Way back around 1962 or so, I was riding an open-window coach on a Reading Iron Horse Ramble, and near the commuter car yard at West Trenton, NJ, I lost my hat. It had a tag in it with my name and address on it, and several days later the hat arrived in the mail, with a nice note from a Reading engineer who had picked it up. We developed a nice pen pal friendship that lasted until he died a few years later. He shared a number of stories of his adventures as a fireman on camelback 10-wheelers and end-cab Pacifics on commuter trains before the diesels came.