Ch 11 - Weeds, trees & turf (from Million Dollar Speedway)

CHAPTER 11 WEEDS, TREES & TURF Mid-May 1979 Mail arrived in the science department near ten-thirty when the professors were engaged in lecture halls allowing Office Lady to open mail without interruptions on the part of middle-aged males.

Office Lady energetically slit envelopes, tacking anything that looked important onto a cork bulletin board. Envelopes with Major League, Big River or Dow Chemical served as reminders of a larger chemical enterprise.

The science building swelled to capacity by mid-morning, reached equilibrium across lunch and emptied across the afternoon.

Racer, however, remained until the last lab student finished.

Nearing Tuesday close-of- business Racer pushed the water fountain valve full-on, extinguishing a nasty sulfur taste acquired during another General Unknown experiment.

Relishing ice water, he absorbed the board’s latest entry. Weed Spray Engineer (Applicant Must Be College Trained in Chemistry), Railroad Exempt Employee - No Phone Calls “Excepted.” Address salary requirement letter to RE Goodtoast (Mrs.), Manpower Dept., MissouriPacific Lines, 13th & Olive Streets, St Louis.

Past graduation Racer classmates sought chemical industry jobs, opportunities originating with Cook Paint and other local firms.

Other graduates enrolled in professional schools, frequently medicine or dentistry, but sometimes optometry or an additionally hard-to-pronounce profession Racer plans to remain there may have been a bit unusual but actually coordinated well with Saturday-based K-L-W duties merging into race day Sundays. Not bad looking, guy, he chattedup his share of college females only to find early Sunday race starts incompatible with Saturday movie dates.

The one-more-race principle prevailed for Racer and dozens of others like him, race participants motoring almost endlessly to St. Louis, Detroit and Chicago destinations, Milwaukee and Kenosha, Wisconsin, too. Racing’s hotbeds aligned were generally blue-collar

communities where first-generation workers easily recalled the grandeur of the Giro d’Italia or the Tour de France.

Seasons was parceled into successive tanks of gas. Thirsty station wagons and bulky vans overladen with bike racks were as costcompetitive as cramped imports because they could transport more.

Weekends saw Kern’s Econoline packed with bikes, pumps, racefood, tires and occasionally, a framed high school photograph corresponding to a recent romantic interest.

While sharing in brief glimpses of glory, Racer’s pal mares fell short of the record book. Teams from the United States designated as international teams were numerically (forty elites, eight pre-team but only four travelers). Given his commitments Racer often questioned whether he could even replicate his previous year’s modest placings. Racer’s life thus pivoted upon combinations of borrowing and improvisation, driving Kern’s van, sleeping in Land Lady’s rent room and instructing Brooklyn’s students. Perhaps weary of borrowed and rented relationships he repurposed one of Office Lady discarded envelopes.

Racer’s letter to the Missouri Pacific Lines H-R department detailed salary requirements, few, employment background, brief and academic accomplishments, top-1%. Affixing two 13-cent stamps, he verified a return: Damian X. Race. Suite 4-C, Kensington, Avenue, Kansas City, Missouri. Should Goodtoast (Mrs.) he was confident Land Lady quickly inform him.

To reach Kansas City’s main post office Racer pedaled beside Guinotte Avenue’s truck traffic before he branched onto the Northeast Industrial Traffic way, passing through Columbus Park.

He biked downtown streets in order to reach the Liberty memorial’s neighbor, Kansas City’s main post office.

With the letter posted his thoughts ricocheted between alternatives of additional attic-living as opposed to whatever corporately-compensated weed spraying entailed.

Goodtoast’ announcement actually produced few viable responses, restricted to mainly liberal artists making valiant, although illogical cases supporting the relevance of music education and French literature to the weed eradication business.

Racer’s salary requirement letter was the only entry in the stack that Goodtoast (Mrs.) pursued. The promptness of her call-back would have aroused concern in a more experienced applicant. She let Racer know the interview would be scheduled in the railroad’s headquarters, amplifying that he would be dead-headed to St. Louis via Amtrak. The Amtrak part seemed logical but Racer questioned the Grateful Dead role in any of this.

