Monday, May. 23, 1955

Clear Track for the Santa Fe

Clear Track for the Santa Fe

Outside the little northern Texas town of Krum last week, a platoon of railroad workers spaced gft. ties along a new track bed, spotted rails over tie plates and pounded home the spikes. This was no ordinary track-laying; the gandy dancers were laying the longest stretch of new line--49 miles--in the U.S. in 20 years.

The line will connect the Santa Fe Railroad's Chicago-Galveston main line directly with fast-growing Dallas, cut 63 miles off a roundabout route south of Fort Worth for Dallas-bound freight, save up to half a day on delivery. Passengers will also collect a dividend. Starting next December, Dallas residents, who now go ignominiously to Fort Worth to catch the Texas Chief, will board it in their own city.

The Dallas spur is short when measured against the great era of railroad building. But it is a small indication of the aggressive railroading for which the Santa Fe has been famed ever since the first seven-mile stretch was laid near Topeka almost 100 years ago. By always reaching out for new customers, the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railway Co.

grew up to be the nation's longest (13,073 miles--see map), and, next to Union Pacific (which collects almost half its profits from oil and gas), the biggest moneymaker. The Santa Fe is also one of the most modern, e.g., it is the biggest road to be 100% dieselized, and its speedy (Chicago to Los Angeles in 40 hours), elegant Super Chief is the nation's most glamorous train, with a private dining room, barber, valet, and an occasional cocktail loungeful of Hollywood stars.

To explain how the Santa Fe reached its present eminence, President Fred Gurley, 66, has a ready answer. Says he: "Our business is a simple business. All we do is move something from one place to another. You look around for ways to move something with a minimum amount of effort and cost. You want to approach these things like a lazy person."

Opening the West. The first man to do things in the lazy Santa Fe style was a Topeka lawyer named Cyrus Holliday, who dreamed of running a railroad into the great Southwest to replace the prairie schooner. By 1890 he and a succession of strong-willed presidents had battled Indians, buffalo and rival railroaders to build or buy 9,000 miles of track. In 1894 the overextended Santa Fe went bankrupt and was picked up by Railroader Edward Ripley, who added 2,000 more miles of track by 1920, quadrupled the gross and put the company in a strong financial position. Thus the Santa Fe rolled smoothly through the Depression, paid dividends on its common stock almost every year.

In 1939, when Edward J. Engel, a Santa Fe veteran of 40 years, became president, he brought in, as executive vice president and heir apparent, young Fred Gurley, who started railroading at 17 as a Burlington clerk, made a name for himself as a diesel man. Engel had the vision to see how dieselization (with Gurley bossing the job) could give the Santa Fe greater speed, lower operating costs.

When Gurley stepped up to be president in 1944, he continued to experiment, liked to try "something new that'll do it better." Since World War II he has spent a whopping $532 million in capital improvements.

No More Iceboxes. In his own quiet way, Gurley had the Santa Fe build 150 mechanical refrigeration cars for frozen foods (about which Railroader Robert Young has talked for years but done nothing). For handling freight in Chicago's Corwith yard, Gurley tried something new: a conveyer belt to move carts to loading platforms. To eliminate the clack-ety-clack for passengers and save wear on equipment, the Santa Fe is now laying rail in 1,400-ft. strips, continuously welded to eliminate joints. To promote industrial growth in its domain the Santa Fe bought vast tracts near its tracks, persuaded industries to build new plants on them and, of course, ship by Santa Fe.

Cash & Carry. To keep up with the Santa Fe's far-flung ventures, Gurley spends more than half his time on the road, working and living in his streamlined business car. But railroading is not Gurley's whole life. He helped organize the drive for Eisenhower's nomination, fostered a six-week course at the University of Southern California (of which he is a trustee) to help his top personnel think clearly about the society in which they live. Despite the huge postwar expenditure, the road continued to pay dividends of $6-$8, last year paid off the last of its equipment debts. Although the Santa Fe's 1954 gross of $532 million made it the No. 4 railroad in revenues (after the Pennsylvania, New York Central and Southern Pacific), its $66 million net, helped by $7,000,000 from oil wells and uranium mining, was second in earnings (more than double the combined net of the Pennsy and the Central).

For the future, Gurley is optimistic about railroading in general and the Santa Fe in particular. He expects to buy or build 2,000 new freight cars this year, speed up schedules, order Talgo-type trains for short-haul passenger runs, add at least 75 full-length dome-lounge cars, double-deck chair cars and other lightweight passenger cars. Unlike some railroaders, Experimenter Gurley is not ready to admit defeat on passenger traffic. Says he: "Someway, somehow, we'll be able to get a change in the competitive conditions, so we don't operate at a loss."

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