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October 1971

. . .His Wonders to Perform

This railroad engineer has cause to ponder the mysteries of how things happen

I AM A RAILROAD ENGINEER. I had been sober six months and was sitting on the engine waiting for a signal. It was about 3:30 in the morning, closing time for gin mills. The night was cold and rainy, and no one would possibly be out but a railroad man or a drunk. My fireman said, "A drunk just staggered in front of our engine."

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