While that rock band’s 1978 Kansas City appearance had no effect on railroad spraying, the 1898 Bankruptcy Act did. One of its provisions required the Penn Central and CONRAIL successors to dispose of bankrupted non-rail assets and that oddly including a weed spray trainset.

Since Biblical Adam had been presented with thorns and thistles, humans attempted to limit weed growth but tractor-mounted sprayers figuratively waited on herbicides such as 2,4-D. Major League Chemicals, the largest producer of farm-related substances, was headquartered just a few blocks from the Missouri-Pacific building, leading to odd speculation that tree streets were key to St. Louis success stories. The Missouri-Pacific officed on Olive while Major League headquartered on Pine.

Sunday school and bowling leagues employees of both an opportunity to interact. However the place they did business had a name, Glen Echo golf course.

The corporate slogan for the defoliant project originated at Glen Echo among a mixed firm golf foursome. At its No. 5 tee box, a railroad attorney suggested the repurposed CONRAIL equipment project be dubbed Weeds, Trees & Turf.

Racer used an eyeball-only technique to pirouette around 13th and Olive’s corners, feeling slightly conspicuous there in an oversized suit, one lent to him by Brooklyn. Entering the MissouriPacific’s lobby, he detected the aroma of railroad coffee that merged with breakfast odors of a steam table. His interview was scheduled for nine, midday for the operating railroad but early by executive standards.

The receptionist summoned Ms. Goodtoast who guided Racer to a vacant steel desk where he block-lettered through new-hire forms.

Using a lead pencil, he bore-down-hard, oddly designating George Kern, K-L-W Cyclery, Kansas City as his next-of-kin.

Goodtoast did not share with Racer that his pencil entries placed him within a few key strokes of hired. Railroads typically drew from the working poor, often recruiting beside rural tracksides. She then ushered Racer into a conference room where two officials shared a single copy of his paperwork.

Acknowledging Goodtoast, the older man rose. My name is Paul Edwards, maintenance-of-way superintendent for the eastern division. A second man, one with a single name reluctantly stood, Roadmaster.

Likely aware of his colleague’s conversational limits, Edwards added. Roadmaster Hogg (Hoy-ig) here will own the weed spray trainset but you will be responsible for chemical delivery.

Continuing, Edwards’ comments appeared to trivialize the project’s importance. We believe weed removal detracts from pressing tasks and hope Weeds, trees & turf can save us time, maybe even treating 100-mile stretches 5-6 days per week. We’ve also traveled to Philadelphia to speak to Penn Central’s fountain-of-knowledge on this topic.

Edwards had a question. Racer, is that what you like to be called?

Yes, sir.

But your application lists your legal name as Damian X. Race.

True, but I’m Racer and I’ve never been called anything else.

Well, Damian ‘er Racer, the railroad uses first and middle initials, making you, D.X. Race. Roadmaster, any questions for our new weed spray operator?

Roadmaster’s question involved a single interest, varsity sports.

Did you play sports in college, say football or baseball?

No, I’m an avid cyclist.

The cyclist term generated a sneer. Roadmaster’s response welded ignorance onto arrogance. You’re a Psych-O? No-last-name Roadmaster had worn thin.

Here he came. Bicycle racer, long distance bicycle racer. Fortunately Ms. Goodtoast returned to inform Racer that Edwards and Roadmaster were needed for a meeting elsewhere.

Edwards spoke last. Mrs. Goodtoast, thank you for finding someone with both a good haircut and shined shoes. Take him down to the tool room so he can (quote) draw his MoPac bump cap. Racer question if a

respirator and chemical-resistant goggles might have been more appropriate.

Edwards turned chatty. Good luck, Racer. Look around for someone with a good haircut like you to be your assistant. Weeds, trees & turf needs two men.

Racer sensed Goodtoast wasn’t a fan of theirs. He was correct, at breakfast she had described them as Morons 1&2 to her spouse. She elaborated that weed spraying or even rail grinding were accessory, causing her to question why a promising young guy was being recruited for an ancillary function but she reminded herself that she didn’t initiate hire orders, merely fulfilled them.

