//------------------------------//
// The Beginning 
// Story: Life of an Equestrian Engineer 
// by Railroad Brony 
//------------------------------//

	In 1862 Casey Trotterson, a locomotive engineer, hired his son Berkshire to fire for him at Trottingham. Berkshire was only 13, but he was strong and mature for his age. This partnership continued for three years. Quite suddenly, Casey became very sick, stricken with severe abdominal pains.
The following day there was no engineer to take over the job. One of the officials suggested that you Berkshire Trotterson could handle it if they could find somepony to do the firing. A clerk in the office, overhearing the conversation, volunteered, "Sir, I've had experience firing those wood burners."
When Berkshire reported for duty the next morning, the official called him into the office and informed him that he was being considered to replace his father. "Can you run the engine?" asked the official. Berkshire's eyes lit up. "Yes, sir," came his prompt reply. "My father instructed me how to operate the engine and I have many hours at the throttle." Berkshire's reputation as a level-headed, responsible young man influenced the final decision and he became a locomotive engineer at the age of 16.
The job continued on without a hitch, but Casey's condition grew steadily worse. One evening about two weeks after his father became sick, Berkshire was had just returned home and, as was his custom, he stopped in the woodshed for a load of kindling. As he entered the back door, Mother Trotterson was busy at the wood stove. "Wash up right away, dinner is almost ready," she told him. Berkshire went bent over and quietly placed the each stick in the bin. Lifting the lid to the reservoir, he filled the dipper with hot water and poured it into the wash basin. 
"How's Father?" he inquired as he removed his shirt and proceeded to wash the soot from his face. Keeping her back to her son in order to conceal her tears, she replied, "Better go on up an see him right away, he's been calling for you."
Berkshire finished drying and started up the stairs. "That you son?" asked his father in a weak voice. "Turn up the lamp and sit down beside me." As Berkshire turned up the wick on the coal oil lamp, his father's pale face became visible. Carefully, he sat on the bed.
"Berkshire, my boy, I am going to die."
"Now Father, you shouldn't talk like that," Berkshire complained.
"Don't interrupt, I haven't much time left." Though feeble, a stern tone in his father's voice bespoke authority. "I have many burdens on my heart and I need your help," continued his father.
"What do you want me do do?" asked Berkshire.
"Promise me you will take care of Mother, send your three sisters through school, and pay off the mortgage. Berkshire gave his solemn word. That night, Casey Trotterson passed on to his reward.


By the time Berkshire was 23, his mother had remarried, his sisters had completed their schooling, and the mortgage was paid. Having fulfilled his promise, Berkshire married Honey Drop. Ten children followed in quick succession. The fourth child from this union was named Casey Regulator Trotterson.
At four years of age Regulator imagined that the eccentric on his mother's sewing machine was the side rod* of his father's locomotive. While pumping the foot treadle, his big toe became lodged in a hole through the platform. The up and down motion nearly broke it off. It was a very painful experience, but his passion for the steam locomotive continued.
Though forbidden by his father to come near the tracks, Reggie would often slip down to the depot wand watch the engine as it glided up and down the rails. One day while the firepony was taking on water, Berkshire spotted Regulator hiding behind some bushes. Quickly, he climbed down and walked over. 
"What are you doing here?" he said in a gruff voice. Expecting the worst, Regulator hung his head and started to cry. Father Trotterson took his boy in his arms and carried him up to the cab. Standing on the firepony's seat box, Regulator looked overhead at the dangling bell cord. 
"Go ahead and pull it," said his father. Timidly, he reached up with both hands and pulled with all his might. The huge brass bell clanged and Regulator forgot his tears. The next hour was spent riding the engine with his father. In that short time, he nearly wore the bell out. 
After carrying him off the engine, his father put him down on the platform and said, "Now you go home, right away."
From that day on, Berkshire had but one ambition in life: To be an engineer like his daddy.


