BIO: Robert Steel, Tillard Pen Pictures, 1911, Blair County, PA Contributed April 2003 for use in the USGenWeb Archives by Judy Banja Copyright 2003. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/blair/ _________________________________________ Pen Pictures of Friends and Reminiscent Sketches By J. N. Tillard Altoona, PA: William F. Gable & Co., Mirror Press, 1911 ROBERT STEEL Railroad Builder Silvery Haired, Snowy Bearded, Octogenarian Still Lives, Moves and Has His Being SOME thirty-six years ago the writer, then employed as a messenger to Ambrose Ward, general car inspector, was coming through the railroad yards near Fourth Street in the neighborhood of 6 o'clock in the morning. The yards were not so large or intricate as they are now and the boy knew them so well that he felt a sort of proprietary interest. He felt himself at liberty to mount any locomotive that happened to pass and the greater the speed, the more glorious the achievement if he succeeded in getting on. He hoped some day to rival the skill of "Billy" Lingle and some other heroes that he saw get aboard a fast moving gondola car by simply placing their hands on the top of the side board and vault over, ignoring the stirrup. It mattered not that Depot Masters Charlie Wilson and "Billie" Cramer frequently prophesied that he would "some day be gathered up with a bucket and spoon." On this particular morning, he was peering through the fog for a shifter that he expected, when out of the mist there suddenly flashed the brass-covered "Sixty" hauling Pacific Express. He was not expecting this, and narrowly escaped being run down. He can yet see the vision of "Billy" Weaver "hooking over" his reverse lever with a most wrathful expression on his bronzed face. For once the kid was scared, and as he stood there with his heart in his mouth, there loomed up the stalwart form and benign countenance of Robert D. Steel, trainmaster. "Well son," was his greeting, "I see you still live, move and have your being." He had not seen the "Billy" Weaver episode and therefore was not trying to point a moral; it was simply his ordinary every-day bigness of heart-giving kindly expression to an obscure messenger boy. And with the passing years, he has grown even more mellow. As he sits on his porch on Green Avenue and reviews his associations of the past, a kindly light springs up in his yet keen eye, and he speaks of his associates in the development of the transportation department of the world's greatest railroad, with an air of being proud of the association. And were they not great men, these pioneers of new methods through the Appalachian Ranges? With the harnessing of steam, they set out to annihilate time and space, and were marking time in a new epoch of the world's progress. The physical difficulties they encountered, the apparently insurmountable barriers they surmounted, and the seemingly unsolvable problems they solved are written in the world's history. A year before the gold fever sent the adventurous spirits of the time flocking across the continent with the gold fever in their veins, with the ox team and the mule as the swiftest mode of progression, Robert Steel was carrying a chain for an engineer corps hunting a pathway for the iron horse between Harrisburg and Duncansville. This work accomplished, he returned to his home in Perry County and became a pedagogue, teaching for several years in Schuylkill County. On March 8, 1850, he entered the employ of the Pennsylvania Railroad as a brakeman, and had found his life work. From Harrisburg to the Y switches at Duncansville was his first run, and it took about fifteen hours to accomplish it, if he was lucky. His train was hauled by an eighteen ton Norris engine. But he only made about three trips until he was promoted to flagman on the local freight, between Philadelphia and Duncansville. Here the round trip occupied a week. In 1854, he became assistant to Matthew T. Dill, conductor of the immigrant train, and a year later was made conductor. In 1855 he was married, and bringing his bride to the beginnings of Altoona, they roomed with "Aunt" Bessie Daugherty on Green Avenue, and ever since that far back day, whatever his vicissitudes he has always returned to Green Avenue when he set his face toward home. As a conductor on freight or immigrant trains he continued until 1865, when he was made assistant train master at Altoona. From that time until his retirement in 1900, he handled the constantly increasing traffic of the Middle Division as trainmaster somewhere along the line. He has almost completed his four score years, but the iron constitution that carried him through all the hardships of his strenuous life, still serves him well. While talking with the writer, he saw going up the street an ice wagon, and recollecting that he wanted some of the commodity, with a hasty "excuse me," he was off like a shot, overhauling the team at the corner. To all outward appearances, the silvery hair, the snowy beard and kindly smile of this octogenarian will be visible in their accustomed haunts for many years to come. May he still continue "to live, move and have his being" for many sunny days #