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Norbert Angell III |
By Norbert Angell III
It was a typical morning, early to rise, coffee
on, a quick glance of the morning edition. The obits were always the last stop,
just to make certain I wasn’t in there and that I did, indeed, need to continue
the day.
I gasped, felt sad, then for the first time in
my life, felt relief for another’s passing. It was an instant of pain that was
fleeting and welcomed. He was finally going to rest in the peace that he so
much deserved. His suffering had been within, alone, and self-imposed, because
he couldn’t feel anything else but pain.
He was my mentor. He helped me learn the craft
of fireman, handling light locomotives around the yards. Later he helped me
polish the skills of operating the heaviest of trains, with grace and finesse.
He was selfless. We thought of him as a folk hero for his giving of a kidney to
an ailing sibling in a time when it was unheard of. He sacrificed greatly in
his personal life for that act, but was convinced it was just needed.
He was an incredible engineer. He could handle
anything and always made it look easy. He never once fudged on a rule or
neglected an order.
It all crashed down on him when he could see
his retirement possibly in the next handful of years. It was a bright sunshine
filled day. He had started his trip at the far-away terminal. He had plans when
he arrived home. He would spend time with his grandkids, home on spring break.
As he rounded the curve, on to the straight away, over a mile off, he thought
he saw silhouettes on the trestle bridge that crossed the dry creek. It was
once used as a water stop in the steam days. As he neared, he knew what was
ahead. He did everything imaginable to stop his train, he prayed, he blew the
whistle to the point of constant tones. He saw that his prayers were not
answered. The older boys had scrambled across the bridge, the younger brother
fell, and then stood up at the last moment, just in time for my hero to plainly
see!
That was the last train he ever operated. That
was the last time anyone saw him on a regular basis. He claimed he had lost his
soul. He knew he could never pass this way, again. Tormented, but now at
Peace…rest my Brother.
Operation Lifesaver is a nationwide, non-profit
public safety education and outreach program designed to eliminate collisions,
deaths and injuries at rail crossings and rights-of-way. Kansas was the third
state to join Operation Lifesaver in 1974. To learn more, go to: http://www.ksoli.org/.
Next week, Sept. 24-30, is U.S. Rail Safety
Week. For more details, go to: https://oli.org/