It's cold and windy in the Texas Panhandle today, so it seems like a good time to tell a story.
In 1993, I was sent to Sweetwater, Texas as Assistant Superintendent, with primary responsibility for the lines lines from there to Temple; Brownwood to Fort Worth, and the trackage rights trains over the former Texas & Pacific line from Tecific to Fort Worth. After several months, I was given more territory consisting of the former Slaton Division from Sweetwater to Clovis, and from Lubbock to Amarillo.
One of the Slaton Division Engineers holding a regular freight turn between Slaton and Sweetwater was F. E. Judie. Among my duties was reviewing about 20 event recorder charts furnished to me weekly, and Mr. Judie consistently had almost no variation in speed on his trains, in spite of the fact that the railroad had mild undulation all the way. This showed that he had exceptionally good knowledge of the road, anticipation of what the train would do at every location, and great skill in controlling the speed.
I had an opportunity to speak with the Brotherhood ofLocomotive Engineers Local Chairman at Slaton about another matter, and I mentioned my admiration of Frank Judie's work. He did not hang around at the depot, and I had yet to see him face to face. "Oh, Frank," the Local Chairman chuckled, "yeah, he takes care of his business, and still has the second dime he ever earned." I asked if he could take a joke, and was assured that he could. So I told the Local Chairman that I would put out gossip that I was looking for him, and see how long it took for him to find me so that I could pay him a compliment about his work. I casually mentioned to a couple of Slaton crewmen that I was watching for Frank Judie, but that he came and went so quickly that I had not yet encountered him.
After about three days, the Slaton Local Chairman called me and told me that Judie had talked with him and was fretting about why I would want to see him. He assured the Local Chairman that he had not violated any rules that he was aware of, and wanted desperately to keep his job. With a straight face, his union representative told him that, whatever it was, Frank would have to ask me.
After a couple more days had passed, I saw that he was en route to Sweetwater and managed to "coincidentally" be near the crew lobby when he arrived. He introduced himself and nervously informed me that he had heard that I was asking about him. "Come on back to my office and we'll talk," I replied. When he came to the office, I had three of his event recorder charts unrolled and displayed. "Mr. Judie," I said," I just wanted to compliment you on your consistently exceptional train handling, and would like to buy lunch for you." There was an audible sigh of relief from him. "That's all?" he asked. "Yes, that's all. I really appreciate knowing that you take care of things every trip."
Frank Judie was an interesting personality. He rarely took a day off, and was the highest earning Slaton Engineer. He was a life-long bachelor who was not a cheapskate, but lived modestly, in a decent, but not fancy, apartment. He had over twenty years of service and, since his only known concession to comfort was a nice automobile, which he bought gently used, he had a boat-load of money both in the bank and invested in a brokerage account. He put his nephews and nieces through college, so that they could start adult life without the burden of student loans. He helped individuals who had fallen upon hard times, and most people knew nothing about his kindness with his money. When I would ride the train on his engine, we passed through two heavily producing oil fields, and I would always pick out a different well and ask him how much that one was producing, and why didn't he paint his name on the pump jack?. He would get an aw-shucks look on his face and tell me, "Now, Mr. Campbell, you know I don't have any oil wells." I'd always reply that my daughter, who was a student at Texas Tech and worked in Lubbock National Bank, said that this fellow F. E. Judie must have oil wells, as he was on a special list of depositors that the bank President was aware of. (Actually, she didn't know Frank.)
He was one of a number of very fine people I encountered in my 37 years of railroading.
