300217 - On Time Hank

I’ve written about Harold M. Sims in previous blog posts. Although his actual job title was “Executive Assistant to the President,” Sims was assigned the responsibility of overseeing the entire radio advertising program of the Great Northern Railway – namely, the Empire Builders radio series. Typically this entailed day-to-day logistical matters, as well as coordination with such entities as the McJunkin Advertising Company and NBC. To a great extent, Sims had a free hand in such things as editorial oversight of the continuities used for broadcast. After all, even though most of the programs were skits or dramatizations, they were without exception part of an overall advertising campaign designed to promote the railroad. The GN’s president, Ralph Budd, entrusted Sims with the responsibility to ensure the company’s best interests were served with each broadcast, and that the content of the shows reflected well on the railroad.

That's Harold M. Sims (standing) in the back of the control booth at the NBC studio.
Author's collection

And why, you ask, all this preoccupation with Harold Sims? Well, it turns out he wrote this night’s story – “On Time Hank.”

Sims traveled quite a bit between St. Paul and Seattle, particularly early in the life of the radio series. Chief among his duties on these trips was to escort representatives of NBC management and a handful of writers. Sims was expected to help in any way needed to access and acquire relevant background and atmosphere for the writers to work with in developing their stories of Great Northern territory. Sims spent quite a few years in the newspaper business before joining the GN, so he was quite familiar with research and writing. He watched the staff writers – and even guided them to some extent – while they generated their story materials. Sims also reviewed the script content and frequently had the writers modify certain details: he basically served as publisher, managing editor, and copy editor. Through all of this intimate involvement with the development and broadcasting of Empire Builders stories, Sims eventually contributed to suggestions of topics and plots. In the case of “On Time Hank,” Sims went a step further – he wrote the story for the show.

Here’s the press release for the Empire Builders radio presentation of “On Time Hank” from February 17, 1930 (which, incidentally, was also written by Harold Sims):

A railway melodrama, with the Fast Mail roaring into the action just in time to frustrate a payroll robbery, will give Empire Builders an opportunity to broadcast plenty of thrills Monday evening. The hero of the story is a dog – January.

The “flash back” technique employed by the “movies” to portray simultaneous action in two or three different places has been adapted in a startling way for this radio drama, and for the first time a radio presentation will carry simultaneous but widely separated and swiftly-moving actions, all easily distinguished from each other through sound effects and the careful casting of voices.

In a quick succession the radio audience will be transported back and forth from the locomotive cab in which the Old Timer is riding, to the bank that is being robbed, and from the telegraph office where the heroine of the story is confronted with a choice between duty and love, to the countryside through which the Fast Mail is rushing westward.

I love the description of the “startling” flashback techniques used in the program, and an implication that the technique was innovative for radio at that time. It’s certainly possible. Being that Empire Builders was such an active participant in the early days of commercial radio, I think there’s little doubt that many radio “firsts” occurred on this series (e.g., the use of self-reference, by incorporating part of an Empire Builders broadcast during the unfolding drama of the Empire Builders broadcast). Even if they fell short of that lofty acclaim about the use of flashbacks on radio, the people behind the series were certainly among the first to accomplish many of the things they did.

As Sims and the other writers for the Empire Builders visited various locales throughout the Pacific Northwest, they interviewed local politicians, educators, historians, and pioneers of the west. They gathered material from newspapers, libraries, museums, and even the Great Northern Railway’s own publications. At some point in his research, Sims learned about a singularly interesting locomotive engineer of the Great Northern, Henry T. Mayfield (1862-1937). After working for the Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy Railroad for 16 years, Mayfield went to work for the GN around 1901. In the succeeding 29 years of operating locomotives for the Great Northern, Henry had earned a reputation for being on time more than any other engineer on the line. “On-Time Hank.” That’s what they called him. Sims was inspired by the true story of On-Time Hank, and he wrote this drama as a tribute to him – and perhaps to all the other locomotive engineers of the GN who kept their trains on schedule.

In this press photo from the fall of 1930, Obed "Dad" Pickard serenades The Old Timer and his hound dog, January. Author's collection

 

The opening scene of the On Time Hank broadcast had the Old Timer and a friend of his named Frank sheltering indoors against a raging wind and rain storm. The Old Timer’s faithful hound dog, January, scratched at the door and barked to be let inside. Frank asked the Old Timer how he ever came to name the dog January.

