One of the few important duties that might fall on the Assistant Foreman was getting time on the radio. This involves calling the Central Dispatcher to request permission to place our Maintenance locks on the two switches at either end of our worksite. The Foreman usually does this but he asked me to do it since the Dispatcher was still mad from yesterday when we were 25 minutes late due the spike driver breaking down and we had to finish by hand.
The Dispatcher gave us two hours to finish and made it known that we wouldn’t get any time tomorrow if we were late again today. I promised to be in the clear on time. According to the official Book of Rules we are supposed to use the full phrase "Clear of the right of way" when the work is complete but after several Official hearings on the matter it was decided that all that’s required is the word "Clear".
I had fifteen minutes to get from the far end of the job site back to the nearest switch, remove the lock and make it back before calling the Dispatcher. The Foreman had the small pickup heading in the opposite direction which left me with the big 20 Man Gang Truck to go the mile and half and back again. It was a narrow steep road with sharp curves and the old gang truck had trouble making it around those corners at anything over minimum speed. Everyone else on the gang knew that critical fact except the new Assistant Foreman. As I careened along the roller coaster road at full speed I was checking the radio, finishing my lunch and planning even further ahead when I hit the sharpest corner and the old clunker bounced up once and froze in mid-air with the trailer hitch high centered on the dirt bank.
The back wheels were dangling in the air and I was busy calculating how long I had to get unstuck and still make it in time. I was already giving up on returning to the job site and decided I would call the dispatcher from the siding as soon as I remove the lock from the switch. Several solutions ran through my mind, call for help, try running on foot, call the Dispatcher and tell him I'm late, give up and have a cigarette...but first I must try my best to make it through unassisted.
I took a track jack out of the back of the truck and managed to move the bumper just enough to make the wheels touch the road again but every time I would get in the cab to drive away the jack would slip and the truck would end up stuck again. With one last look at my watch I decided I would be just as guilty if I was stuck on the other side of the road as this one.
Then I threw all caution to the wind like a young 21 year old might do and I put that old beater in 2nd gear and went back behind to start work with the track jack while the wheels were humming along in mid-air and as soon as those wheels hit the road away went the truck and the jack and me all together heading sideways back down the hill but at the last moment a well-placed stump stepped in and held the jack still which finally forced the truck out in the road where it slowly started chugging up the hill.
I hobbled over and got in the cab just in time to barely miss another truck coming around the corner looking for me but it was too late and the world would never know of my near mistake. I made it to the switch and removed the lock with barely a minute to spare before calling the Dispatcher to let him know we were "In The Clear". I spent the next three days with a sore knee from bob sledding with that track jack which is probably still imbedded in that stump to this day.
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