CHAPTER 4
SADIE
Train to Chicago
May 1894
Heinrich went to his office rather than seeing them to the train. His farewell was warmer than Sadie had expected, but still held the message: I am not pleased with your choice. She left an affectionate note under his pillow and hoped he would soften when he found it.
The station at Broadway and Seventh bustled with activity. Mounds of bright lemons, red cabbage, and green broccoli were waiting to be loaded. Eastern markets for California produce had led to the wave of westward migration. The Oakland population had grown from ten thousand to fifty thousand residents in the twenty years Sadie had lived in California. It was small compared to the three hundred thousand occupants of San Francisco, but Oakland was a real city by any measure.
In most of the nation, these types of vegetables and fruits would not be ripe for months, or they wouldn’t grow at all. Through the modern technology of the railroads, this produce would travel thousands of miles, across the desert and lands recently covered with snow, to family tables in urban centers such as New York City and Boston. Sadie knew more than most women about the complex and fragile produce-export business because it was Heinrich’s work.
His employer, Mr. Spreckels, had made his fortune from the sale of California goods in the East. In turns Heinrich vented or boasted about the difficulties of his industry. Try as they might, no one could accurately predict when a product would be ripe. Heinrich’s job coordinating between the farmers, the railroads, and the produce markets in Chicago, Boston, and New York was immensely stressful. Intent on dominating all markets, not only sugar, Mr. Spreckels was continually expanding his reach and used Heinrich to do so.
Canning the produce at its peak and then sending it east in scheduled allotments was more labor-intensive, but it was an increasing part of their business. Very little produce was wasted if it was canned, and profits could be made year-round. However, it meant Heinrich had to oversee a growing number of demanding enterprises and their employees.
Sadie and Momma walked alongside the train, past the freight cars, the second-class cars, the dining and lounge cars, until they came to the second Pullman sleeping car. A short queue had formed at the door. The conductor taking tickets looked familiar, but Sadie only got a quick glance at his face before it was blocked by other passengers. By the time they got to the front of the line and he reached out for their tickets, her suspicion was confirmed.
“Cousin Willie?” she asked.
The man’s light-brown eyebrows knit in confusion, and then a huge grin appeared as he recognized the pair.
His eyes shimmered when he replied, “Is that my cousin Sadie? Aunt Lisbeth?!”
Sadie nodded at the handsome young man she hadn’t seen in a few years.
“Oh my!” he exclaimed. Then he opened his arms wide, embracing each one in turn.
“What a pleasant surprise,” Momma declared.
“How far are you traveling?” Willie asked.
“Chicago,” Momma explained. Then her voice got soft. “To see Mattie one last time.”
“Oh.” His face fell in sorrow. A loud sigh escaped from his body.
Sadie heard a loud throat clear from behind her. Getting the unspoken message, she said, “We must let the others board the train and allow you to do your job.”
“I’ll find you when I can so we can catch up,” he said.
“I hope to visit with your mother while we’re in Chicago,” Momma said. “We came in such a rush I didn’t have time to write to Emily to inform her that we’re coming.”
Momma rarely referred to Emily as a sister, though they’d been fathered by the same man and had grown up on the same plantation. Emily had been a house slave at Fair Oaks with no acknowledgment of her lineage, while Momma had had all the privileges that went with being the daughter of a planter in Virginia. It was hard for Sadie to reconcile the mother who raised her with the knowledge of Lisbeth’s childhood with Mattie and then Emily as her servants, her slaves.
Momma doled out information about her childhood in measured doses, if at all. She answered most questions about that time by saying, “It was a long time ago; I hardly remember.”
Aunt Emily, Uncle William, and Cousin Willie had been extended family to Sadie from the time they moved to Ohio when she was five until she moved to California when she was eleven.
In the intervening twenty years, they had not once seen Aunt Emily or Uncle William, though Momma and Emily traded letters on occasion. Cousin Willie had called on them a while back when he had been temporarily assigned to the Oakland route for one trip.
Willie’s eyes widened with concern.
“Is Aunt Emily unwell?” Sadie asked.
He shook his head almost imperceptibly. “Mother is fine.” He put a smile on his face, but his eyes were flat. “She will be glad to see you as well.”
Sadie felt dismissed and left with the suspicion that he was withholding information from them, but this wasn’t the time or place to press her cousin for answers.
Malcolm was waiting for them in the car. He was dressed in porter attire: dark pants, dark vest, and the signature round cap with a small brim and stiff sides.
Sadie opened her arms, ready to hug him, but when she saw him pull back, she dropped them. She had a deep affection for him because he was Miss Jordan’s son, but apparently he did not share the sentiment.
“Welcome aboard!” Malcolm greeted them.
“Thank you,” they chorused in unison.
“Have you ever ridden in a Pullman car?”
They both shook their heads.
“You will be amazed to find it as comfortable as the finest hotel in Europe.”
He gestured with a tilt of his head for them to follow. They walked down the right side of the wood-trimmed car, passing three pairs of seats on the left. Malcolm stopped and waved toward two wide chairs covered in a rich-green brocade that faced one another next to a large window—their home for the journey.
“This will be your living room, dressing room, and bedroom,” he explained. He gestured to gold velvet curtains hanging by the windows. “These are for privacy, should you desire it day or night.”
He pulled up a board nestled behind the seat. “When you are ready to sleep, this comes up to make a partition between you and your neighbors.”
He patted the cushions and said, “This folds into the lower bunk. The upper bunk is here.” He tapped a rounded wooden cabinet that bulged in the elegant ceiling. “The water closets are at each end. The smoking car for the men is this way, and the lounge is down here.”
Malcolm explained the route of the train, details about stops, and the etiquette for the dining car.
“Where do you recommend we keep this?” Momma showed him the glass that held a plant with three bright poppy flowers.
He raised his eyebrows.
“For your grandmother,” Sadie explained.
Malcolm broke into a wide grin. “She is going to be delighted. I wish I’d thought of it myself.”
He took the glass and set it on the armrest by the window.
“Will that work? I can bring twine to attach it so it won’t fall.”
“That is perfect,” Momma replied. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Malcolm replied in earnest. “Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything else. I’m your guide and at your service.”