In 1970, I was working the afternoon outside hostler helper job at San Bernardino. The Roundhouse Foreman sent the Hostler, the Herder and me down to the X Yard, across from the depot, to pick up an Alco RSD15 ("alligator") that had been set out by a through train, and bring it to the house.
Santa Fe had built a small, elevated, yard office, next to the Mount Vernon viaduct, enabling the Yardmaster to see engines at both ends of the yard. We had to go right past this structure with the engine. We debated whether we should do it, but the temptation was too great. We idled up next to the little office, fully applied the brakes, put the reverse lever in neutral and brought the throttle out to Run-8 for about ten seconds. Oily, black, Alco exhaust boiled up and into the office through its open windows, and, as we left the scene, "Uncle Bob" Wade, the afternoon Yardmaster was coming down the stairs.
When we got to the house, the Foreman was suppressing laughter. "Wade says you ruined his white shirt. You better get down there and make amends." We drove over and talked with Bob, who was beginning to be a good sport about it. He declined our offer to buy him a new shirt, and we never heard another word about it.
