Joseph Henry Harley had traveled thousands of miles in his 32 years with the London, Midland & Scottish Railway, but he never left the bustling gloom of the Crewe railway yard near Liverpool. He was just a cog in its sprawling machine, driving a dumpy, asthmatic shunting engine back & forth, day after day. He never married, he never made many friends, he never talked much. He just watched the majestic trains passing him from places he had never seen, bound for places he would never know.
At 2:40 a.m. it was the grand Irish Mail chugging from Holyhead on the shores...
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