I was a Signal Maintainer for the Norfolk & Western just before the new name of Norfolk Southern working the Chicago Ridge South territory. It was Holloween night, 1981 and the wife and I were at home watching horror movies. Around 11:30 that night, I got a call that there was a track indication at Palos Park. Well crap. I went to my office, the old Chicago Ridge train station at that time, and gathered a track battery along with a meter and drove out to Palos Park. I knew my territory pretty well so I decided to start checking the voltage on the tracks at 131st street and walk south to Orland Park. It was a cool and windy night with little moonlight. Since the flashers were not flashing when I approached, that told me that the north and south bound grade crossing approaches along with the island circuit still had power so I would have to walk a little ways to clear the north bound approach circuit to take a voltage reading across the rails. Oak Hill cemetary is on the west side of the tracks and I was thinking to myself, of all nights to be by this place after watching several horror movies already. As I discovered the insulated joints with my flashlight, I knelt down to take a reading. Setting my flashlight down on the ground in front of me, I reached around to get my meter. All I heard was the wind blowing and the rustling of leaves. Just as I touched the meter leads to the rail, from behind me, a hound dog let out one heck of a wail. That wail was matched and beaten by my wail. I am not sure what went higher, me or my meter. It took me a few minutes to recompose myself just to see that stupid dog sitting there looking at me. My first thought was to ring its neck. Especially when I saw that my meter was broken. But, I love animals to much so the worst I could do was kneel down and pet him. Then I cursed at him and then pet him some more. I walked back to the car and got my old meter and started over again. This time, the dog and I walked together. The track battery had failed and had to be replaced on the circuit where I was attempting to take the reading the first time. The hound stayed with me the whole time for whatever reason. I lost it when he put his paws up the edge of the battery tub where the track batteries are kept and looked in while I was replacing the battery. I got the feeling he thought he was my supervisor. He walked with me back to the car and as I was packing away my stuff he gave a muffled bark, turned and walked away. I left Chicago Ridge and the railroad in 1983. I do feel, at times, that was one of the biggest mistakes I made as a young man. But then again, I would not be where I am today if I had stayed.
|