PIONEER:            Well, truth is, it just come natural. First place, he was born in that there month, and second place his dad had the same tarnation name. Frank, this is January, Junior.

FRANK:                 Junior, eh? And who was January Senior?

PIONEER:            Say, I could tell you a story about that dog!

FRANK:                 Fine! Go ahead! There’s nothing like a story when there’s a storm going on outside. It’s raining plenty now all right. Just listen to it!

(RAIN BEATING AGAINST WINDOWS)

The Old Timer began telling Frank about how a young man named Jim Hardy lived in a little town called Panhandle, located a short distance from the Great Northern main line in northern Idaho. January Senior was Hardy’s dog. The fictional town of Panhandle had a small depot that didn’t add up to much more than a little waiting room and the telegraph office, and modest living quarters for depot agent Mike O’Hara and his daughter Sally. The Old Timer referred to O’Hara as a “lightnin’ slinger,” and Frank asked him what that meant.

PIONEER:            (CHUCKLES)  That’s just railway slang for telegraph operator. … Well, Sally and her Dad lived there in the depot, with their rooms right next to the telegraph office. Sally was a smart little tike – bright on top, and bright inside – and she’d just picked up railroadin’ naturally from her dad. And when it come to lightnin’ slinging, she was just about as fast as anyone on the division. One afternoon Sally an’ her sweetheart – he was cashier of the bank there – was out in front of the depot, an’ of course, January was with ‘em.

With a brief musical transition, the scene shifted in startling flashback to Sally and her boyfriend, Jim Hardy, chatting and getting January to fetch a stick. Jim was frustrated that January kept bringing the stick back to Sally, even though he was the one throwing it. Sally teased that perhaps January liked her better than Jim did. Jim protested that it couldn’t be so – that no one could love her as much as he did. This naturally rolled into a somewhat mushy conversation about how they couldn’t wait to get married, but the one thing delaying the blessed event was Sally’s father being under the weather, and with strict orders from the doctor to rest up for two weeks. In the meantime, Sally was covering for her father by operating the little depot on her own. She suggested to Jim that he come over to the depot in the evening and keep her company. Jim explained that a big payroll for the local mine was coming in, and that he would have to work late that evening. Sally told Jim to just come over to the depot when his work was done, and she’d have hot coffee waiting for him.

Just then, Sally spotted some men hanging around near the railroad’s water tank. She did not recognize them, and wondered if they were up to no good. Jim dismissed them as tramps, and teased Sally about her concerns by suggesting she’d been reading too many detective stories.

Jim asked Sally how her scheduled trains were running, and she said just fine, even though Train 27 – the Fast Mail – was delayed and was making up time. Jim asked her if she knew what had delayed the Fast Mail.

SALLY:                  Hit an auto. … Somebody didn’t “Stop, Look and Listen.” Didn’t hear any particulars. 27’ll be hitting it up through here about 10 o’clock tonight.

JIM:                      Well, I’ve got to be getting back. See you tonight, Sally.

SALLY:                  Goodbye, Jim. I’ll have a pie to go with that coffee.

JIM:                      Good for you! Come on, January. (DOG BARKS)

(BARKING FADES. TELEGRAPH KEYS UP. FADE INTO MUSIC)

With another startling flashback, the radio audience found itself listening in on a resumption of the conversation between the Old Timer and his friend Frank, who asked the Old Timer if he was in Panhandle at the time.

PIONEER:            Lord bless you, no! I was right up in the engine of that Fast Mail train out of Whitefish – that was the division point. And an hour late! W-H-E-W. You know the Great Northern Mail Train’s the fastest long distance train in the world! No passengers and no stops for anything except to change engines!

FRANK:                 Yes, but what were you doing up in the engine. You’re not a railroad man.

PIONEER:            Scatter my chipmunks, no! But I know those Great Northern fellows pretty well, and I wanted to ride an engine, so the division superintendent fixed me up with a permit to ride 27. So there I was, up in the cab, a sitting behind Henry Mayfield, the engineer, and watching the night shoot by so fast I thought we’d pop out into daylight again any minute.

