Spann

The Santa Fe Depot In Temple, Texas, home of the Superintendent's office and headquarters to the Southern Division.
He was a man with religion, although I never heard him pray. I never heard him tell a joke, but he was funny and would smile at yours. He was a big man with hands of steel , a champion's champion but not a trophy or plaque displayed. He was the boss's boss but never did he announce the fact nor did he ever drive a new car. He loved to go fishing and was very good at it, though he would never claim to be a fisherman. He's gone now, everything prepaid, no funeral, no memorial service, because he wanted it that way. No attorneys needed because everything he had ever purchased was purchased under his sweet wife's name.

It was late 1978 and I was working as the young Safety Officer for the Southern Division of the Santa Fe Railroad, headquartered in Temple, Texas. We had just received a new Superintendent by the name of Bill Spann. I was in my office gathering facts and figures concerning our safety program and performance should I be summoned by the Superintendent to review the program. I had files and papers scattered everywhere in the office when the phone rang. It was the Superintendent's secretary calling to tell me the Superintendent wanted to see me as soon as possible.

In a frenzy, I gathered my files, adjusted my tie, put on my coat and nervously stumbled up the stairs with files tucked under both arms....I was ready to answer any safety related question. As I arrived at his office, his secretary told me to go on in. I walked into his office and Mr. Spann was sitting behind his huge desk talking on the phone. I stood nervously for what seemed like forever, when he looked up and motioned for me to sit down.

After a few minutes, he hung up the phone and stood up, walked from behind the desk and shook my hand. As I stood in front of this distinguished, silver headed gentleman, all I could think of as he shook my hand was "Wow, what a grip!" His hand was rough, calloused and had the grip of a vise, not a hand that I would envision belonging to the head of an operating division of the Santa Fe Railroad.

"So, you're the Division Safety Supervisor, I've heard good things about you," he said. "Briefly go over our safety performance and tell me about what you have in place for a safety/accident prevention program," he continued.

I cleared my throat and began rattling off statistics and standings and the safety programs I had in place to hopefully reduce our injuries and instill a new pride in our safety performance. He sat, leaning back in his chair, and listened to my every word without interruption. As I staggered to a finish, Mr. Spann said that it sounded very ambitious. He added if I ever ran into a problem with support from the field employees or with other supervision, let him know and it would be taken care of.

He then rose from his chair, told his secretary he didn't want to be disturbed for a bit and then closed his office door. I had only been in management for a very short time and had yet to adjust to being one myself, so when he closed that door I felt like I would surely suffocate. He slowly walked behind his desk, leaned back in his throne, I mean chair, and said, "I understand you are a fisherman and that you always catch a lot of fish on weekends."

Being that most supervisors came into the office on weekends and met with the Superintendent for coffee and discussions, I figured I was about to change my weekend schedule and it wouldn't include fishing. But, I didn't see any point in making excuses so I told him that I did go fishing on most weekends and I did usually catch fish. I went on to say that I always carried my pager, I was always available for work and that I didn't drink coffee.

He smiled and then asked, "Just where do you catch all these fish?"

"Lake Belton, just a twenty minute trip from my house and I can be fishing," I answered.

He began asking me what kind of fish I caught, what did I fish with and did I have a boat? A little more relaxed than before, I answered all his questions. He told me that he loved to fish, that he had an old bass boat but that most all his fishing over the past twenty years had been up on the lakes of Minnesota and he wasn't sure about how that would relate to Texas fishing. I told him I would be happy to get him a lake map and mark it for him. He seemed very appreciative as I left his office a little more relaxed and happy to still have a job.

As I walked back into my office the Road Foreman of Engines, Bob Gaines, who shared the office, had a grin from ear to ear. "Well, did you ask the boss to go fishing?" her asked.

I told him no, that I had not asked the Superintendent to go fishing.

"The boss had asked me about fishing around this area and I told him you were the person to talk to. I can't believe you didn't ask him to go fishing, that's the reason he called you up there," Bob continued.

"Well, I never gave a thought to asking the Superintendent to go fishing. I did tell him I would bring him a map of the lake, I'll ask him then," I answered, thinking to myself I was too far down the totem pole to be rubbing elbows with the top dog.

