Transcript
Chris Wimmer (0:00)
Savor every last drop of summer with Starbucks.
Narrator (0:03)
From bold refreshers to rich cold brews, the sunniest season only gets better with.
Chris Wimmer (0:08)
A handcrafted iced beverage in your hand.
Narrator (0:10)
Available for a limited time, your summer favorites are ready at Starbucks. This episode is brought to you by Polestar. There's only one true way to experience the all electric luxury SUV Polestar 3, and that's to take a test drive. It can go from 0 to 60 in as little as 4.8 seconds with the dynamic handling of a sports car. But to truly understand how it commands the road, you need to be behind the wheel. Up to 350 miles of range. The 3D surround sound system by Bowers and Wilkins. It's all something you have to experience to believe. So book your Test drive for Polestar 3 today@Polestar.com at the start of the 1860s, the thought of a railroad running from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean seemed like an impossible dream. But by the end of the decade, that dream was on the verge of coming true. It took a bloody and costly civil war to finally put the dream into motion. President Abraham Lincoln saw the importance of railroads to the Union cause, and he convinced Congress to allocate funds for a nationwide track. Throughout the back half of the 1860s, two railroad companies, the Union Pacific and the Central Pacific, laid rails across America. They traversed prairies, mountains and deserts. They blasted tunnels through granite, built bridges over rivers, and survived Native American attacks. They lived through blistering heat, freezing cold, sandblasting dust storms and whiteout blizzards. And for the Union Pacific workers, most of them anyway, they lived through hell on wheels towns. In the town of Echo, Utah, where Echo Canyon turns into Weber Canyon, it was said that seven skeletons were found under one saloon when the Union Pacific left town. By May of 1869, more than 1,500 miles of track had been laid, tens of thousands of Chinese, Irish, and American workers, and hammered millions of iron spikes into place. Now they knew it was only a matter of days until the final spike would be hammered home. But it was still a race. The Union Pacific approached the final meeting spot of Promontory Summit, Utah from the east. The Central Pacific approached from the west. There were just a couple miles of open ground between the two railroads, and they both wanted to claim the land by being the first to lay tracks on it. Whichever railroad could build a siding first, a short track that ran parallel to the main line. It could claim the rights to the land. The claim would give the winning railroad the legal ability to manage Operations set fees and control future development. And if the winner could also build a Y track, its position would be even stronger. A wye track was a triangular junction of rails that allowed a locomotive to turn around without a turntable. The Central Pacific had already negotiated a deal to give it eventual control over the all important town of Ogden, Utah. In the most basic terms, Ogden would be the business headquarters of the new completed railroad. But since Promontory Summit was the ceremonial junction of the two railroads, the one everyone would know and celebrate, it still held immense power. Both railroads wanted it. Charles Crocker of the Central Pacific made his move. He ordered a special construction train to be loaded with supplies. And he assembled a crew of seasoned Chinese workers. The plan was to send James Strowbridge, the Central Pacific superintendent and the Chinese crew out on on May 10 and begin construction on the siding and wye track in the pre dawn hours. Hopefully they could finish the work before the Union Pacific learned of the attempt. But Crocker wasn't the first person with the idea. Unfortunately for him, he was the second. On the night of May 9, Grenville Dodge of the Union Pacific sent his crews to do the same thing. They worked all night under lantern light. And when the Central Pacific crew showed up the next morning before dawn, the Union Pacific siding and Y track were complete. The UP men stood alongside their finished work, grinning and laughing at the thwarted Californians. The question of who won the great race to build the transcontinental railroad would never really be answered. It was too big and too broad. But at the very end, the Union Pacific managed to snag one final victory by claiming the last patch of ground before the big golden spike ceremony. From Black Barrel Media, this is Legends of the Old West. I'm your host, Chris Wimmer. And this season is hell. On the epic story of the transcontinental railroad. Despite countless hardships and obstacles, the Union Pacific and the Central Pacific did what many thought was impossible. They connected the American nation by rail. This is episode six golden spike. When the sun rose on May 10, 1869, the first transcontinental railroad was a few hours away from being finished. Over the last few days, people had poured into northern Utah for the celebrations. Excitement built across the country as trains loaded with dignitaries, executives and reporters headed west to Promontory Summit to witness the ceremony. The triumphal moment was supposed to happen on May 8. But true to form, the Union Pacific suffered one last delay. On the morning of May 6, a Union Pacific train approached an isolated outpost called Piedmont, Wyoming. Piedmont was a tie Cutting Camp nestled in the foothills just east of the Utah border. And as the train approached, trouble brewed in camp. Word passed that a special guest was in the lead car. His presence fueled anger. A mob of around 300 laborers armed themselves and waited for the train to pull in. They had a score to settle. For months, the men had worked without pay, and now they wanted to confront the man who had withheld their wages, vice president of the Union Pacific, Thomas Durant. Durant wasn't the only important man in the lead car. He was accompanied by John Duffy, the railroad company's director. The two men were on their way to Promontory first, the big celebration. But as the train neared Piedmont, it jolted to a stop. Durant and Duffy, as well as other passengers on the train, looked out the windows and were shocked to see railroad ties had been piled on the tracks to block the way. Then the gunshots started. Bullets splintered the wood panel siding of the train cars, shattered windows, and sparked as they hit metal. Passengers who were able to glance outside saw a mob of disgruntled workers headed their way. In no time at all, the mob had uncoupled Durant's private car from the rest of the train, locked the switches, and waved the remaining cars down the track without their prestigious passengers. Durant stormed to the door of his car and demanded answers from the mob. The mob's spokesman said they wanted what they were owed, more than $200,000. The railroad executives would not be allowed to leave until the workers received their pay. Durant said he didn't have that much cash on him, but he sympathized with their plight. The workers were serious about their demands. They seized Durant and escorted him at gunpoint to a nearby telegraph office. There, Durant sent two wires. One wire went to Oliver Ames in Boston, the Union Pacific's acting president, and begged for cash. The second went to Grenville Dodge, who was in Echo City, Utah, and pleaded for help. Dodge's first instinct was to call in the military. He telegraphed nearby Fort Bridger and requested soldiers to free Durant and the others. But the message was intercepted. The sympathetic Piedmont telegraph operator passed the message to the workers. The workers sent a reply to Dodge. If troops show up, the hostages will suffer. And if the workers demands weren't met within 24 hours, they would launch a general strike stretching from Omaha to Ogden. Dodge scrambled to contain the situation. He sent telegrams to Oliver Ames and demanded an immediate $50,000 as a gesture to calm the men. Dodge warned that if the company delayed things would spiral out of control so close to the end, a strike would be a disaster for the Union Pacific. Oliver Ames and his brother Oakes hurried to raise the money. Later reports suggested Durant eventually turned over about $250,000 to the workers. The Union Pacific avoided a strike, but the truth of any situation involving Thomas Durant was murky. Shortly after the supposed crisis was averted, Grenville, Dodge and Oliver Ames became suspicious. They wondered if Durant had orchestrated the whole thing himself. As it turned out, the rebellious workers were largely employed by Davis and Associates, a contractor that was deeply tied to Durant's financial interests. Dodge and Ames suspected that Durant had engineered the hostage crisis to force the Union Pacific to pay off contracts that benefited him personally. The workers probably received some of the money, but it would surprise no one if Durant kept some of the cash for himself. Whatever the truth was, Durant and Duffy were freed and their train continued west toward the big ceremony at Promontory Summit.