Thats the way I heard it

| September/October 1964

The plant engineers waited for zero weather, blocked up solidly underneath with ice, tore away other supports, kept a crew on hand to see that the ice melted evenly, and let the big engine settle inch by inch, week by week into place.

And a Milwaukee man said, that in one of the big breweries there, a governor 'gave out' and a huge engine reved up to a point where a multi-ton fly wheel disintegrated, wrecked all four floors of that wing, killed several persons, and spilled enough beer to float the Delta Queen.

A somewhat similar accident is said to have occurred here in Evansville, Indiana, when an engineer was tuning up a three-hundred horse power double engine belted to a pump on an Ohio River dredge boat. He got the valves set right for one cylinder, but missed it on the other. When he opened the trottle the engine rocked back and forth a couple of times, started with a surgelocked and stopped dead except for a dozen pieces of the big flywheel which tore loose, ripped through the bottom and the super structure, and made a shambles of the boat.

One big piece crashed through a room where a night watchman was sleeping, and gave him such a scare that he gave up whiskey and cussing and went to church every Sunday the rest of his life.

A railroad man I knew told of a buddy of his who was riding the cow catcher around a curve at the top of a steep grade somewhere in the mountains. I believe it was in one of the Carolinas. Suddenly a cylinder head let go and shot like a Mike missle up through the brush, and into and out ofan innocent looking old wooden shack on the mountain side. While he watched, spell bound, two men scampered out of the shack and disappeared in the woods like squirrels.

When the train crew investigated they found a big still and a batch of 'cawn licker' cooking off in the building But the moonshiners were not heard from for days. They thought the revenue men were shooting at them with cannons.