I rushed out to the local sporting goods store, purchased a map and returned to the office to mark all my prime fishing locations. I then rushed up the stairs not having any idea how you go about asking the Superintendent to go fishing. As I reached his office, I noticed the door was closed, so I sat next to his secretary's desk and asked how long it would be before I could see the boss. He said that Mr. Spann had appointments for the rest of the afternoon meeting with union dignitaries and other division officials. I told the secretary it wasn't important, I would talk to him another day.

I was actually relieved as I returned to my office, at least I wouldn't have to worry about this fishing invitation for another day or so. I had no more than settled into my office when the door opened and in stepped Mr. Spann. "You looking for me," he asked?

I stuttered and him hawed around for a few seconds, but was finally able to spit out that I had the lake map I had mentioned to him. He seemed anxious to see it as I spread it over my desk. I pointed out all the dos and don'ts on the map and he asked some surprisingly good questions for a person who had spent as much time as he had up north. We finished our map discussions and he sat down in a chair in front of my desk. "Well, Mr. Spann, if you would like to go fishing sometime, I'd be glad to take you," I finally blurted out.

"You want to take my boat or yours," he asked?

I told him we could take my boat.

"How 'bout Saturday morning? What time will I need to be ready," he asked?

That's the way it went the day I met Superintendent Bill Spann. Little did I know then how much of an effect he would have on me. It didn't take long for me , as well as others who were fortunate enough to work with him, to see Bill Spann had a wealth of knowledge, he worked hard and he enjoyed life. He was a firm but fair leader who put up no false fronts.

Work and maintaining a smooth operating railroad was always a priority with Bill Spann, but it was not his only priority. He believed in enjoying life and if the railroad permitted, we went fishing on weekends. This was a time before cell phones, but he always carried a packset radio with all the railroad frequencies and when we went to the lake, about five miles away, he would always go by the Chief Dispatcher's Office and tell him, "I'll be on my packset," and the Chief would know that meant he was heading to the lake.

Along with my office, on the bottom floor of the old Temple Santa Fe Depot, there were a half dozen or so other supervisors' offices and most mornings, when I was in town, around ten and afternoons around three, the other officials as well as a few of the clerks from up in the Superintendent's office would meet in my office for coffee/coke break. To make things interesting we would all put a dollar in the "pot" and either play guess the number between one and a million or play liars' poker and whoever won the pot, bought the drinks.

This is lobby of the Santa Fe depot  in Temple, Texas. My office was just to the left before walking through the double doors.

Well, one afternoon, we were all gathered in my office with our dollar bills in hand when Mr. Spann walked in. I've never seen dollar bills disappear so fast. He asked what was going on and I told him we were fixin' to see who was going to buy the drinks. Mr. Spann said he was in and asked how we determined who the buyer was. I swallowed real hard and said, "Liars' poker!"

With that Mr. Spann said, "Pull them dollars back out boys and let's get this show on the road."

I'm not sure, but it seems like Mr. Spann won that pot. For about fifteen minutes we were a bunch of railroaders laughing, talking and enjoying each other's company...not the Superintendent, several railroad officials and a few clerks, just folks enjoying a break from work. From that point on, when in town, Mr. Spann would come downstairs for break. You could hear him coming down the hall, knocking on doors and hollering, "Come on down to Terry's office!"

There were other things that put Mr. Spann in a league of his own. Before his tenure as Superintendent began, previous Superintendents would have big managers/officials parties about every three months or so and for Christmas. Mr. Spann stopped those parties saying that we all saw each other way too much at work as it was, it didn't make sense to require us to spend our family time together also. He also didn't feel it was right for officials to go out drinking and partying when they were subject to be called to work anytime.

Also, the company paid for the Superintendent's membership at the Temple Country Club. Bill Spann cancelled that membership saying that money could be better spent some other way.

Even simple things set him apart from other high ranking officers. He would always introduce himself as Bill Spann. Not Superintendent Spann or Bill Spann Superintendent. He once told me that it was not necessary to tell folks what your title is, that most already knew, especially if you're doing your job the way it should be. There were many times when he learned of a person who had an illness in the family, a death or tragedy of some sort and he would tell them not to worry about the railroad or their job, to take whatever time they needed to take care of their family.

