Tidyman holds on for dear life

The Runaway Tram.

hanging1.jpg (34777 bytes)It was afresh Spring morning in 1901 and the birds in Howth were on top of every tree and bush busily building their nests. William Tidyman was up on high busily building too, but not a nest. Instead he was erecting the overhead electric cable for the future Sutton and Howth electric tramway. The section from Sutton to Waldrons Cross at the Summit had already been completed and Louis Cabens, the Italian proprietor of the Summit Hotel, was looking forward to customers arriving by the new electric trams. A new pavilion to serve tea and cakes to the Edwardian day trippers was already planned, and the magnificent Crimson Lake and Ivory tramcars had been delivered to Sutton.

Tidyman was working aloft on the platform of a builders’ hand-pushed works tram at Bakers Lane, beside the Waverly Hotel. The view over Irelands Eye towards Lambay Island was breathtaking as Tidyman secured the brackets on the outreach pole. Soon the cable would be raised. He had been working overtime for weeks to cattch up on the backlog of work and the official opening of the line had been postponed twice. As he admired the view, he was not sure if the panoramic vista was stimulating him to a moving experience, but moving he was … . slowly down the hill.

”Good grief” thought Tidyman, breaking into a cold sweat, “a runaway tram”. The prospects were daunting. With all his strength he held on to the cross beam for dear life, yelling for his friends to come to his aid.

He was in a dilemma. Should he stay on the works car and helplessly watch it gather momentum, or should he abandon ship? He chose the latter and with all his might, raised himself onto the outreach. He yelled loudly for his mates as he watched the works tram slowly vanishing in the distance.

After a refreshing few pints his friends at last emerged from Cabenas, (now Gaffney’s), and they stopped in horror and wonderment; there was no sign of either the tram or Tidyman. “I’m up here, you eejits,” roared Tidyman and he frantically related his tale of woe.

Fearing a calamity his friends sped off down the hill in hot pursuit of the missing tram, leaving poor Tidyman aloft. Meanwhile, further down, the track layers were finalising some details at McGlues Bank. “My God’ , cried one as he watched with horror the approaching tram. His fellow workers ducked for cover but he took off in the same direction as the runaway tram and swung on to her as she glided past. He applied the brake and she screeched to a grinding halt.

Slowly and painfully the tram was pushed uphill until Bakers Lane was reached. There was poor Tidyman still holding on for dear life, beads of perspiration and profuse verbiage spilling from his mouth.

It was a much relieved and exhausted linesman that descended the platform.

On reaching terra firma his arms were noticeably longer. “Now I know what it is like to be an apple,” he is said to have remarked.

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