I used to get a bit of grief when I was a new hire from co-workers for being a railfan. Railroaders can sniff out a rail enthusiast from 100 miles away — but I know I was not alone. Personally, I think there are more out there than would ever admit to it.
I was a little too enthusiastic when I started. Over the years I had a handful of new hires work with me that figured out what I did for a hobby. They would quietly ask me about getting a camera out to take a picture. I would encourage them more than anything else. I would say “Sure, but remember the job comes first.”
The trick I learned was to earn respect from co-workers. The key was if you could do the job despite the fact that you loved the job. I have often said, “Earn the respect that you can do the job. They will still criticize, but not care what you do on your own time.” Some would still tease you, while others would never understand.
Take the shot
The company would advertise for employees to submit photos of the railroad to print on 12-month large wall calendars. I made the cut 11 times over the years.
The 1987 Christmas calendar turned out to be interesting. The company had decided it was not going to send the calendar out to employees but only to shippers due to tight budget constraints. Somehow an interoffice communication from management made it to “our” side of the yard office (they always seem to). I was a little miffed as a participant with a winning photo in the calendar that I was not even going to get one.
I made a phone call to the company public relations department and voiced my complaint so that I could get a calendar (my mom collected them). A week later I found a large box sitting in front of my door that must have weighed about 100 pounds. I do not think the UPS driver was amused when they had to carry that upstairs to my door. The box contained 89 of these wall calendars rolled up.
I do not recall how anybody found out but the next thing you know, I got people calling me at all hours asking if they could have one. I remember a particular phone call from a friend who called me about 3:00 a.m. and said “Hey, I understand you got calendars, can I get one?”
After I made sure my mandatory list of family and friends got calendars, I would throw a couple into my grip. If it was a crew that I got along well with, they got calendars. If it was a crew that I didn’t like, they would stay in my grip. I only had so many to give out. It would have been nice to have gotten more so I didn’t have to be so meticulous.
A number of years later, the calendar was no longer the large wall style, but a nicely designed, more compact calendar. Near the end of my calendar career, I had two photos make it into the same calendar. When I received my payment, it was $198.56 instead of $500 for two photos. A personal investigation determined the company took Tier One and Tier Two (tax) out of the prize money. The U.S. Railroad Retirement Board works like Social Security. Tier One is the Social Security component, while Tier Two is the railroader’s retirement.
Well, my co-workers heard me talking about it. All the years of grief about being a railfan and it suddenly shone in a different light. This tax issue only happened this one time; I never had another tax problem after that. I did have co-workers ask if this was true, was my photography contributing to railroad retirement? I would reply “yes.” I had more than one wise guy ask what kind of film I used and could they buy me more.
Twist the knife
On a westbound east pool train (Seattle-Wenatchee), I had an engineer who would reach down every time we passed folks taking pictures. He would let out a big laugh while turning the headlights off. As he was taking great delight in this, the railfan in me came out.
I looked over and with all the innocence I could muster I said, “You know I send pictures to the company calendar contest. I got a call from headquarters the other day wanting to know why all the headlights were off. Were the trains stopped or moving?” I replied, “Oh, they were all moving.”
Of course, I made up this imaginary conversation as I sat there. But I never saw him turn the headlights off again. Mad Dog strikes again! Merry Christmas!