Time passed and weekend fishing trips, when we weren't working, became a regular event. If Mr. Spann was going out on a tour of the Division, or if there was a derailment or accident of some kind, he would call me and ask me to travel with him if I was available. Each trip was always a learning experience. He would always explain his thought process and would ask me questions, not because he didn't know the answer but to make sure I did. Of course another benefit of traveling with Mr. Spann was we never drove past a sporting goods store without going in and checking out the fishing lures.

As the years past and Mr. Spann came closer to retirement, he would call down to my office occasionally and ask if I was busy. Of course I would always say yes, very busy. Then he would tell me to go home for lunch and instead of coming back, load up my boat and meet him at the lake. I would always say, "You're the Boss!"

He loved the lake, he loved to fish. As we sat out on beautiful Lake Belton that particular afternoon he leaned back and said, "Even though we don't have assigned hours at work, I guess technically we are screwing the Company, but one thing is for sure, before the end of the week, the Company will screw us back."

Later that week, after we had been working a derailment for thirty-six straight hours, Mr. Spann walked by me and simply said, "I told you!"

Many times, as he and I were fishing (and catching fish), the Chief Dispatcher would call on the radio and indicate that there was a need for us back on the railroad. We never hesitated, we always loaded the boat and were back at the office in twenty minutes. However, Mr. Spann once said that when he retired, he was going to build a little wooden boat, take it to the lake, place the pack set radio on it, push it out into the water, set it on fire and give it a Viking funeral.

Several times before he retired, Mr. Spann asked me if I would be interested in a promotion. I told him, because I was young and had a young family, I would prefer not to be promoted for now due to the fact it would most likely mean relocating and I would like for the kids to stay in the same school system as long as possible. He said he understood but to keep it in mind because he felt I was certainly qualified and he wanted to help me while he was in a position to do so. I thanked him and told him that it meant a lot to me for him to have confidence in me.

The day finally came for Mr. Spann to retire. The railroad lost a huge chunk of knowledge, loyalty and integrity that day. In keeping with his history, he refused a retirement party. However, on his last day, he came down to my office for coffee/coke break and we gave him a huge tackle box loaded with fishing equipment from money his faithful coworkers had given. He cried, several of us did.

For a couple of years after his retirement we still fished on weekends, holidays and vacation days. Then in early 1988 the word came down that the Division headquarters in Temple, Texas was going to be shut down and we were going to be moved to the Dallas/Ft. Worth area. It was difficult saying goodbye to the place where I had spent the best ten years of my railroad life. Of course Mr. Spann was a big reason for that, but there were so many fine, loyal and hard working souls that had given their all to the grand ol' Santa Fe Railroad. Those that did not move with us would be missed.

The years passed more slowly after leaving Temple. I stayed in touch with Mr. Spann and we still fished when we could get together. I would drive down to Temple and stay with him and his sweet wife Clo on weekends and vacation days. They always made me feel like family. He and I would sit out on the lake and he would ask about the railroad and then just shake his head as I told him of all the changes his beloved railroad was going through.

More time passed and two heart attacks took their toll on this once strong heart. He was told nearly half of his heart was no longer functioning properly, if at all. It slowed him some with his chores around the house but only slowed his fishing for a while. We still met when we could for our occasional fishing outing. He would always tell me which pocket his Nitro pills were in and then never mention his health again.

When I close my eyes and dream, I can still see him doing what he loved best.

Yes he loved to fish. The thing he liked second best was to talk about fishing. He loved fishing and if fish were caught, that even made it better, no matter who actually caught the fish. It has been a while ago, but doesn't seem so, he went fishing with his mailman, caught a bunch of fish, came home, put the charger on his boat batteries so they would be charged for the trip the next morning. He shared supper with his loving wife, told her about all the fish they had caught that day and told her he was going to call Terry and get him down there while the fish were biting, but went to bed early instead, excited about the next day's fishing trip. He went to sleep happy....and that is the way he left us. 
Last night I spent some time with my dear friend and even though I haven't seen him in many years, I have had some much needed conversations with him. It was so nice to see him, his bright smile and once again hear his slow, low toned words of wisdom. He hadn't changed since I last saw him and as he showed me the new fishing lures that he had found in the bargain basket, he spoke and as he spoke I sat and smiled, wishing I had the wisdom and patience of his years....I woke with a smile and a tear.... He was a friend, he shaped a big part of my life....I miss him terribly... what a wonderful dream!

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