Back in the mid-’70s, there were quite a few folks in the Civil Service who had to take the choice of either a lower-paying job or being laid-off altogether. Cops becoming Bus Operators was the least of it. People in jobs that had several steps to full pay/qualifications were stuck at the step they were in – a progression from one step to the next that ordinarily took one year took five years.
Although I though Ralph and Norton had the seniority to escape that bit, unless they took it voluntarily – which was an option ;-)
Of course, now 98% of the old farts like me who remember those times are either retired or dead by now.
I was off work that day. When I found out what happened, I immediately called The Job and told them to put me to work. I knew the natural instinct would be for people to run from the city; but New York is my town, and my great-grandfather was out on the fireground as a firefighter and officer for 45 years – it’s my instinct to run in when all others are running out.
After calling around the railroad, I wound up working the second half of a North White Plains job. The regular engineer had gone home after his first half, but couldn’t get back because he lived in Rockland County and all the bridges were closed.
Running my first train in was – eerie. Weird. Very disturbed, and disturbing, energy in the air. As you got further south in the Bronx, even the very air reeked. The dust and haze in the air wasn’t the normal late-summer afternoon air.
Then the smoke plumes came into view.
Grand Central Terminal was a very odd, different place that afternoon. The sense of shock when you went outside the train gates was palpable. Inside, we did our job, and we did what we could to get a city full of stunned, shocked people home.
Every commuter rail station with a parking lot has a sea of cars in it once the morning-rush folks got on their trains to work. The cars that didn’t move out of the lot for weeks afterwards told their own silent story.
I remember. I seek not for vengeance, for that isn’t my way. Instead, I work and pray for justice, and healing.
I see Mr. Bigg is showing his head-crooked-on-neck tic again, in the last panel – he’d looked quite straightened-out for a bit there.
Also, thanks to our little commenter community here – all of you make it worthwhile to actually take the time to read the comments on Dick Tracy – it’s a breath of fresh air!
Mr. Bigg’s appearance in the first panel definitely conveys the aspect of someone who’s both certifiable and diabolical. Darn near sent chills down my spine!
So it isn’t just me who noticed everyone in the strip looked green around the gills, eh? Thanks for the reality check!