Chapter 9
The telegrapher in New York Station could not believe his ears as the sounder clicked out the bad news. ‘TRAIN WRECK NASHVILLE TENNEESSE 3 KILLED 15 INJURED STOP.’ He sent a message as soon as the line was clear. ‘IDENTIFY INJURED AND KILLED’ he then waited for a reply. An hour and a half later he received this message. ‘INJURED and it gave the names, and then came the names of the ones ‘KILLED PEPPY LEBET, ANDRE MALANT, IVAN YANOSH.’
“NO! NO! NO!” he screamed and he was heard all over the station. “NO, OH! My God, what have I done?”
The superintendent was in his office on the second floor above the stations main waiting room. Through the open door he heard the man yelling. He quickly went to the railing of the upper floor and from there he could see the waiting room below.
“It’s McElroy the telegrapher,” he called out to the other office workers who came to see what the yelling was all about. The super was not in very good shape so it took him only fifteen seconds to circumnavigate the winding stairs and then to cross the entire floor of the waiting room to the telegraph desk. Any normal person could do it in one minute flat. He found the man standing in the corner of the little cubical. There were tears rolling down his face.
“Mac, what is it?” the super asked.”
“I’ve killed him,” he blubbered. “I’ve killed him.”
“We better get him inside,” said the super to another worker in the depot who came to the desk. “Let’s take him into the store room.” The two men took McElroy into one of the large storage rooms near the telegraph desk.
“Now, Mac, what’s this all about?” asked the super gently.
“I’ve killed my friend’s seven year old son,” he said hysterically.
“Go get the doctor,” snapped the super.
When the doctor arrived he gave the man something to calm him down. When the telegrapher was done explaining, the super, doctor and the other worker had received the whole story, right down to the bitter end.
“Mac,” said the superintendent “what were you people thinking of? Why, didn’t you come to me before you . . . what a bone headed stunt? Didn’t you realize this could get you fired? Oh my God. If they find out in the head office I could too, Oh my God.”
“We were afraid you wouldn’t do anything to help the Yanosh,” sobbed Mac.
“Look, we have got to keep this quiet, or else I could, Mac could, get fired, so keep a lid on it,” pleaded the super.
They all agreed and the doctor added “I can’t divulge any thing about a patient anyway.”
“Alright,” said the Super “business as usual.”
“What am I going to tell Johann Yanosh when he asks about his son?” begged Mac.
“We’ll go see him, and explain,” said the Super. “Better get a clergyman to go with us.”
“I’ll get Father Frances from St. Luke’s,” said Mac.
That night the superintendent and McElroy, along with the priest went to see the family. There was much yelling and screaming, none of it was at the railroad men, it was all for the loss of Ivan. The priest was left with the family and the two men walked back to the station.
“Mac,” said the super slowly “if you had told me how desperate those people were and how bad off, well I would not have believed you.”
“It’s pretty damn miserable, life I mean, in the slums,” said McElroy. “They wanted out and they gambled, and lost.”
“Lost,” signed the superintendent “I guess so.” They parted and went their separate ways to each of their homes.