Goodtoast oddly arranged a stop ahead of the tool room visit to check out safety equipment, one that might allow him to view more railroad-relevant computer work. Nearing a glassed-in area, the observed three individuals operating a Tektronix 4006. Per 1979, Tektronix devices were credited with supplying blazing fast calculations and also screen outputs.

When a University of Michigan computer science grad opened the door, Racer spoke first. Hi, I’m Racer. Isn’t that a Tektronix 4006?

Sure is, by the way, I’m Val. Self-identified Val person carried a sheaf of pleated print-outs and a green-tint tablet.

Racer continued. We used a similar Tektronix 4015 to plot reaction rates.

Val moved the dialogue in the railroad’s direction. We’re developing railcar switching algorithms. Laughing, Val added. We won’t replace trainmasters soon, though. This interaction pleased Goodtoast, wondering when they might conclude Racer was better suited to fulfill Tektronix 4006 tasks.

Val redirected. From your visitor badge, I see you are joining engineering. They’ve been here, too, requesting time-to-failure calculations for heavy rail. Old line execs shake their heads at our computer print-outs so we have to hand copy data onto these damn’ Eyeease tablets. What was your name, what is it you are going to do?

Contrasting with her flowing discourse, Racer’s message required fewer words and conveyed less meaning. Racer - weed

spray engineering. Val laughed goodbye as Racer continued to stare in the direction of the computer room.

Recalling Edwards’ comment about a second employee, Racer added. There’s a technician at the college, an Andrew Smith, who is assigned there to order supplies and collect breakage fees. His family would benefit from railroad employment. However ill-advised Andy’s popcorn stunt, it had focused attention on the Smith’s needs.

Goodtoast borrowed a line from the 13th and Olive play book. Make sure he has a haircut.

Racer’s hiring, including the computer detour, took less time than the crew needed to back Amtrak cars into a departure slot.

During the Kansas City return Racer stared at a rolling Missouri countryside visualizing how a twelve-mph weed spray process, valves tripping on-off, would soak track beds with chemicals.

Awakening from a nap as they departed Jefferson City, Racer stared at Missouri’s historic penitentiary, shortly reviewing features of Sedalia’s downtown, home to ragtime’s creator, Scott Joplin. Ten minutes after passing Truman’s Independence home, Union Station loomed into view.

Hiking east on Pershing, Racer loosened his tie, draping Brooklyn’s coat over his shoulder as he began a bicycle-less walk to Land Lady’s. His company-issued bump cap provided him with more of a ball player look than Roadmaster might have expected.

Hearing his porch footsteps, Land Lady interrupted Dick Van Dyke viewership to admit him Sprawled across his bed, Racer questioned if his interview had been more than a haircut assessment.

Land Lady’s numbering system initialized in the basement furnace room, making his third floor bedroom 4-C, a companion to currently unoccupied 4-B. Racer infrequently closed his door, favoring a more home-like environment, finding Land Lady’s snoring two floors below alternatively comical, yet endearing.

Missouri-Pacific’s Val wasn’t the only one investigating time-tofailure. Dr. Wozniak questioned whether his college studies might have been better spent devoted to geography. Beyond Baltimore poisonous paint chips, chemical releases emanated from obscure places, 1933’s toxic inverting air layers in Meuse Valley, Belgium,

1948’s deadly coal dust and sulfur dioxide twins poisoning Donora, Pennsylvania and 1950’s deadly hydrogen sulfide from blower flares in Poza Rica, Mexico.

While Woz recognized Jackson and Lincoln as state capitols of Mississippi and Nebraska, he had never heard of Glendora, Mississippi or Nebraska’s Crete. A Crete-based derailment on January 25th 1969 of a Chicago, Burlington and Quincy train released thirty-thousand gallons of anhydrous ammonia, leaving hundreds of steers and handfuls of humans similarly tear-ing and gasp-ing.

The 1969 year also included a similar incident near Glendora, Mississippi where a locomotive engineer’s braking attempt created a mushroom cloud of vinyl chloride. The accompanying report identified trespassing-by-hobos as the cause of three men’s deaths.

Hobos or beyond, the Woz questioned how a small poison center could respond to a major incident, staffed by a handful of pharmacy students, two oddball profs and a KO-W0Z director.