Did you know that it was because of the railroads that we have 4 time zones? Well, I sure didn’t. When America was an agrarian society without electricity, when the sun rose, it was time to get up, when it was overhead, it was noon and time to eat lunch, when it set, it was time to go to bed or read by the lantern. Time was based upon longitude and each state had its own time sections and I think I heard our docent say that Wisconsin had between 4 and 6. This was further complicated because each railroad company had its own time. Sometimes, railroad stations had to have a separate clock for each railroad company it served. And, imagine trying to coordinate several different printed schedules. However, with the growth of trains and passengers, something had to be done. Finally, November 18, 1883 was the ‘day of two noons’, each railroad timepiece was set to the same ‘noon’ and railroad time became standard. So, railroads had a standard 4 time zones. But the US as a whole didn't follow until 1918 when the US Congress passed the Standard Time Act on March 19.
This engine and coal car were so big that I couldn’t imagine that they would fit into the tunnels they had dug for the trains on the Donner Pass.
This first section was one of my favorite sections of the museum. I also liked the section where we toured a Pullman sleeping car and a dining car. We walked into the dimly lit Pullman (named after George Pullman who designed and manufactured it) and immediately felt the gentle rocking and rolling of a real train on the tracks. We could hear the tooting of the train as we passed railroad crossings, lights flickered in the windows as we passed towns and we were lulled to sleep by the soft clattering of the train over the rails. Oops, we weren’t asleep, we were just walking through the car. But they had made it so realistic.
That’s the interior of the Pullman. The lower seats could be made into a bed and the section above them could also. A curtain covered these beds. There was a porter in each car to serve the needs of the passengers. Pullman hired only African Americans for these jobs since he thought that they could do it best - with all their experience as slaves in the old south before the war. Most of these porters were called ‘George’ by the passengers after George Pullman just like slaves were often called the name of their master. Porters, though paid more than other African American males, were not paid a living wage and depended upon tips.
Walter Biggs, son of a Pullman porter, spoke of memories of being a Pullman porter as told to him by his father:
"One of the most remarkable stories I liked hearing about was how when Jackie Gleason would ride ... all the porters wanted to be on that run. The reason why? Not only because he gave every porter $100.00, but it was just the fun, the excitement, the respect that he gave the porters. Instead of their names being George, he called everybody by their first name. He always had like a piano in the car and they sang and danced and had a great time. He was just a fun person to be around."
As we passed through the dining car, I remembered that I had eaten on a dining car once when a friend of mine and I traveled from Rhode Island to Iowa. What a thrill and we felt like royalty.
By the way, we did not pay for a Pullman, we sat in our seats overnight trying to sleep. Others were doing the same thing, the guy who snored, the kids who weren’t happy, and the small hamster which kept running in his squeaky wheel. However, in the 1970’s we were riding in luxury compared to the ride in the 1870’s. Straight backed seats, poor heat, cinders and ash from the engine, and loud. Here’s how one journalist described it (and he rode the train for 7 days straight):
‘ You will be worn out with fatigue, You will be cramped and stiff with the confinement. You will be blacker than the Ethiop with tan and cinders and be rasped like a nutmeg grater with the alkalai dust. You can never sleep a wink with the jarring and noise of the train and never be able to dress and undress and bathe yourself like Christians.’
At 2:00, I asked Gary if he would like to go out for a bite of lunch. What a dumb question. We found a deli which served sandwiches and - is that the Iowa State / North Carolina game on TV? It sure was - what a treat. I got to watch the Iowa State Cyclones while we ate. GO STATE!!
During halftime we walked next door just to check out the ice cream and mini donuts. Just to ‘check’ them out, my eye. At $1.75 we asked for a scoop in a cup. Huge scoops and, when Gary got his, the clerk asked ‘Would you like more?’ Another dumb question.
We sat on a bench on the sidewalk watching the world pass by. When I was done, I went to check out the game, ISU was still ahead and we walked back to the Museum. 20 minutes later, I checked the score on Gar’s smart phone - oh, shucks, ISU lost by 9 points. Too bad. They were a good team and had won the Big Twelve Tournament. Oh, well.
Finally, at 5:00, the museum closed, we walked out and noticed that we had gotten a call from my brother, Jack, in Iowa. We sat down at a picnic bench under a tree out side the museum and called him. ‘You probably already know that ISU won, right?’ Well, no, I thought ISU had lost. ‘Nope’, he said, they won 85 - 83. Sure enough, the score I had seen was not the final score. Oh, boy, anther day, another game.
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