Word: granded
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...glowed and twinkled with extra calls. Business firms dismissed employes hours early. In trickles, then torrents, the city's half-million commuters headed for trains. So did thousands of nervous travelers. By 3 o'clock (Eastern Standard Time), vast, gloomy Penn Station was jammed. Both levels at Grand Central were packed with rumpled, sweating, anxious crowds...
...Truman picked up his telephone. Once before, in the last half hour, he had talked with two men in Cleveland who could prevent the awful smash: Alexander Fell Whitney, the big-jawed, well-tailored president of the Brotherhood of Railway Trainmen (211,000 members) and Alvanley Johnston, the crotchety Grand Chief of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers (78,000 members). Now he talked again, and this time-just 26 minutes before the strike deadline-he got a promise. The strike was off, for five days, and the Messrs. Whitney & Johnston would return to Washington and resume negotiations with the railroad...
...nation got a foretaste of what a railroad strike would be like. Trains clanked into towns-and stopped. Freights stood still on many a main line. At Manhattan's Pennsylvania Station many rail workers went to their lockers, put away their uniform caps and walked off. At Grand Central Station the Twentieth Century Limited was dead on its wheels seven hours after the President's announcement. So were hundreds of trains across the nation, in the worst passenger jam of modern railroading history...
...last leg Musk-Ox bogged down. The snowmobiles which had licked the northern wilderness could not take modern highway conditions. On the gravel of the Alaska Highway their engines became clogged with dust, the heat in the vehicles became unbearable. At Grand Prairie, Alberta, with but 250 miles to go to Edmonton, Musk-Ox called for help. A special train was sent up. Eighty days out of Churchill, Manitoba, the weary men of Musk-Ox were glad to load their snowmobiles on the train, pile on themselves for the ride to their goal...
...minutes the delegates whooped, rang bells, filled the air with paper showers and snake-danced around the dingy hall. They sang Solidarity Forever and On the Picket Line while Convention Secretary Lou Goldblatt banged on a grand piano...