Regulator's older brother Berkshire Jr turned 18 in the spring of 1905. He was his father's namesake, and four years older than Regulator. As is often the case, the big brother exercised considerable influence over him. 
The railroad business was booming and the word came through that the North Western was hiring. Berkshire decided to hop a freight to Green Bay and hire out. When Regulator learned of his plans, he begged to go along. Both knew full well that their father was dead set against his children hopping trains. However, Brother Regulator assured Berkshire that he would keep their trip a secret, if only for his own preservation. Father Trotterson ruled his family with due regard to the injunction "Spare the rod and spoil the child."
They secretly packed a lunch and stole down to the depot. A northbound freight was sidetracked across from the depot awaiting a southbound passenger train. In order to avoid being detected, Berkshire lead Regulator by a route which brought them near the rear end of the train. After boosting Regulator into an empty boxcar, Berkshire leaped in and they both moved out of sight. When the passenger train departed, the freight started out on the main line and they were on their way to Green Bay.
Berkshire had ridden in boxcars before, but this was Regulator's first experience. As the train cleared the Trottingham yard, they sat with their feet dangling out the open doorway.
Berkshire figured his brother was going along for the ride, but Regulator had made up his mind to hire out firing, too. Somehow he would convince the man that did the hiring that he was big enough and old enough. After all, his father began firing for the North Western when he was only 13.  The train made several stops and did some switching en route. It was around 6 PM when they pulled into a siding about half a mile from the Green Bay Depot. Arriving too late to apply for the job, Berkshire suggested they eat and then take a stroll around town.
Berkshire had made quite a name for himself as an amateur boxer. Regulator had a ringside seat at all his matches, and Berkshire won every fight with the exception of a disputed draw. In fact, most of his opponents wound up flat on their backs.
Berkshire seemed to know where he was going, so Regulator was content to follow. On their way to the center of town, they were passing through what appeared to be the skid row area. Berkshire stopped in front of a penny arcade. The place had a carnival-like atmosphere and Regulator was eager to look things over. Right at the entrance, Regulator spotted an intriguing machine which dispensed colored gumballs. He pulled out a penny and dropped it in the slot. Nothing happened. Berkshire walked over and gave the box a sharp rap on the side. This seemed to activate the mechanism and a cute little figure of a clown pivoted around and a gumball fell into his outstretched hand. Returning to his former position, the clown dropped the gumball into a trough which lead to an opening in the front of the box. It was worth a penny to see the performance. Berkshire stuck his coin into the slot. Nothing happened. So he gave it another rap, but no response. Then he banged it really hard with the side of his hand, but the clown just jiggled. While all this was going on, Regulator spotted a tough looking character approaching Berkshire from inside the arcade. 
"Watch it Berkshire," he warned.
Berkshire looked up and saw the situation. He motioned for Regulator to get behind him.
"What do you think you are doing?" The man asked.
"Just trying to get the gum I paid for," was Berkshire's answer.
"Well, move along or I'll give you something you didn't pay for." As he spoke, he advanced with his arm extended as if to push Berkshire backwards.
Like a flash, Berkshire stepped aside and unleashed a terrific right that landed on the point of the man's chin. The man collapsed on the sidewalk, unconscious. Two more big bruisers emerged from the arcade and came directly at him. Berkshire moved to meet the one in the lead and caught him flush on the mouth with a haymaker. After staggering backward, he went down. Seeing what had happened to his friends, the third started backing up with his arms in the air.
"I'm neutral!" he shouted. The first victim was shaking his head and trying to figure out what was going on. A small crowd was beginning to gather. Berkshire decided that he had better clear out before a guard arrived. 
Taking Regulator by his hand, he said, "Let's go, we got our money's worth."
They both slipped off down an alley. As they came out the other side, they slowed to a walk. 
"Two up and two down, that's not bad pitching," Regulator said proudly. 
"I would like to have retired the sides," said Berkshire, 'but the last fellow wouldn't go to bat."
As they strolled down the main street, taking in the sights, Regulator followed along and counted himself lucky to have such a big brother.
Just before heading back to the railroad yard, they passed a soda fountain. Berkshire ordered two ice cream cones and handed on to Regulator.