenger cars, where they stood by one of the last remaining pieces of evidence of the wreck. Bulk, Ditch, and High Ball cut through the crowd towards the signal, Ditch carrying a wooden cross that had been made out of planks from the box car who’s bogie had crushed Iron Sides ribs, and the one my Dad had past away next to. 

With a hammer provided by Bulkhead, the cross was hammered into the ground. Carved into the horizontal plank were the words, Brick Arch, Father, Friend, Engineer, May He Rest In Peace. Once the cross was in place, the three railway owners backed away, as members of the crowd placed mementos of my Dad at the base of the cross, or hung them from it. 

Me and my Mom placed his spare engineer’s cap on the vertical plank, Iron Sides left the remains of his shovel he had been using that fateful day, so on and so forth. By the time everypony had their moment, the base of the cross looked like the a sorrowful Hearts Warming tree. 

As I stood back and looked at the cross, my friends came up on either side of me. Coal Dust was the first to speak, “How you doing Stokes?” I held back my tears as best I could, it was one thing to hear my Dad was gone, but laying him to rest hit me just as hard as first hearing the news, “I’m holding up.” I was able to mutter. 

I lasted a few more seconds, before I cracked and cried. My friends were quick to surround me with support, and I’m thankful to them for that. We all stood there for a while, not saying anything, until Blow Torch spoke, “We’re here for ya Stokes.” “Thank you.” I said, trying to dry my tears. “Hey, we’re family Stokes, that means we stick together, no matter what.” Crankshaft said. 

Ash Pan nodded, “Yeah, we just gotta watch each other's backs now, and when we start working for the line.” I whipped my face, “Yeah, yeah you guys are right. We just gotta stick together, always.” For the rest of the time we were at the wreck sight, I was surrounded by my friends and the support they offered. 

A lot of things changed that day, for me, my friends, my family, and the line. Bulk, Ditch, and High Ball were quick to completely overhaul the signaling system along the line. They took advantage of a new safety system that had been in development, that signaled to the ponies in the signal boxes what signals a train had past, by setting off a lever hooked to the signaling lever. 

A signal pony would then be forced to reset this lever, which was only doable by turning the tripped signal to red. This would then lock the signal to red until the train had passed two more, which was the safety distance the owners had always been trying to keep enforced. 

This system worked well, and until the Canterlot owners took over the line, there would not be another fatal incident. As for the cross depicting the loss of my Dad, it’s still there to this day. I haven’t brought this up until now because, as you can guess, it’s still a hard subject for me to talk about, even over ten years later. 

The biggest changes however, were among me and my friends. We grew a lot closer through everything, and we kept a closer eye on each other, even more so when we started working for the railway. 

Even with the loss of him at such a young age, my Dad was still a big part of the life I lived, before and after the wreck, and because of that, I’ll never forget him.