Imagine yourself at the throttle of a locomotive. You're the engineer of a train weighing perhaps 10,000 tons. You approach a crossing at a speed of about 40 mph. You sound your horn. You can see the crossing lights flashing. Everything is working as it should. Then, someone decides to beat the train.

You're already almost on top of the crossing. Often, the car is so close that it has already disappeared beneath the nose of the locomotive. All too often, the last view you have of the vehicle are the faces of the children in the back seat. It's an image forever burned into your memory.

Simultaneously, you close the throttle and place the brake handle into the emergency position. It's actually more of a required, reflex reaction. The train will stop as quickly as possible, a quarter to a half mile down the track. The chances of a fatality are overwhelming. Someone has probably died.

You immediately realize there was nothing more that you could have done. You know everything had been working properly. It wasn't your fault. Why didn't they stop ? You feel so helpless. It's an intensely traumatic experience. Someone is dead.

A crowd starts to form. Officials appear on scene to inspect, measure, photograph and interview. It's an extremely sensitive and emotional situation. The media is everywhere. Everyone asks the same question. Why ? Why ? The air is thick with tension. You are the center of attention. Someone takes samples of your bodily fluids.

A tragedy has occurred. The actions that led to it were entirely in the hands of others. Family and friends of the deceased begin to arrive. Emotions really begin to build. Along with everyone else, you grieve with the family. Yet, it seems that everyone is looking in your direction. No one is sympathizing with you.

If they're lucky, you'll stay with the train and take it to the intended terminus. You may appear to be insensitive, but (in fact) it's only a survival instinct. A different engineer might be so distraught that he'd refuse to go on. A few will never operate another road engine, again, preferring the relative safety of switchers within yard limits. In any case, you're going to need counseling. Certain images in your mind never seem to go away.

So, you want to be a motorman or a locomotive engineer. You think it would be fun. Actually, it is a bit of a thrill. However, there is a down side, too. Some measure of anxiety, apprehension and fear will naturally be present, the first time you take the train across Gratiot Avenue. Experience will help. A flagman at the crossing is always a welcome sight. However, you must never forget that life is precious. If you're just a bit lucky, you'll never have an incident.

Over the years, I've been tested twice at grade crossings. Both times, someone stopped directly on the tracks. The emergency brake was applied. A collision was avoided. No one was injured. Neither incident has deterred me from operating, in the least. However, I now find grade crossing safety to be an even more important issue. I was lucky.

Still, when I brought that one old trolley to a complete and safe stop, I could see fear in the eyes of the silver-haired female behind the wheel. She thought she was about to die. I could have reached out the front window and touched her, I was so close. There are some images that just don't go away.
-- Gary J Michaels