Alumni of Local 282

Wednesday, January 16, 2008 Linda and I attended a meeting of the so-called “Alumni of Local 282;” an organization of retired Local 282 members of Regional Transit Service.
The “Alumni” is only retired 282 members, not all of Transit, the vaunted “15 & 25-Year Club,” which included the mindless management minions, which did nothing but drive desks and collect their bloated paychecks (and fire people).
In late ‘92 I attended a Christmas party sponsored by the 15 & 25-Year Club, and the head PR honcho at Transit, who was getting paid over $70,000 per year back then, one Howard Gates, refused to even talk to me.
I had just started the dreaded “282 News,” so that he was now fielding phonecalls from local politicos, who funded Transit, along the lines of “what’s going on down there?”
As PR honcho, Gates was supposed to put out a house-organ every two months, yet that rarely happened, and we might go as long as six months before seeing that house-organ.
Yet here I was, working full-time as a bus-driver, cranking out a union newsletter, as an unpaid volunteer, getting one out every month.
“Just keep it positive,” he yelled at me as he disappeared into the mens’ room.
I was running circles around that guy. He accused me of being a “union activist.” Even the “mindless management minions” were impressed by what I was doing. I was also including long stories about the vagaries of the bus-biz; portraying some of the insanities we had to deal with. The Transit-biz had a voice — and it was me. (So it wasn’t just reportage.)
The point of this “Alumni” meeting was to detail a new dental-plan for union retirees.
Actually, it’s not dental-insurance. What has happened is the Alumni have negotiated lower prices for various dental procedures with a Rochester dental clinic.
That clinic bills Blue Cross for the dental-insurance we already have, and then bills us for the copay.
But since they’re charging less, our copay is less.
Under the current regime, Blue Cross pays its part as the primary, and we copay the rest. E.g. they pay a mere $10 for cleaning and $10 for exam, and our dentist bills me the rest, almost $60.
With the new dental arrangement, the total bill would be $57, and our copay would be $37.
Nice idea, but I’d have to use that clinic, which means a long drive into Rochester; so I don’t know if that’s worth $23.
Plus in doing so we’re switching dentists, which we had planned to do anyway, but mainly to go to a dentist nearby. (Our current dentist is a trip into Rochester; about as far as the clinic.)

We left the house at about 9 a.m.; the meeting was supposed to begin at 10 a.m. —I have to allow an hour for a trip into Rochester, since there may be traffic delays.
But apparently we had missed NASCAR rush-hour, since we were about a half-hour early.

The Keed with the dreaded D100.

Train-pik #1; CSX eastbound at the CutOut.

So we went directly to the CutOut.
The CutOut is where 44 and Bill and I (and wives) saw the Amtrak Niagara Rainbow blasting eastbound into the dawning sun. The Rainbow was the Turbo, and 44 was about five. I had him on my shoulders and we got the crew to blow the horn as the train blasted by at about 65 mph, throttle-to-the-roof, into the sun.
The CutOut is also where Jack took me shortly after my stroke. I was home from the hospital by then, but still off in the ozone.
The CutOut is where I took my first train-picture (above) with the D100. I drove up with my just-purchased D100, and told the camera this was what it was in for: 89 bazilyun train-piks. I had to jaw with hotties taking lunch with their cigarette-break. (It was warm; springtime.)
The CutOut is no longer what it was. I visited a few years ago, and the fans had installed a picnic-table, so they could set up and watch trains, or jaw at each other.
Now the whole area is fenced off and all overgrown with wild underbrush. Ya’d never know the place existed.
The CutOut was where the old Auburn branched off, and at the east end of the Rochester yard-entrance.
The Auburn is totally gone — not even the turnout.
But the old four-track NYC signal-tower is still there, and lights up when a train is in the block. (“Get out! Get out!” I shouted to 44. “It’s in the block!”) —Only three tracks now; and one is the yard-entrance.
The CutOut was next to the employee parking-lot of Harris Communications, so we went in there; but seeing the fence we went into the adjacent parking-lot of Best Motors (a Volvo-dealer), but that wasn’t it.
So we went back to the Harris lot, and parked at the fence.
A local was stopped adjacent, GP40-2 on the point and GP38-2 on the tail: waiting for a signal; so it could clear out of the yard.

The Keed with the dreaded D100.

Apparition.

