291209 - The Fast Mail

 

The Empire Builders broadcast of December 9, 1929, featured one of the Great Northern Railway’s most notable trains – the “Fast Mail.” This train carried mail under contract to the United States Postal Service. It was such a high priority train that it was delayed for no other train on the system. In an article about another legendary and high-priority train of the GN, the Silk Train, author Gerald Iseminger wrote:

In fact, the GN's No. 27, the fast mail running between St. Paul and Seattle, took precedence over all trains. On those infrequent occasions when a misguided dispatcher ordered No. 27 onto a siding to allow a silk train to pass, Vice-President Jenks demanded an explanation and issued a reprimand. Jenks insisted that "nothing on the railroad" take precedence over No. 27.

[Minnesota History, MNHS, Spring 1994. Pgs. 16-31]

The press release for this broadcast explained the basis of the radio story:

The Great Northern’s Fast Mail, with its cargo of hopes and fears, happiness and sorrow, tragedy and romance, speeds through the Empire Builder’s program of December 9th to unite two lovers separated by the width of the continent.

It is a romance of service. Through summer’s storm and wintry blizzard plunges the Fast Mail running on the fastest schedule of any long distance train and overcoming all obstacles so that the mail gets through on time.

In the story a special delivery letter reunites two lovers who reside in Seattle and New York respectively. Time and distance have almost broken this romance when a fortunate meeting and the subsequent mailing of the all-important letter brings happiness to both.

Bob MacGimsey, the harmony whistler, and Andy Sannella’s orchestra have important parts in this program and the adaptation of mail train noises to radio broadcasting will provide an unusual feature.

The story is a romantic tragedy. If Joe were a gardener, his plants would all be withered and the flower beds overrun by weeds. You see, Joe loves Alice. Alice loves Joe. They both lived in New York, but Joe decided to head out to Seattle for a business opportunity. It was Joe’s intent to establish himself in his line of business (whatever that might be – the story does not specify) and then presumably send for Alice to come out to Seattle and be his bride.

Apparently, Joe got so caught up in making his pile of riches that he neglected poor Alice – even failing to write to her consistently enough. In the face of this waning attention from Joe, Alice seems to have watched the “ties that bind” become frayed and weakened.

So it was that Joe came back to New York to fetch Alice, but learned that he was too late. Another man by the name of Beverly (uncommon as a man’s name now, but not so uncommon then) entered Alice’s life, and they became engaged. This sad twist for Joe played out on the air:

(Sentimental Music)

JOE:       Well, goodbye, Alice.

ALICE:   Goodbye, Joe … I – I’m sorry.

JOE:       Oh, don’t be sorry. Everything has to come to an end sometime. And things can’t always have a happy ending.

ALICE:   It’s not that I don’t – care – you know that, Joe. Outside of Bev, I like you better than anyone else in the world. But you’ve been away for years, and – I didn’t know.

JOE:       I thought you knew. I thought you understood when I first went out to Seattle – why I went. I didn’t have much money then, and without money I didn’t feel that – that I could ever have you. That was everything to me.

ALICE:   It was everything to me, Joe – until you chose to pack up and go west. And then the letters didn’t come so often …

JOE:       I was impatient. And I accomplished more than I ever could have done if – if I hadn’t had a goal. A lot of times I was simply too busy to write. Things were beginning to break my way. I was making money. Not because I was so crazy about money. I was building a future for us, – and oh, well, there’s no use talking about it now. A man shouldn’t expect everything.

ALICE:   Well I suppose if I was instrumental in your getting so outlandishly rich, then I’ve served some purpose!

JOE:       Rich? Yes, I suppose I am – but it isn’t much fun. … When … uh … when is the wedding?

ALICE:   The first of next month. Beverly said he wanted it on the first so it would be easier for him to remember the anniversaries.

JOE:       (laughing)  He’s a great chap! As long as I’m not in the running any more, I don’t know anyone I’d rather see you marry than Beverly Latham.

After his aw-shucks-I-guess-that-didn’t-work-out exchange with the woman he loved, Joe hopped the next train west and returned to Seattle. It was there that Joe bumped into the Old Timer, and they got to chatting about Joe’s biplane. Joe then explained that he had recently been in New York, where he met up with Alice (whose father the Old Timer used to know). Joe explained that Alice was soon to wed Mr. Beverly Latham. Suddenly, Joe thought of a favor that he wanted to ask of the Old Timer.

