““All the other steam shovels were being sold for junk, or left out in old gravel pits to rust and fall apart. Mike loved Mary Anne. He couldn’t do that to her.''
Here are enduring themes: of man’s emotional bonds with machines; of the struggle against adversity; of the transforming effects – for good and ill – of new technology. In our times, we think ourselves assaulted by unprecedented forces of trade and business ““restructuring.’’ Well, it isn’t so. The changes of yesteryear were often more wrenching. Sometimes we need to remember. Virginia Lee Burton (1909-1968), who wrote ““Mike Mulligan,’’ had a genius for reducing these epic upheavals to small sagas of the human spirit.
In ““The Little House’’ (1942), she tells the story of a home built on a secluded hill that gradually becomes surrounded by roads and other homes and, finally, by the trolley tracks and towering apartments of a big city. This story would have been familiar to the parents and grandparents who first read ““The Little House.’’ In their lifetime, America had become a highly urbanized society. Consider Cleveland. In 1860, it had a population of 43,000; by 1930, that was 900,000. Its area exploded from seven square miles to 71. Steel mills and machine shops covered what had been farmland.
Ultimately, the granddaughter of the original builder spots the house and has it moved to a new hilltop far away from the city. Her act is not so much a denial of the city as a reaffirmation of old values. So it is with Mike Mulligan. The steam shovel’s downfall is but a footnote to the larger story of how electricity and internal-combustion engines replaced steam power. ““Throughout the 19th century, steam was the wonder energy source,’’ says Bill Withuhn, a curator at the Smithsonian Institution.
Most steam engines operated similarly. Coal was burned, boiling water and producing steam that pushed pistons. In factories, the pistons moved shafts and belts that powered machines that made furniture, clothes or tools. On farms, steam engines ran tractors; 85,000 were built between 1876 and 1931. And, of course, steam locomotives were one of the last survivors of the steam age. At the end of World War II, railroads had 40,000 of them; by 1960, most had been replaced by 27,000 diesel locomotives.
The diesels had many advantages. Steam engines had to stop every 50 miles for water and every 100 miles for coal; diesels didn’t. They had more standardized parts and needed less maintenance. Diesels operated 85 to 90 percent of the time, says Withuhn, compared with 60 to 70 percent for steam locomotives. ““The diesel was a lifesaver,’’ one railroad president said. But many managers were ““reluctant to get rid of the steam engine. The hard facts can be tough when you’re dealing with emotions.''
It wasn’t, of course, just emotions. Between 1945 and 1962, rail employment fell from 1.4 million to 700,000. Fewer engineers were needed; maintenance shops got smaller; fueling and watering stops were eliminated. Cities like Altoona, Pa. – with massive repair shops – were devastated. Similar forces assailed steam shovels in the 1920s and 1930s. ““Diesels were cheaper,’’ says Robert Vogel, an expert on old machines. ““There was no water supply [needed] and no ashes to haul out.''
Mike Mulligan was undaunted. He finds that the town of Popperville is planning a new town hall. ““We are going to dig the cellar of that town hall,’’ he says. In Popperville, Mike and Mary Anne meet selectman Henry B. Swap. Mike proposes digging the cellar in ““just one day’’ or not be paid. Swap figures that the job is impossible and that the town can get something for nothing. So, he smiles ““in a rather mean way’’ and says OK.
What a contest. Steam shovels made a racket. They belched smoke and steam. They creaked and groaned. Part of their romance was that everyone could see how they worked. Gears and cables were highly exposed. As Mike and Mary Anne begin, a crowd gathers to cheer them. The more people watch, the ““faster and better’’ they dig. The phone operator (this predates long-distance dialing) helps. She calls . . .
“”. . . the next towns of Bangerville and Bopperville and Kipperville and Kopperville and told them what was happening in Popperville. All the people came over to see if Mike Mulligan and his steam shovel could dig the cellar in just one day.''
As the sun sets, Mary Anne scoops out the last bucket of dirt. Everyone claps until someone notices that there’s no ramp to get out of the cellar. Mike and Mary Anne are stuck. Henry B. Swap smiles ““in a rather mean way’’ and says they won’t be paid. No one knows what to do until a boy suggests building the town hall over Mary Anne: let her be the boiler and Mike be the janitor. It’s settled; even Swap agrees.
And so, Americans triumph over adversity and embrace change. The struggling is necessary, even if all stories don’t end happily. We are inspired and reminded that upheavals today, though imposing, are less daunting than in the past. Meanwhile, Mike and Mary Anne remain in Popperville. They invite anyone passing through to visit. Until then, bye, Mike.
