When I was hired as a Fireman by Santa Fe, there was a 17-year gap in seniority between myself and the man four numbers above me. As a result of that and the hiring of a number of men junior to me, I was able to hold road freight assignments at San Bernardino after less than a year. The railroad had not hired me for charity purposes. A change in the Railroad Retirement system was going to allow earlier retirement, and Santa Fe saw that they did not have enough Firemen to promote to Engineer, which then required three years of road service.
So, I frequently worked the Wilmington Turns, which went to Los Angeles Harbor and returned immediately, and the SDX/SBX, a daily pair of trains from San Bernardino to San Diego and return. These trains frequently encountered thick coastal fog during part of the trip, at any time of the year, and it was a nightly occurrence in spring and fall. As a result of Engineers who were willing to help me learn to run an engine, I got experience running in fog and not getting lost.
I was holding a regular assignment on the SDX/SBX with an Engineer who had seniority dating to 1936 -- it took as much Engineer seniority to hold that assignment as it did for passenger service -- when he went on vacation and another 1936 Engineer named Joe Sutton filled the vacancy. Sutton was a friendly fellow in his late 50s with a much younger wife and young children, and was often not well-rested when he came to work. He was always willing to let a Fireman run the engine for him so that he could get some rest. About halfway to San Diego, he offered to trade seats with me and we arrived in San Diego at dusk. The SBX was made up and ready, so, while a switcher handled our waycar, we changed ends on the locomotive consist and tacked it onto our train. "Well, young man, ya wanna take her home?" asked Sutton. I had no objection to that and we were out of San Diego with enough time to make the trip as long as we moved right along.
The head end Brakeman went immediately to the second locomotive (which meant he was going to sleep), and Sutton, in the Fireman's seat was "out" before we hit Old Town. About 45 minutes later he came to, and realized that we were in pea soup fog. He sat upright and asked where we were. "By Solana Beach two minutes ago, Joe," I replied. He was still little edgy about being in the fog with a Fireman with whom he had only worked a couple of trips. "How fast are we going?" Sutton wanted to know. "Sixty," was the reply as I dimmed the headlight just before a block signal appeared out of the gloom and whizzed past. "Oh, fine, fine, young man. Just let me know if you need anything," said Sutton, as he drifted back to sleep.
All he cared about was that we were making the full authorized speed limit in the fog.
