Talcott, West Virginia...1873
I looked at the machine and then the other workers surrounding me. I heard their complaints, their fears and insecurities about losing their jobs to that infernal contraption and that man who brought it here.
The man boasted his machine could beat us all in completing the railway. Us working the railway saw this as some kind of foreboding doom where machines would take over our jobs. Who would feed their kids, take care of their wives and provide for their needs if a machine did a man's job?
I was the only one who dared to defy the machine, to take up a hammer in each of my hands and race against it. Frank, who brought the machine, laughed at me. I made him a bet and he took it gladly. Whoever finished the railway first in a race would win. The loser packs their bags and goes home, but if I won the railway workers would keep their jobs. That was my condition but Frank seemed undeterred, no doubt thinking he would easily win. He took the deal.
The date was set and I was ready. Early the next morning, the race began and I worked hard throughout the day. A hammer in each of my hands, I pounded away as I worked furiously to beat the machine. The machine was fast, but I was faster. I gained a significant lead so I determined I would beat the monstrosity so completely, there would be no chance of this happening again in the future. I wanted to embarrass Frank, who was looking rather desperate at this point.
That night, I did not sleep well. The next day, I was up just before the crack of dawn as I took up my hammers again and got to work. By noon the race was over and I claimed victory. But I had overworked my body and I collapsed, seemingly dying hours later and my name would go down in history as a folk tale.
But what most do not know is that I did not die that day. What is kept out of the folk tale is something they do not want you to know. But that is a story for another time...
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