Thanks for... everything
Life is a funny, tragic tale (oxymoron!), where something small and seemingly unimportant can shape and affect more lives than one can imagine.
In late October of 1972, a twenty-three year old employee at Michael Reese Hospital was called into his supervisor's office. Once inside the office, the supervisor told him he would be fired if he continued to be chronically late. Shaken, the young man tried to figure out the changes he had to make, because he was good at his job, and he needed the job. His actions toppled the applecart, so to speak.
On the morning of October 30th, 1972, a hugely pregnant young woman was preparing for her daily routine. She woke her four year-old son up and got him ready for his day, both of them unaware that their lives were about to drastically change.
It was a cloudy day that 30th of October. The Illinois Central Gulf Train number 416 was running on time with no problems. That train was the regular train ridden by the twenty-three year-old Michael Reese employee. The train's engineer somehow overshot the 27th Street station and asked permission to back the train into the 27th Street Station. Permission was granted, and the engineer put the train into reverse.
In those days, the trains were operated differently than they are now. There were no flag signals to halt any other train coming north on the same track. An express train heading downtown saw green lights indicating it could go full speed ahead through the 27th Street station. On that cloudy, murky day, the engineer of the express train didn't see Train Number 416 until it was too late. He slammed on the brakes, but his train slammed into the back of Train Number 416, crashing through the rear car.
Forty-five people were killed and 332 were injured. As word of the accident spread, the hugely pregnant woman (who also worked at Michael Reese) went into labor, her anxiety and stress over the possibility of her twenty-three year-old brother being one of the deceased or wounded.
A co-worker named Vivian Scott held her hand during her labor, and she gave birth to an eight pound, nine ounce baby boy, and gave him the middle name 'Scott' after her co-worker. She found out that her brother had caught an earlier train for fear of being late again and losing his job. The baby boy's mother had been so sure she was having a girl that she only had names for girls in her mind. She wanted her child to have his own name, to not be named after his father, or any dead relatives. Her four-year old son named the new baby after his second favorite member of the Jackson Five, Marlon...
Today is my Uncle Donnie's birthday. He was the twenty-three year-old man who was always late for work, but decided to take an earlier train on October 30th, 1972, the day I was born. I'll be forty-six this year, and I can't imagine not having him in my life. He taught me about style, loyalty, and most importantly...love. He's only five and a half feet tall, but I think all of it is heart. He loves fiercely and abundantly, and he's always been the biggest supporter of his "favorite" nephew 'Duck' (Lol!). He took time off of work to keep me from being expelled in high school. He gave me my first job, when I volunteered at Michael Reese Hospital. Through thick and thin, highs and lows, my Uncle D has always had my back, no matter what. I owe him a breakfast or lunch date for his birthday, for which I'll gladly pay. Because in reality, I owe him so much more than that... How does a person pay back a debt of love, support, and understanding? Well... I try to do the right things mostly, and I strive to make my Uncle Donnie and my mother proud of the person they shaped me to be. I think they are...
I wrote this a year ago, and didn't realize it was never published.
Happy Birthday to my Uncle Donnie, and thank-you to the supervisor who made him take an earlier train. There wouldn't be a Marlon S. Hayes, author, etc., without my uncle's contributions to my character and beliefs... Peace and love.
Marlon Scott Hayes
