Ruby Robieson Bennett - Lowry Tales #3

Hanging the Mail

This will be an attempt to tell about the nighttime mail-hanging job, which several members of my family took part in. First I will explain exactly what is meant by “hanging the mail,” in case my readers do not know this.

At the time when our family lived in the Lowry Soo Line depot where my Dad was the Station Agent, there were two daytime trains.  No. 105 going eastward toward Minneapolis from Enderlin, ND, and the other one, No. 106 went from Minneapolis to Enderlin.  Going through our town during the noon hour, they were regularly scheduled to meet at Lowry. Night trains were scheduled differently. 

During the wee small hours of the night, the train going east was No. 109 and going west was No. 108.  These trains did not stop at Lowry, thus mail had to be hung on a crane and caught by an apparatus built for this purpose. The crane stood outdoors, a few yards away from the station, away from any nearby buildings of any sort. There, you could reach up to fasten the mailbags securely at the top and bottom. When the train sped through the station, the baggage man in readiness put out a long hook to catch the mail pouch and quickly bring it into the baggage car as the train sped on its way.

This only took a moment to complete, but much preparation went into this very important task. Different people helped at different times. Brother Jim had the job for a long time, until he left home for a job elsewhere.  Then Mom signed on for the job and the twins helped her – alternating each night, since they still had school to attend weekdays.

Pope County Historical Society

Winter days brought extreme hardships. To hang out that pouch during a winter storm, high winds, even a heavy downpour of rain was unpleasant.  Sometimes, for reasons that came up unexpectedly, the mailbag had been hung for one train – then it was reported delayed. The other train would arrive earlier, so the mailbags had to be changed accordingly! Maybe the time element was short here and the excitement grew!

Then, there was this event we all dreaded hearing about, but it did happen and we never knew who was to blame. The baggage man didn’t catch the mailbag – it went under the train wheels and was ground to tiny bits. When daylight came, Dad, my family, and crabby “I didn’t get my mail” people, crowded the sad scene but couldn’t discern any of the contents of the shredded mess. Fortunately, I don’t recall this happening very often.

My sister, Roberta, recently told me how Mom had to put on the earphones at Dad’s desk and hear the train dispatcher’s reports of the trains’ departure some stations down the line. This way, the dispatcher knew all the time where his trains were, and could give orders to proceed when necessary onto the side track, or stay on the main track and speed through town.

Roberta told me that Mom listened and when she heard the dispatcher ask for Lowry’s report, Mom would press the button and say (as we’d so often heard Dad report in the daytime) “OS Lowry” and giving the time the train departed. O, yes – Mom had depot blood in her veins, just like all of us at that place.

I must remember to mention also, that many nights when winter presented a very cold and stormy blizzard, Dad would be on deck helping the regular crew doing this job.

The wages were terrific! “Missing the mail” as they called it when they failed to hang it properly, at the right time, or for whatever reason, meant they were docked $1.00 each time! The paycheck was small to begin with, so if many misses were made, they were unhappy with the minuses.

Between usage, I can remember eyeing the mail crane near the tracks, not sure whether I liked it or not. Was it a friend or wasn’t it? It stood there so silently, almost in non-existence, but oh – the excitement it could help stir up in the wee, small hours some nights! Even we, who didn’t take part in the event, felt the ‘glory’ or the ‘gore,’ whichever was dished out on that eventful night.

Ruby Robieson Bennett
September 12, 2000