Lehigh Valley #11 - Maildrop LbNA #25212
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Add Location| Owner: | Adoptable |
|---|---|
| Plant date: | Jul 4, 2006 |
| Location: | |
| City: | Mendon |
| County: | Monroe |
| State: | New York |
| Boxes: | 1 |
| Planted by: | dipperwhippers  |
|---|---|
| Found by: | Jiggs |
| Last found: | May 9, 2010 |
| Status: | FFFFFFFFFF |
| Last edited: | Jul 4, 2006 |
Clue to Lehigh Valley #11– Maildrop:
Note to Letterboxer: The Lehigh Valley Trail, upon which this series is based, includes mile markers numbered from West to East. This series follows the mile markers (included in the titles) but in the opposite direction – from East to West. To follow the story properly, please read from the largest number (e.g., #12) to the smallest (e.g., #9).
Thursday August 31, 1911 – 10:00PM
Folks around East Mendon generally considered Samuel Barrett to be an ornery fellow. Rightly so, Considering the railroad had taken most of what was once a meadow behind his home to build the East Mendon Station and Bean Mill. In fact the tracks lay within 30 feet of the structure. It was no wonder that he wound up working for the Lehigh Valley railroad as a Stationmaster.
The East Mendon Station suited Samuel well. It was not a passenger station, so his day-to-day contact with folks was pretty much limited to Farmers and Merchants moving goods by rail. As Stationmaster, one of his duties was the loading and retrieval of the mailbag on select runs.
It was this very task that had Samuel up at 10:00PM. As a man that typically turned in at dusk (7:14 on this evening), he had been awoken by the small wind-up alarm clock on his night stand. He had gotten dressed – which consisted of pulling the suspenders of the pants he still had on over his shoulders and pulling on a pair of well worn leather boots over his already stockinged feet.
Hurrying out his front door he listened closely for the distant sound of the engine “chuff” and signal at Mile Square road. He recognized the distant engine sound and hurried across the tracks to the small platform that projected from the Grain Warehouse near Rush-Mendon Road. Instead of entering the building in the proper manner, he hoisted himself directly up on the platform and slid open the door there.
Just as his wiry form slipped into the darkness of the structure the train whistled the Mile Square crossing. He scrambled in the darkness, locating the mail bag and hurried back to the platform.
By his keeping the train was 10 minutes early this evening. Odd, he thought… But then he noticed the sound of the engine. It wasn’t slowing as it typically did. On most evenings the train would come to a compete stop for the exchange of mail bags and loading of other goods (typically cream for the dining car). The train would begin to slow when negotiating the several curves that brought it parallel to the station platform. But this evening, it sounded as though the engineer had forgotten about this sleepy stop. Had the man in the baggage car forgotten as well?
The track curved south here. So, his view of the side of the train was obscured. The Engine was barreling past the platform and he noticed the shy wave of the Engineer. “What the….?” That was Fred Kirchgraber! He had never failed to stop before! As the coal car rumbled past he could just see the baggage car and with its open freight door. In the moonlit darkness he could just make out the vestiges of a full Mailbag poking out of the car profile.
Not knowing what to expect, but being a conscientious railroad employee, he knew come hell or high water he was going to keep up his end of the bargain. He hoisted the mailbag and held it close to his chest. As the open door approached he propelled the bag into the moving car.
Much to his surprise, the man in the baggage car timed his delivery exactly the same and the ejected mail bag hit Samuel square in the chest. The force of the bag knocked him off his feet and he fell on his backside against the granary door.
Stunned as he hit the wall he saw the mailbag id tag pop off the bag and roll towards the south facing edge of the platform. Just as it rolled over the edge he saw what he thought was a man’s face at coupling level between the Baggage and Dining cars. “What?” he thought.
Slowly he stood, brushed himself off and placed the mailbag inside the Warehouse and slid the door closed with a thud. The train was now just a distant sound…
The next day, he found the tag behind the southwest platform support.
Note to Letterboxer: The Lehigh Valley Trail, upon which this series is based, includes mile markers numbered from West to East. This series follows the mile markers (included in the titles) but in the opposite direction – from East to West. To follow the story properly, please read from the largest number (e.g., #12) to the smallest (e.g., #9).
Thursday August 31, 1911 – 10:00PM
Folks around East Mendon generally considered Samuel Barrett to be an ornery fellow. Rightly so, Considering the railroad had taken most of what was once a meadow behind his home to build the East Mendon Station and Bean Mill. In fact the tracks lay within 30 feet of the structure. It was no wonder that he wound up working for the Lehigh Valley railroad as a Stationmaster.
The East Mendon Station suited Samuel well. It was not a passenger station, so his day-to-day contact with folks was pretty much limited to Farmers and Merchants moving goods by rail. As Stationmaster, one of his duties was the loading and retrieval of the mailbag on select runs.
It was this very task that had Samuel up at 10:00PM. As a man that typically turned in at dusk (7:14 on this evening), he had been awoken by the small wind-up alarm clock on his night stand. He had gotten dressed – which consisted of pulling the suspenders of the pants he still had on over his shoulders and pulling on a pair of well worn leather boots over his already stockinged feet.
Hurrying out his front door he listened closely for the distant sound of the engine “chuff” and signal at Mile Square road. He recognized the distant engine sound and hurried across the tracks to the small platform that projected from the Grain Warehouse near Rush-Mendon Road. Instead of entering the building in the proper manner, he hoisted himself directly up on the platform and slid open the door there.
Just as his wiry form slipped into the darkness of the structure the train whistled the Mile Square crossing. He scrambled in the darkness, locating the mail bag and hurried back to the platform.
By his keeping the train was 10 minutes early this evening. Odd, he thought… But then he noticed the sound of the engine. It wasn’t slowing as it typically did. On most evenings the train would come to a compete stop for the exchange of mail bags and loading of other goods (typically cream for the dining car). The train would begin to slow when negotiating the several curves that brought it parallel to the station platform. But this evening, it sounded as though the engineer had forgotten about this sleepy stop. Had the man in the baggage car forgotten as well?
The track curved south here. So, his view of the side of the train was obscured. The Engine was barreling past the platform and he noticed the shy wave of the Engineer. “What the….?” That was Fred Kirchgraber! He had never failed to stop before! As the coal car rumbled past he could just see the baggage car and with its open freight door. In the moonlit darkness he could just make out the vestiges of a full Mailbag poking out of the car profile.
Not knowing what to expect, but being a conscientious railroad employee, he knew come hell or high water he was going to keep up his end of the bargain. He hoisted the mailbag and held it close to his chest. As the open door approached he propelled the bag into the moving car.
Much to his surprise, the man in the baggage car timed his delivery exactly the same and the ejected mail bag hit Samuel square in the chest. The force of the bag knocked him off his feet and he fell on his backside against the granary door.
Stunned as he hit the wall he saw the mailbag id tag pop off the bag and roll towards the south facing edge of the platform. Just as it rolled over the edge he saw what he thought was a man’s face at coupling level between the Baggage and Dining cars. “What?” he thought.
Slowly he stood, brushed himself off and placed the mailbag inside the Warehouse and slid the door closed with a thud. The train was now just a distant sound…
The next day, he found the tag behind the southwest platform support.