The local left and I noticed a strange red apparition in the trees across the tracks — what appeared to be Santa Claus high atop two red fiberglass giraffes.
“What, pray tell, is that?” I asked.
Linda too was buffaloed.
Where is the all-knowing bluster-boy when we need him?
“If that’s Santy Claus, it sure don’t look like him. In fact, it looks like Godzilla,” I said.
We waited a few minutes, and seeing no trains, we set out in search of the apparition.
Turns out the old Farrell factory, which long ago went kaput, has been turned into a HUGE artsy-craftsy outlet, so a couple “artists” have done an “artpark;” which includes the apparition.
The whole thing is fenced off; what parent would want their children climbing all over trumpeting red-fiberglass elephants, bridged by giant red turtles, all lined up in a well-ordered row?
And Godzilla was on top, holding a flagpole with Old Glory that had been snagged by the trees. Disrespectful, I tell ya!
I photographed it and we went to the meeting.

Here we are at the meeting — first time Linda has ever been to the vaunted “Laborer’s Union Hall,” within earshot of the Water-Level on Railroad St. in Rochester. Screaming posters supporting Hillary-Dillery, and abstract water-colors of bare-chested smoking honkies shouldering large harrows* of mason-cement.
After introductions, the floor was opened to questions.
“What’s the difference between our current benefit and this new plan?” a member asked.
“Fifty dollars!” a retired fellow-employee snapped.
I turned around and said: “Colvin, will you please straighten up and fly right!”
“You’re fired,” I then said.
“Figures,” I thought to myself. Bus-drivers are always smarty-pants, people that get self-declared management superiors all bent out of shape.
“This job makes us who we are,” I observed. “Ya couldn’t interface with blowhards without becoming one yourself.”

* I ain’t sure “harrow” is right — but I’m sure the bluster-boy will loudly tell me. I look up “harrow,” and that don’t appear to be it; nor “barrow.”

For 16&1/2 years I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service, the transit-bus operator in Rochester, N.Y.

The “282 News” was my union newsletter, done with Word.

“44 and Bill” are my younger brother Bill and his son Tom (Agent 44), both from northern Delaware. Tom is in his 20s now, recently graduated the University of Delaware, and employed as a computer-engineer at Boeing; but still lives with his parents. Like me, Tom is a railfan — his parents aren’t.

The “Niagara Rainbow” is an Amtrak passenger-train between New York City and Toronto. I think it still runs. In the early ‘80s it used Amtrak’s French “Turbo-train,” powered by gas-turbines.

“Jack” is my loudmouthed macho brother-from-Boston.

I had a stroke October 26, 1993.

My wife of 40 years is Linda; Bill’s wife is Sue.

The “D100” is my Nikon D100 digital camera.

A loud famblee argument has surfaced about “hottie.” I follow the old definition where “hottie” equaled a slut. But all my Christian-zealot relatives loudly declare that “hottie” has become a symbol of Christian virtue and attractiveness.

The “Auburn”-Road was the first railroad across the state into Rochester. It took a rather circuitous route, and is now largely abandoned. A more direct railroad was built east from Rochester to Syracuse, so the Auburn became a detour bypass. The direct route became the mainline of the New York Central Railroad, but NYC also owned the Auburn. (The direct route is now CSX.) The Auburn served many small farming communities, but the railroad became moribund as freight-carriage switched to trucks. Quite a bit is now operated by independent shortline Finger Lakes Railway, but the line into Rochester is gone.

“Turnout” is a railroad-switch.

A “local” is a short train of freight-cars to be switched into lineside sidings, or connecting-tracks to other lines (e.g. shortlines) — the opposite of a through-freight that bridges the entire line.

“GP40-2” and “GP38-2” are both “Geeps.” “Geep” is the nickname given to EMD GP road-switchers (four axles). Most railroad-locomotives nowadays are “road-switchers;” although mostly six axles — which don’t use the “GP” moniker. —The GP40-2 is turbocharged; the GP38-2 isn’t, and is of lesser horsepower. (I think the GP40-2 is 3,000 hp; and the GP38-2 is 2,000 hp.) Dash-2 implies more recent electronics.

“EMD” is Electromotive Division of General Motors, GM’s manufacturer of railroad diesel-locomotives. Most railroads used EMD when they dieselized; although many now use General-Electric railroad diesel-locomotives.

“The all-knowing bluster-boy” is my macho, loudmouthed brother-from-Boston who noisily badmouths everything I do or say. (He’s a construction-engineer, so should know the kerreck terminology [re: “harrow”]; and will loudly deliver it to score points.)

“The Water-Level” is the old mainline of the New York Central Railroad across New York State, now operated by CSX Transportation. Called “Water-Level” because it followed river-courses, and thereby avoided mountain grades. (The topography of New York State, north of the Allegheny Mountains, made transportation easier.) —It was once four tracks; but now is mostly two.

“Hillary-Dillery” is Hillary Clinton.