(MUSIC WITH STORM EFFECTS. TRAIN RUNS UP AND THROUGH MUSIC: THEN FADES INTO TRAIN EFFECT AS IN LOCOMOTIVE CAB)

I suspect Harold Sims saw himself as being a bit like the Old Timer. Sims was only with the Great Northern Railway for a couple of years at this point, and prior to that he had earned his living in the newspaper business. So like the Old Timer, Sims was clearly not “a railroad man.” Nevertheless, Sims learned a good deal about railroading on the GN in the preparation for writing this radio story.

In the cab of the Fast Mail, the Old Timer found himself chatting with the engineer, the one-and-only On-Time Hank (and the locomotive’s fireman, nicknamed “Irish”). It’s interesting that Sims wrote Henry Mayfield into the story as the true personage of On-Time Hank, and yet the radio listeners (with few exceptions) had no way of knowing that there was a real person named Henry Mayfield, that he really was a locomotive engineer for the GN, and that his real nickname was in fact On-Time Hank. Sims could have easily invented any name he wanted to for the story’s engineer. It’s very unlikely that the real Hank Mayfield played the part of himself on the radio broadcast – I certainly don’t have any evidence to suggest he did. But at least for the real Hank Mayfield and all his friends out in the Kalispell Division where he was based, they heard his name loud and clear on the radio that evening, and they all knew this was a story about their On-Time Hank.

As the Fast Mail flew along at full steam, the Old Timer commented on some of the signal lights they were passing. He apologized for his ignorance, but asked Hank if he could explain the signal system to him.

HANK:                  That’s all right, Old Timer. … Now watch straight ahead. In a minute you’ll see a light flash on.

PIONEER:            Yeah, there she is – but it’s green. They’re all green!

HANK:                  That’s the way they’re supposed to line up for this mail train.

PIONEER:            My, it sure shines bright. Can see it right through the storm. Means the line’s clear, I suppose.

HANK:                  Not only clear, but it shows there are no switches open ahead, an’ no broken rails and no signals out of order. You see, these signals are about a mile apart. They’re dark until we come to within about 2000 feet of them. Then they flash on and show what’s ahead – until we’ve passed ‘em, then they go dark again till the next train comes along.

PIONEER:            Well, well, just like sentinels standing out there in the dark, all alone, in all sorts of weather – protectin’ these Great Northern trains.

HANK:                  That’s it exactly … Now as I was saying – those signals are about a mile apart the whole way along the main line, and when one of those shows green – that’s what we call clear – it means that everything’s clear in the next two blocks.

PIONEER:            By “blocks” do you mean the mile or so of track between each of the signals?

HANK:                  That’s it. If the signal is green, everything’s clear between here and the second signal ahead of us. If it’s yellow, that means the block just ahead is okay, but that there’s a train in the block ahead of that. And then we have to slow down. The yellow means proceed with caution. But if that light goes red, that means we stop – right then and there – pronto, ‘cause there’s trouble ahead!

PIONEER:            In other words, some train ahead of you?

HANK:                  Probably, but not always. If someone should leave a switch open, or a rock should roll down and knock a rail loose, that would break the circuit and the signal would go against us. Then again, those signals are made so that if anything goes wrong with ‘em they turn red automatically.

On the turn of another startling flashback, the listeners were once again pulled into the drama unfolding in stormy Panhandle, and Sally’s brave effort to shut the open window.

(FAST MUSIC WITH TRAIN UP AND OUT. CHANGE TO STORM MOTIF. WIND EFFECTS OFF. TELEGRAPH KEYS THROUGHOUT SCENE)

SALLY:                  Gracious, it’s turning into a nasty night! I’ll have to shut that window. And it was so nice this afternoon too.

(WINDOW CLOSES AND NOISE OF WIND ABATES: SLEET AGAINST WINDOW)

SALLY:                  Dad. Oh, Dad!

FATHER:               (OFF)  What is it, Sally?

SALLY:                  On-Time Hank’s making a great run with 27 tonight. Only 30 minutes late out of Libby!

FATHER:               Great! That mail train always makes it! Any orders for ‘em.

