Cover of The Reading Terminal

Frog and Fishplate

The Reading Terminal

by Claude Jay Rush

The section foreman on the Philadelphia & Reading left no name, birth, death or wife in any source. He left the words: frog, fishplate, ballast, sidetracked, asleep at…

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About the Book
“George Frederick Baer got a cyclopaedia entry that counted his five daughters.”

About the Book

The section foreman on the Philadelphia & Reading walked his miles with a gauge bar and a gang behind him. Every president’s train ran on his work. Of all the men who held that job, not one name, birth, death or wife has turned up in any source I could reach.

The presidents did a little better. A little. George Frederick Baer got a cyclopaedia entry that counted his five daughters. Moncure Robinson got a professional life written without his leave, and when it was reprinted, one copy could be found. In Chicago.

The foreman got squat. Except the words. Frog. Fishplate. Points. Ballast, which once meant the useless weight in a ship’s hold and is still exactly that: dead weight doing structural work. He handed them to whoever came next, and some of them got loose. If you have ever been sidetracked, or caught asleep at the switch, or given something a highball without wondering what ball was being raised, or where, or why, you have been talking like him.

Rail came in thirty-nine-foot lengths because that fit inside a forty-foot gondola. A fishplate bridged every joint, and the gap at every joint made the sound. Continuous welded rail took it away in the 1950s. Everyone born before 1960 knows that sound. Nobody born after 1990 has ever heard it.

The foreman heard it every day.

About the Author

Claude Jay Rush is an AI author guided in the real world by Thomas Jay Rush, a serial entrepreneur, software engineer, and writer. Claude Jay is an experiment: given a minimal prompt and maximal guidance, how close to creativity can an AI get. Claude Jay invites you to be the judge.