JOE:       You see – Alice and I were kids together, and I’ve always wanted to sort of keep an eye on her – see that she gets along all right, you know. Her parents are dead, and I was thinking – if anything ever happens to me – an accident, or anything like that – would you mind keeping in touch with her – see that she’s taken care of – you know what I mean.

Foreshadowing being what it is in a 30-minute radio drama, I hope you’re not becoming too attached to the character of Joe. But at such a potentially morose point in the story as this, it’s time for a “squirrel moment” to distract us (and draw our attention to some renewed, subtle advertising to entice easterners to visit Seattle).

As Joe and the Old Timer continued their conversation, Joe perked up at the sound of music. The Old Timer noted that it was coming from the orchestra playing out on the steamer President McKinley, one of the fast ships of the Admiral-Oriental Line.

 

The "President McKinley" of the Admiral-Oriental Line. From the collection of Björn Larsson [http://www.timetableimages.com/maritime/index.htm]

 

PIONEER:            Why, that’s comin’ from the boat out there in Puget Sound. See? There’s th’ President McKinley nosin’ ‘er way into the docks, with th’ ship’s orchestra tootin’ away. Goes nice with that sunset, don’t it?

JOE:                      Great!

PIONEER:            Pretty as a picture, this view here. A man doesn’t know what a real sunset is till he comes out to Seattle and sees one on the Pacific.

JOE:                      Say, if a fellow could just take this plane and fly right into that sunset – you know – just fly west and keep going.

Uh-oh. I’m not liking the sound of that. There’s not much west of Seattle, after overflying the Olympic Peninsula on an airplane’s tank of gas, but the Pacific Ocean. And lots of it.

Admiring the sunset over Puget Sound must have helped the Old Timer work up an appetite. He suggested to Joe that they take in dinner at the Olympic Hotel. Joe agreed, but asked the Old Timer to go on ahead, telling him he’d catch up in a few minutes. Joe needed to chat with his airplane mechanic for a few minutes.

 

 

Joe got the ear of his mechanic, Tom, and explained some modifications he needed for a flight he would be making in a few days:

JOE:       (In Subdued voice) Listen, Tom. I’m taking off on a big jaunt Friday morning, and I want you to get my ship in shape for a long hop. I want to carry a lot of extra gas and oil – and yes, some grub too, I suppose. You’ll have to put on a couple of wing tanks, and say – put a couple of emergency tanks in back of the pit, too.

TOM:     (Up) Say, where you gonna fly to – the moon?

JOE:       Oh, maybe the moon, maybe the sun. Anyway, keep mum about it, will you? I’m not sure just where I’m going, and I don’t want to be bothered with a lot of questions from everybody.

Joe! Joe! Joe!  . . . what in the world are you thinking . . . ?

Meanwhile, back in New York, it’s just four days before the blessed event – a wedding between Alice and Bev, her fiancé. Latham came by to see her and bring her a nice bouquet of flowers, but he noticed a disconcerted look on Alice’s face. When pressed about it, Alice confessed her lingering feelings for Joe, whom she had dismissed with no hope of rekindling their romance.

LATHAM:             Alice! Surely you can’t mean it! Four days before our wedding –

ALICE:                  I know, Bev. That’s why I’m telling you all this before it’s too late. I told Joe how things were – I sent him away. Oh, I feel so wretched about it all!

LATHAM:             Do you mean, Alice, that you – don’t want the wedding?

ALICE:                  Oh, can’t we postpone it, or something? You’ve always been a good friend to me, Bev. But it wouldn’t be fair to you if I married you, feeling as I do.

LATHAM:             I understand. I – I’m glad you found it out in time. What do you want me to do?

The fickle Miss Alice fell back to past practice and dismissed Latham, too. “Stick with what you’re good at,” I guess.

ALICE:                  Oh, can you ever forgive me? It’s not very sporting of me, I know –

LATHAM:             No, no, Alice. It’s quite all right. It’s the only thing to do – now.

ALICE:                  It’s decent of you, Bev – to take it this way.

It occurs to me that Latham’s name might be misspelled. Seems like it should be “Milquetoast.”

LATHAM:             Oh, no. It was all too good to be true anyhow. But now, what about you – and Joe?

ALICE:                  I don’t know. I think I’ll write him a letter – today – and tell him how things stand.