SALLY:                  No, everything’s clear.

 

 

Led by sound engineer Harry Edison, the sound effects men of the NBC studios made the roar of the storm well up again across the ether. They lowered the sound of the storm and then made January (or a man faking the sound of a dog) growl menacingly and culminate in a “sharp bark.” The listeners were thus startled once more as Jim and his dog returned to the microphone in flashback.

JIM:                      What’s the matter, January? Storm getting on your nerves? You’d better be glad you’re warm and dry inside the bank here with me!

(DOG WHINES: THEN BARKS)

JIM:                      Well, I don’t suppose you like working ‘til midnight any better than I do – payroll or no payroll. Maybe there’s a cat around. Is that it? (DOG WHINES) Now, you lie down there, and cut out the whining, January! How am I going to get any work done with you getting on my nerves like that?

(STORM: MUSIC UP VERY BRIEFLY; OUT. DOG BARKS VIOLENTLY; CRASH OF GLASS)

Okay, now things are becoming startling. Only this part wasn’t a flashback. Oh well.

ROBBER 1:          Up with them mitts, young feller! Now, now – jest forget about reachin’ fer that gun, an’ put ‘em up while you’re able … There now, that’s more like it! And from now on – keep ‘em up and don’t open your face!

ROBBER 2:          Better plug ‘em, Jake. We don’t wanta take no chances.

Tsk, tsk, tsk. It seems these were the same lowlifes Sally spotted earlier in the day near the water tank. And boy, were they up to no good. One of the robbers threatened to shoot January, so Jim rushed him. This got January even more riled up. The robbers pistol-whipped Jim over the head, and then smacked poor January into February with a chair. With both Jim and January knocked unconscious, the robbers dragged their captives into a back room and set about rigging the safe with explosives.

With a couple of startlingly rapid flashbacks, the scene of the night’s story jumped back into the cab of the Fast Mail for some talk about how fast the train was taking the curves, and then startlingly back into the bank. Jim came to and groaned some while he regained his wits. He tried to stand but his head spun and he fell with a thud. With all the effort he could muster, Jim grabbed a pencil and a scrap of paper. He wrote out a terse note to Sally: “Bank robbers. Get help quick.” He gave the note to January, smashed the window, and urged the hound to take the note to Sally.

A flashback jolted the startled radio audience back to the adjacent room where the bank robbers advanced their piece of the drama. They reacted with only mild confusion and fleeting curiosity to the noise of the breaking window and the discovery of Jim still lying on the floor, but January gone. They had a safe to blow, so they went back to work with the explosives.

Just then, another startling flashback assailed the listeners.

(MUSIC. TRAIN THUNDERS THROUGH IT. FADES INTO STORM OFF. TELEGRAPH KEYS)

SALLY:                  Oh – Dad!

FATHER:               (OFF) Yes, Sally?

SALLY:                  I see a light – away up at the curve. It’s twenty-seven.

(STORM UP LOUDER)

SALLY:                  Oh! I wonder … I wonder … Dad! Dad!

FATHER:               (OFF) What’s the trouble?

SALLY:                  I can see a funny looking light moving round inside the bank! Now it’s out! No – there it is again!

Sally tried to call Jim on the telephone, but there was no answer. It seemed the line was dead. Just then, she heard scratching at the depot door. Sally realized it must be January, and naturally she presumed Jim was with him.

SALLY:                  January, you poor dog! Where’s Jim! Why, you’re bleeding. Oh! What’s this!  (PAPER RUSTLE)  Father! January has brought a message from Jim! Bank robbers – get help quick! What shall I do? The ‘phone wires are out! I’ll have to go for help myself!

FATHER:               (Off)  Don’t you move out of that office, Sally! You stay by that telegraph key!

SALLY:                  But father – Jim . . .!

FATHER:               (Off)  You stay by that key! You’re working for the railroad – you can’t leave those keys.

