Monday, Jul. 02, 1951

The Troubles of the Pennsy

As casually as a switching engineman shunting a string of milk cars into a siding, the Pennsylvania Railroad announced last week that it will lop 40 passenger trains off its schedules, effective July 8. Twenty-five commuter trains will be dropped from Philadelphia's heavily traveled Main Line and other suburban areas; long-distance service in & out of Pittsburgh will be reduced by seven trains, and cuts will be made on trains going into Chicago, St. Louis, Baltimore and Buffalo. The Pennsy's explanation was curt and businesslike: it is losing money on passenger traffic and thinks that the way to cut its losses is to cut out money-losing runs.

There is great doubt that this explanation will satisfy the Pennsy's passengers, who are not only the country's most numerous (75 million a year) but who also feel they are the most put upon. In their opinion, the Pennsylvania Railroad, which pulls in more revenue than any other U.S. road, and hauls 20% of all U.S. passenger traffic on its 10,000 miles of track, is far from being the country's best.

The Pennsy's commuters have been the most vocal because they feel they have suffered the most. The sad and bloody history of the Long Island Rail Road, the Pennsy's bankrupt subsidiary, is not the only black mark. Clevelanders, who have had four suburban stops lopped off in the past year, fear that other stations will soon be wiped off the map. New Jerseyites have formed a "protective association" to get some action on such claimed commutation hazards as wooden trestles, high fares, and cars that let in snow and soot in the winter, heat and grime in the summer. Philadelphians, where the bulk of commuters ride, are kinder. Said one: "When we knock the Pennsy, we knock it gently, like an old pipe or a good wife."

Pony Express. Many passengers on longer runs match the commuter complaints. Among their gripes: old equipment (an average 31 years for Pennsy coaches v. the national average of 26), old stations, dirty cars, tasteless food, poor safety and on-time performance, and the churlishness of employees.

In Cleveland, the Pennsylvania's ancient, dingy Lakefront station has also been a sore point for years. In 1914 one irate user called it a "pig pen;" only four years ago the Cleveland Press vainly campaigned to get it replaced, offered suitable prizes to anyone who could remember the day it opened in 1866. Sample awards: "lithograph of President Lincoln, free ride in next stagecoach passing through Cleveland . . . views of pony express for your stereoscope."

Sore Point. The Canton, Ohio station is just as sore a point with some; one passenger described its men's room as "a place that would turn a vulture's stomach." But what irritates a few Cantonians most is the grudging attitude of Pennsylvania employees toward passengers. Said Assistant Vice President H. W. Hoover Jr. of the Hoover (vacuum cleaners) Co.: "They show . . . utter disregard of their responsibility to the public." Hoover executives are so indignant that they refuse to ride the Pennsy from Chicago to their headquarters at Canton.

Even on the Pennsylvania's most profitable passenger run--New York to Washington--the complaints pile up: the food is often poorly prepared, the roadbed rough, the coaches littered. Many a New Yorker will spend an extra hour, ride the Baltimore & Ohio to Washington to avoid the discomforts of Pennsy travel.

Bill for Improvements. More recently there has been another complaint about the system. In the first four months of this year, Pennsylvania Railroad accidents killed 83 people, injured another 792. (In the latest wreck, in May, in which eight were killed, the engineer was reported to have complete vision in only one eye.) All these grievances have left many Pennsylvania passengers feeling sure that the Pennsy wants to get rid of the job of carrying its 75 million passengers, devote all its efforts to moneymaking freight.

The Pennsy's rangy (6 ft. 7 in.), 67-year-old President Walter Franklin vehemently denies any such plan. The Pennsylvania, he says, is spending $587 million for new and renovated equipment, more unitwise than any other railroad in the U.S. Of this, 22% is going toward improving passenger service, which accounts for only 15% of the Pennsy's revenues. The Pennsy has already bought 386 new coaches and 211 new sleepers, completely rebuilt 203 of its 1,849 old coaches. It has spent $274 million on a huge dieselization program, now 92% complete, and is laying down 300 miles of new heavy track at a cost of $15 million. Says Franklin: "We don't brag about our roadbed; it needs work done on it. But there was never any time when our motive power and our cars were in better shape."

As for safety, Franklin points out that there was not a single wreck on the line from 1947 to 1950. The Pennsy's record as of last December (before the last two big wrecks) was only 2.5 casualties per million passengers carried v. the national average of 3.4. To improve its safety, the Pennsy is now spending $10 million for a new system of electronic speed controls.

Hard to Please. Many of the passenger complaints, says Franklin, are just a matter of opinion. "Every railroad," he says, "gets them." Even the ones that are valid, says he, are hard to correct. The road last year tried out the European system of taking table-d'hOte orders ahead of time and staggering meals, soon gave it up when passengers said that "they weren't going to be told when and what to eat."

To help improve its passenger relations, the Pennsy started a "courtesy contest" among its Pittsburgh employees, conducted a commuter survey, and bought a $90,000 cleaning machine in answer to gripes about dirty cars. Similar programs are now being started elsewhere.

Actually, the Pennsy feels it has little inducement to treat its passengers better. Says Franklin: "In 1950, it cost the Pennsylvania $1.15 to earn each dollar on its passenger business. We lost $49 million on our passenger business* last year; the more passengers you have the more money you lose. We want passengers, but we want them on profitable runs like New York to Washington. Since the war we have cut our passenger mileage by 33.4% in an effort to eliminate unprofitable routes."

More cuts are ahead. Franklin thinks that passenger traffic will pay by 1) more dieselizing, 2) new equipment, 3) cuts in unprofitable runs, 4) fare raises.

The Pennsylvania's Chairman Martin Clement goes even further. Says he: "The locals will all gradually disappear, and the sidelines will disappear as far as passenger service is concerned. The main services [e.g., through New York, Washington, Chicago, Detroit, etc.] must of necessity be operated at a profit."

* Which also includes losses on baggage and mail which ICC lumps with passenger revenues.

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