have been wrestling with the “hot-box problem” for nearly half a century. The rules relating to the matter are and always have been unmistakable. “Take no chances. If necessary, set off the car.”
On June 17, 1908, a freight train, running fully thirty miles per hour, approached my signal tower with a clear right of way east-bound. At the same time an express passenger train, rushing at full speed west-bound, came in sight. From a distance of nearly half a mile I could see that a car on the freight train was enveloped in smoke and flame from a hot box. As an actual fact, the engineman, conductor, and brakemen were aware of it. A brakeman was on top of the car watching the trouble. But they were nearing the terminal, and on a parallel east-bound track there was a train that all hands were very anxious to pass by or “jump.” So, by common consent, they were taking the chance on the hot box, and the engineer “had her wide open.” As the freight approached the tower I could see the chips flying from the ties, which indicated that the melted journal had snapped in two. A few seconds later both east-and west-bound tracks were blocked with the twisted rails, broken ties, and derailed cars. The passenger train, consisting of sleepers and crowded coaches, escaped dashing into the wreck by a miracle,—that is, by a mere fraction of time.