Well, it certainly wouldn’t do for a telegrapher (even one who was unofficially substituting for her incapacitated GN-employee-father) to abandon her post. And the Fast Mail was due to come roaring through in minutes. What’s a panicky young woman to do in a situation like this? Well, she used her noggin, and authority she appropriated from her father, and she brought the Fast Mail to a screeching halt. It had aboard it the only cavalry she was likely to summon up anytime soon. With yet another startling flashback, the men on the Fast Mail reacted to Sally’s desperate actions:

PIONEER:            Roarin’ over bridges – shootin’ through tunnels – golly what a ride! An’ nothing but green lights – there’s another.

(WHISTLE:  1 LONG)

HANK:                  That’s Panhandle. In a minute we can see the order board over the station.

PIONEER:            Oh, yeah, there it is. Green again.

HANK:                  Yeah, all clear and a lot of straight track out of Panhandle. Now we’re going to hit it up. We’re only 12 minutes behind now.

PIONEER:            Whoop! That light’s turned red!

IRISH:                   Give her the works, Hank, they’ve put the board on you!

(SOUND OF AIR BRAKES. GRINDING OF WHEELS, ETC.)

Hank and Irish dynamited the brakes and brought the roaring Fast Mail to a complete stop. Hank was none too pleased about having to stop the train, but he also had no intention of breaking any rules (or putting himself and his train in danger) by blasting through Panhandle with a red signal.

(BRIEF MUSIC. DOG BARKS. FADE IN STOPPING OF TRAIN, WITH SOUND OF AIR BRAKES AND CLANG OF BELL. UP TO FULL STOP)

HANK:                 Here! What’s the big idea?

IRISH:                 Say, Red Head, what’s the red board for?

SALLY:                Robbers! Over there – in the bank! Father’s sick! Telephone wires cut! Hurry up! I had to get help!

HANK:                 Well, of all the tarnation nerve! Somebody has got to go and rob a bank just when I’m making up time! Hey, Jack! Roust the men out of those mail and express cars! Snap into it! Hey, Irish, whistle out the flagman to protect the rear.

(VOICES IN BACKGROUND – HEY! EVERYBODY OUT! WHAT’S THE MATTER? BRING YOUR GUNS! WHISTLE _ ONE LONG, THREE SHORT)

Without the aid of any additional startling flashbacks, Sally told the railroad men to hurry to the bank to stop the robbers. She had to remain at the depot, but January bolted off toward the bank, and Sally directed the men to follow the old hound dog. The men heard a loud, dull explosion come from the bank. They raced to the front of the building and apprehended the robbers as they emerged with the stolen loot. The robbers expected to make off without resistance, but facing the armed railroaders from the mail train, they immediately gave up without a fight.

HANK:                  Come on, boys! Bring those crooks.

IRISH:                   What are we going to do with ‘em?

HANK:                  Put ‘em on the train, of course! Tell that girl to wire ahead, and have the sheriff meet us at Priest River. Don’t just stand there! Move! Thunder and lightning! We’re twenty minutes late now.

IRISH:                   Come on, you tin horn bandits! Step lively!

(VOICES AND FOOTSTEPS FADE OUT. FIVE LONG WHISTLES. TRAIN BELL STARTS IN BACKGROUND. TWO SHORT WHISTLES. TRAIN STARTS PICKS UP SPEED AND FADES AWAY. STORM NOISE. TELEGRAPH KEYS)

The Old Timer remained in Panhandle and the Fast Mail and its crew steamed off towards Priest River, trying to make up lost time. A doctor was fetched for Jim (who of course turned out to be fine), and all the excitement of the robbery faded into the night.

(MUSIC IN. GRADUALLY FADE OUT TELEGRAPH KEYS AND STORM. FADE DOWN MUSIC. PATTER OF RAIN AS IN OPENING SCENE)

PIONEER:            (CHUCKLE) Well, Sally an’ Jim got married all right, an’ so did January. And that’s how I came to name this dog after his father – the dog that carried the note that warned the girl who stopped the train that saved the bank! And On-Time Hank pulled twenty-seven in On-Time after all. (CHUCKLE) Well, January, let’s you and me go and hunt a bed! … (DOG’S WOOF)  Good night, Frank.

FRANK:                 Good night, Old Timer!

PIONEER:            (OFF) Good night!

(MUSIC UP AND FADE FOR CLOSING ANNOUNCEMENT)

ANNOUNCER:    You have been listening to Empire Builders, a presentation of the Great Northern Railway. Empire Builders comes to you from the New York studios of the National Broadcasting Company.

