Post by ztrack on Mar 4, 2018 11:17:53 GMT -5
The following poem was found in the Central Region Timetable manual of Penn Central engineman H. A. Barszcz. Circa 1976. It is a great piece of humor from this time frame.
His last trip
An old hoghead passed away
And whistled off for the judgement day
The trip was the first of its kind he’d made
And we worried over how He’d be paid.
He didn’t know what rates applied
As this was the first time he had died
So as through distance space he flew
He recalled all rulings that he knew.
He could claim no initial delay at all
For there had been no chance to stall
He could claim no time for testing air
For he found he had no train line there.
He could kill no time at the water spout
As he passed no water tanks enroute
And there was no chance to stop the wheels
While he ate about a dozen meals.
So he kept plugging on his way
Racking his brain for some delay
But ponder the matter oh he might
No cause for delay was there in sight.
As last he reached the pearly gate
And registered in an hour late
Then he washed and smoked and fooled around
As he had done upon the ground.
Made out his time in the usual way
Claiming “one hour final delay”
Then grinned as he thought how very sweet
He had stolen an hour from old Saint Pete.
As he followed the path to the pearly gate
He noticed a sign in large gold plate
He read there word: while his spirit fell
If you’ve been delayed you must go to Hell.
Then when he saw that he was gypped
He tried to claim his pencil slipped
And offered all the alibis
That he had used beneath the skies.
St. Peter said don’t lie to me
They way you did to the ICC
You must go below where you shall burn
For falsifying your time return.
His last trip
An old hoghead passed away
And whistled off for the judgement day
The trip was the first of its kind he’d made
And we worried over how He’d be paid.
He didn’t know what rates applied
As this was the first time he had died
So as through distance space he flew
He recalled all rulings that he knew.
He could claim no initial delay at all
For there had been no chance to stall
He could claim no time for testing air
For he found he had no train line there.
He could kill no time at the water spout
As he passed no water tanks enroute
And there was no chance to stop the wheels
While he ate about a dozen meals.
So he kept plugging on his way
Racking his brain for some delay
But ponder the matter oh he might
No cause for delay was there in sight.
As last he reached the pearly gate
And registered in an hour late
Then he washed and smoked and fooled around
As he had done upon the ground.
Made out his time in the usual way
Claiming “one hour final delay”
Then grinned as he thought how very sweet
He had stolen an hour from old Saint Pete.
As he followed the path to the pearly gate
He noticed a sign in large gold plate
He read there word: while his spirit fell
If you’ve been delayed you must go to Hell.
Then when he saw that he was gypped
He tried to claim his pencil slipped
And offered all the alibis
That he had used beneath the skies.
St. Peter said don’t lie to me
They way you did to the ICC
You must go below where you shall burn
For falsifying your time return.
