title: Station Master on the Underground Railroad: The Life and Letters of Thomas Garrett, rev. ed.
author:  James A. McGowan 
description: Thomas Garrett, a Quaker from Wilmington, Delaware, had a genial disposition unless provoked to defend his strong anti-slavery beliefs. He believed so strongly in the Underground Railroad and in helping slaves escape that he chafed under the Quaker belief in non-violence. When he died in 1871, Wilmington's black community saluted him as "their Moses." Station Master on the Underground Railroad: The Life and Letters of Thomas Garrett was an important work in antebellum reform when it was first published in 1977. Author James McGowan disputed earlier arguments that white abolitionists were unified in their opposition to slavery and that they were largely responsible for the success of the Underground Railroad while the escaped slaves were helpless and frightened passengers who took advantage of a well-organized network. The present volume has been revised to include new information on Garrett's relationship with Harriet Tubman and the abolitionist newspaper editor William Lloyd Garrison. It also gives readers a new perspective on Thomas Garrett, recognizing his shortcomings as well as the uncompromising nature of his Quaker faith.
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  For the men in my life - Sean, Scott, Parker & Colin
  
  Title Courtesy of Byron
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  May 19, 1867
  
  Chapter One
  
  “Need some help, mister?”
  
  “I’ll be fine, thank you,” Reed Jackson said.
  
  The conductor approached through whirls of black smoke and repeated, “Do ya
  need some help?”
  
  The whistle blew as Reed replied. “I’m a cripple, not deaf, you jackass. I
  said I’d be fine.”
  
  The conductor squinted through ashed air and hefted himself onto the train’s
  step. “OK, son,” he shouted.
  
  The train pulled away and Reed struggled to pull his bag on to his lap and
  wheel himself to the step of the station house. A sign, swinging in the
  locomotive’s draft, read ‘Fenton, Missouri - Population 6,502.’
  
  “Is there a boy about who can get my trunks to the hotel?” Reed shouted into
  the dim building. The scrawny station manager shaded his eyes as he stepped
  into the dirt street.
  
  “Where ya be headin’?” he asked.
  
  “The Ames Hotel,” Reed replied.
  
  Reed contemplated the man who was now rubbin