//------------------------------// // Thunderstruck // Story: A Seed in the Big Easy // by The Blue EM2 //------------------------------// In the station, a rake of 20 Pennsylvania Railroad P70 cars was lined up. A full restaurant car had been sandwiched in the middle of the train, and the on-train lighting was linked up. The luggage had been loaded into the baggage cars at the end of the formation. As the students stood around on the platform, they grumbled amongst themselves. “Hey!” said one. “What is this, the Chattanooga Choo Choo?” “And how are these cars gonna get us home?” asked another. “These things belong in a museum!” “This was how people travelled in the old days,” said one of the PRR workers. “Now if you’ll kindly get aboard, we can get going on our journey.” Several students began to board the passenger cars, and took their seats in the aisles which faced the direction of travel toward New York. “Boy is it freezing!” said one. “Where’s this train going, the North Pole?” asked another. The attendant stepped forward. “This is a high-speed service from New Orleans to New York. The run will take approximately 13 hours, but we have sleeper cars on the train to compensate. Food will be served at 7, 10 and 1 in the dining cars. We hope you enjoy your trip.” She stepped over to the radio. “Alright, couple her up!” At the front of the train, 4859 slowly backed toward the train. Raindrops called Babs back from the rear cab. “OK, 20 cars. “20 cars, copy.” “10 cars.” “10 cars, copy!” “5 cars, brake!” Roger that, braking!” The air brakes came on as the engine slowed to a crawl, and rolled into the knuckle eye with a gentle clunk. An attendant came out and linked up the brakes, and Babs took the opportunity to start the fuel-oil heating system. It would never do to let her classmates freeze, as much as she disliked some of them. Jeffries spoke to her from the other side of the cab. “The fuel-oil reserve will last for approximately 12 hours, so use it sparingly. In addition, we need to switch drivers every hour to maintain concentration. There are four members of crew on the locomotive, so each of us will get at least three driving turns. In addition, when you come off your shift, go to the rest car. DO NOT attempt to act as way watcher, you’ll be too tired.” “Understood sir,” Babs replied. She switched on the radio. “This is 4859, we are ready to depart, over.” “Understood 4859, have a safe trip to New York.” Babs sounded the horn, and slowly opened up the tap changer. The GG1 eased forward out of the station with a groan, and rumbled onto the main line, trundling over the points and onto the outbound track. The speed limit changed from 15MPH to 100, and Babs cranked open the throttle. The motors began to whine and then roar in a suitably noisy manner, the noise in the cab deafening. Babs pulled on a pair of ear defenders to protect her hearing. The current streaked down the wires and into the engines, which in turn fed even more power into the wheels. The speed increased, until they were doing 100 miles an hour down the mainline, roaring past Lake Ponchartrain on the northbound line. An SD40 freight passed them on the southbound track, and the conductor did a double take. “What the? Was that a GG1?” he asked. “Those guys at the transport museum actually got it working!” replied the engineer. The conductor took out his radio. “Dispatch, there’s a GG1 with a fully loaded passenger train headed north, over.” “We’re aware of it, over. AMTRAK has given orders for it to be given priority on all sections of line.” The conductor wiped his brow. “What a crazy day. First the snow, then heritage electric locos. Whatever next, rainbow lasers?” After an hour had elapsed, Babs handed over to Lionel, and went back to the support coach to rest. As she looked out of the window, the terrain slowly gave way from the rolling Deep South, to the Chesapeake hills and valleys of Virginia. Everywhere you looked, people were turning out to see this American icon thunder along the rails, the drivers enthusiastically sounding the horn. Further down the line, a man by the name of James T. Hook was on an excursion hauled by 1218, which was speeding down the line toward Roanoke, Virginia. Suddenly, the special began to slow down, and diverted into a siding just south of Glenvar. “Oh, come on!” he shouted. “Why have we stopped?” “Apparently, there’s a train coming through that has priority,” the conductor told him. “Not another freight,” James groaned. Then suddenly he heard a sound which he had only heard on YouTube before this point. It sounded like a long, slow tuba being played in 3 keys at once. "Jeez Louise!" He pulled out his camera, and pointed it down the line, setting it to start recording. What he saw thundering down the line he would never forget. It was a GG1, pulling a long train of P70 cars and sleepers. It blasted its horn again as it flew past him, and onwards into the evening. “Whoo!” he called. “I got a GG1 on camera!” He then took out his phone, went onto a trainspotter's website, and typed the following message; GG1 just passed through Roanoke! Awesome! Then the reply came back; April Fool’s isn’t for another few months, James. James sighed. He then uploaded the footage he had recorded to YouTube and posted the link; Then explain this! A number of responses came back. Any and all reactions appeared; Holy shit dude! Is this real? Awesome clip! Pennsy forever! Rare catch James! Can I borrow your time machine? James smiled. He had got a truly rare catch, but one last message got his attention. Good shot. I’ll see if I can get a video of a Class 77. The Blue EM2. Mr and Mrs Orange, as well as Sunflower, were standing on the platform at Grand Central Station. Mr Orange had been immensely worried when he had heard the flights and road trips were cancelled due to the snow, and equally confused when he received a message telling him to pick his daughter up from Grand Central. “Where are they?” asked Sunflower. “I hope nothin’ bad’s happened!” “They probably caught an AMTRAK train,” Mr Orange replied. “That’ll take them ages!” said Mrs Orange. When suddenly there came a horn, unlike any they’d heard before. And into the platform, the train did glide. A GG1, resplendent in green and yellow and pulling a long heavy train, an echo of the 1940s and the golden age of the railroad. It came to a stop, and the brakes came on as the generators hummed. And out of the cab, who should step other than- Babs, Tender, Raindrops, Featherweight, and Silverstream, followed by Lionel Jeffries. All of them were grinning from ear to ear. “Babs!” called Sunflower. “Yer OK!” “Hey, nice to see ya too!” Babs replied. Then a reporter stepped forward, and motioned to the camera. “I’m from the news,” he said, “and was wondering if I could interview you.” “Sure thing,” Babs replied. The reporter motioned the camera to start rolling. "And this was the spectacular moment that a passenger train arrived in Grand Central Station, pulled by an engine not seen in nearly 30 years. The machine, Pennsylvania Railroad GG1 no 4859, was last seen running in 1979, but today pulled a nonstop train from New Orleans to New York City. We go now to interview the driver.” He began to speak again. “So, Miss Seed, what gave you the idea to restore the engine?" “Well sir,” Babs replied, “our flight was called off due to snow and the roads were blocked. But you can always rely on the railroad to save the day." "How hard was it to get the engine working again?" The reporter asked. "It was tough, as we had to replace some parts in the traction motors which were corroded due to age. But we had help. Veteran engineers got the engine running again." "Former Pennsylvania employees?" "Yep. Without them we'd still be stranded in N'awlins." Babs indicated to Lionel. The reporter smiled. "So, there you have it. A truly incredible story, work against the odds, and a girl who is truly a credit to us all." He indicated to her. “Keep an eye out for yourself on the national news tonight.” Babs smiled, and walked into the arms of her parents. “That was amazing!” her mother cried. “I always knew from the day you were born that you would...restore an old electric train and drive it to New York,” her father faltered. “Those engineerin’ skills really did come in handy,” smiled Sunflower. And thus, Babs was happy, as once again had she come up against the odds and emerged victorious. Truly it was a glorious day for her, a glorious day for her friends, and a glorious day for the men and women of the Pennsylvania Railroad.