 

As I’ve written about in the past, the Great Northern Railway was downright obsessive about ensuring their broadcasts were as technically correct and historically accurate as possible. With this broadcast about On Time Hank, Harold Sims researched and included many details of railroad operation that, if not probable, were at least plausible within the context of his story. Likewise, the sound effects men were instructed to be as realistic as humanly possible when creating the unique sounds required for Empire Builders programs. This broadcast included the sound of a telegraph key tapping out a message, such as near the conclusion of the story, when Sally sent word to the Sheriff in Priest River. I have no doubt that a real telegrapher was employed to tap out a very real message with a telegraph key and sounder. The GN knew there were plenty of real railroaders who regularly tuned in to Empire Builders. It simply would not do to fake such things as telegraph transmissions – especially when they were perfectly capable of enlisting the appropriate expertise to do it right.

As for the points in the continuity that called for the sound men to produce train whistles, this was accomplished with a real Great Northern Railway locomotive whistle up on the roof of the NBC building in New York City. Since the earliest days of railroading, train whistles (or air horns) have been used to communicate among train and freight yard crews, and even with anyone nearby, such as motorists at grade crossings. The whistle signals consist of a prescribed set of long (shown in print ( – ) with a  dash symbol) and short sounds (shown in print (o) with a small open circle). As a reference to train whistle sequences of this era, I’ve consulted a 1939 edition of the Consolidated Code of Transportation Rules and General Instructions, as applied by the Great Northern and some other railroads they interacted with. Railroad rules are numbered and at least partially standardized. This source shows the applicable direction under Rule 14, “Engine Whistle Signals.” Here is a translation of the whistle sequences called for in the portions of the continuity that I’ve quoted in this blog entry:

 

ONE LONG WHISTLE:                                    –––––––               Approaching stations, junctions, railroad crossings at grade, draw bridges, and mail cranes located between stations.

 

ONE LONG, THREE SHORT WHISTLES:      –  o  o  o               Flagman protect rear of train.

 

FIVE LONG WHISTLES:                                 – – – – –                Flagman may return from east or north, as prescribed by Rule 99*.

 

TWO SHORT WHISTLES:                              o o                          Answer to Rule 14 (k)**, or any signal not otherwise provided for.

 

* Rule 99 directs train crews in protecting a stopped train against any possible overtaking train.

** Rule 14 (k) relates to operations in Single Track areas.

 

The real-life “On-Time Hank” Mayfield continued to operate locomotives for the Great Northern Railway for two years, when he made his last run for the company in February of 1933, at the age of 70. This final trip took him to St. Paul, GN corporate headquarters, where he filed paperwork for his retirement. Mayfield was a remarkable man who was more active in his community than most. He served as Mayor of Whitefish from 1910 to 1913, and even served a term in the Montana state legislature. Among his accomplishments as Mayor of Whitefish, Mayfield was said to have:

… rid the streets and alleys of the city of tree stumps, promptly brought about the removal of benches in front of saloons, and thus protected the women of the community from the ordeal of ungallant inspection, and he brought about reduction of the number of saloons from eleven to five, and redeemed the town from domination by unruly elements, visiting hoboes having been impressed into service in clearing stumps from the streets and alleys, so that their visitations were soon eliminated.

[“Montana: the Land and the People” (Volume 3), by Robert George Raymer, 1930]

He held leadership roles in the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers. He was a Mason and belonged to the Order of the Eastern Star, the Knights Templar, the Mystic Order of the Shrine, and the Moose Lodge.

When Mayfield passed away in 1937, his obituary referenced the distinction afforded him by having his story – which featured both his nickname and his real name – aired by the Empire Builders radio series. And not just once. The story was so popular that it was reused in May, 1931, as the series was nearing the end of its run.

On June 17, 1937, Mayfield was struck by a car and killed while in Nebraska visiting his son. Had he lived just a few days longer, he would have been given a special recognition by the Great Northern Railway. Officials of the railroad had determined that Mayfield would drive the Empire Builder passenger train from Spokane to Whitefish on his 75th birthday – June 23rd.