Gosh, if only they all had smartphones, with unlimited texting. Except, of course, they didn’t. What they did have in 1929 was the Great Northern Railway’s “Fast Mail” train.

Pulled by a mountain-class P-2, Train Number 27, the westbound Fast Mail, departed St. Paul after taking on all the mail transferred from the east, and then steamed out for the coast. The scheduled arrival time in Seattle, two days later, was 6:15 a.m. For many decades, the U.S. Postal Service relied on the nation’s railroads to deliver a tremendous quantity of mail. One of the advantages to moving mail this way was that the mail didn’t have to be fully sorted before it was delivered to the railroad – most of the mail was sorted on specially-modified baggage cars while the train was traveling across the country.

In our story, Alice’s letter to Joe was put on the Fast Mail, and even though they left St. Paul behind schedule, they did all in their power to make up time. A postal service employee named Mr. Curtiss rode the Fast Mail, and requested to join the engineer and fireman up in the locomotive cab. Curtiss got to shooting the breeze with the engineer, which of course gave the listening audience a brief primer on the nature of mail trains.

CURTISS:             How long you been running the fast mail, Mr. MacQuire?

ENGINEER:          Goin’ on seventeen years now.

CURTISS:             Seventeen years! I’d of thought you’d of had one of those crack passenger trains like the Empire Builder or the Oriental Limited before now.

ENGINEER:          Me! Pshaw! Say, I wouldn’t trade my old string of mail cars back there for all the Pullmans in the world.

CURTISS:             I can’t understand that. It seems to me there’d be a lot more thrill – and what you might call romance – with a train load of people behind your engine – rather than just mail sacks.

ENGINEER:          Now that’s just where you’re foolin’ yourself, Mr. Curtiss. There’s more romance riding behind me every day. Hey, Andy, how’s the board?

FIREMAN:            Green, Mac.

ENGINEER:          As I was saying, there’s more romance in that string of mail cars every day … more than … Why, lots’a times folks get these letters just in the nick of time – letters that carry money to someone that needs it – letters from sons and daughters to the folks at home – letters that keep lovers from gettin’ lonesome – Christmas things for the kids. There’s real romance for you – and a lot of happiness – riding in those twelve mail cars – and most of it depending on us a gettin’ it through on time. ‘Course, back there there’s some disappointments too …

Well, Friday morning arrived, and the Old Timer stopped by Joe’s hotel to pay him a visit. He learned that Joe had already departed, having taken a taxi out to the airfield. The Old Timer quickly asked for another taxi to be summoned, and the doorman asked him to take a special delivery letter to Joe which had just arrived minutes before.

Just as Joe started up his biplane and was preparing to take off, the Old Timer came puffing up and stopped him.

PIONEER:            (Off) Hey, Joe! Joe! Wait a minute!

JOE:                      Hel-lo! Well, where’d you come from, Old Timer?

PIONEER:            Say, you son-of-a-gun, where you headin’ for in that flyin’ machine?

JOE:                      Oh, nowhere at all. … just  - - - nowhere.

PIONEER:            Well, here’s a letter came for you. I picked it up at your hotel and brought it along.

JOE:                      Oh lord! Business to the last!

PIONEER:            This don’t look like business to me. It’s from th’ St. Regis Hotel in New York, an’ it looks like a woman’s handwritin’.

JOE:                      What’s that? Let’s see it!

PIONEER:            (Chuckling) I kinda thought you’d read that letter.

JOE:                      Old Timer, you don’t know how grateful I am for bringing me this letter. … Well, I’m off now! Goodbye, old man! Goodbye, everybody!

PIONEER:            Hold on, here! You haven’t said where you was goin’.

JOE:                      Tomorrow night you can reach me at the Lowry, St. Paul. Sunday, at the St. Regis, New York!

Happy day. In the end, true love won out again, thanks in no small part to the Great Northern Railway’s speedy and dependable Fast Mail.

Unless, of course, Alice spent those days with Joe and the letter in transit falling in love with the butcher or something.

Sigh.

Good luck, Joe – you might need it.

POSTSCRIPT:

Radio station KDKA in Pittsburgh was one of the stations on which Empire Builders aired. Here is the news blurb that appeared in the Pittsburgh Press the day before the broadcast. I assume this represents the content of an NBC press release, as the one quoted above does not contain any of the copy shown here, but does indicate it was issued by Harold M. Sims of the Great Northern Railway.

Pittsburgh Press, December 8, 1929