In the echoes of locomotive whistles and the steady rhythm of rolling steel, there lies a story often untold. From September 15 to October 15, we honor National Hispanic Heritage Month—a time to reflect on the deep and enduring contributions of Latina/o Americans to our nation’s history and culture. This year we share the voices of Latina/o employees from the Union Pacific Railroad. Their stories, preserved by the American Heritage Center, are a part of the ongoing “Life Between the Rails” oral history project—a project that seeks to document the contributions of those who have long toiled in the background.

Breaking Ground and New Tracks in the 1970s

The 1970s marked a turning point for Union Pacific. With the introduction of new anti-discrimination laws, the railroad diversified its workforce, opening the gates of opportunity to those previously relegated to the periphery. It was a time when Black, Indigenous, and other people of color began to take on roles previously dominated by others— as switchmen, brakemen, conductors, and engineers. These were not just jobs; they were pioneering positions that would pave the way for future generations.

Abe Madrid of Rawlins, Wyoming, was one of these pioneers. His career spanned various roles, from brakeman to engineer. In recounting his journey, Abe drew a stark contrast between his experience and that of his grandfather, Moses Vigil, who labored as part of a section crew responsible for track maintenance.

Back then (in the 1970s), they had just passed laws on discrimination. They said you had to hire so many minorities and so many women, so on and so forth, as trainmen. My grandfather, as a section man, they almost solely hired minorities because that was hard work. They were working on the tracks back then. They didn’t have a lot of the machinery and technology that they have now. They had to do a lot of that work by hand.

The road to employment, however, was not a smooth track. Roy Sanchez, another voice from the project, remembers his attempts to join Union Pacific in 1965 and being denied the job he wanted. Roy applied many times over the next eight years, but the Trainmaster’s secretary in Laramie would tell him, “I’ll give you a job, but you’re going to be pounding spikes.” Determined, Roy continued to apply and, in 1973, became the first Latino Brakeman in Laramie, opening doors for many other Latina/o candidates who soon followed. 

Abe Madrid also spoke about the discrimination he and other Latinas/os faced, even after Union Pacific put new rules in place to ensure fairer hiring practices. Abe described the “subtle bias” some encountered and shared a story about a railroader who found a way around it.

There was a gentleman that worked here, he was a minority, but he married a conductor’s daughter and he hired out ….probably 1965 or ’66. Well, I don’t know if I should say it or not, but he changed his name from Martinez to Martin and his father-in-law was a conductor, and he was able to hire out with the name Martin.  I find that kind of comical in a way. He was a minority, but he changed his name so he could hire on the railroad.

Abe’s story is a poignant reminder of the lengths to which individuals would go to find their place on the rails.

Families Bound by Steel and Steam

For many, the railroad is more than just an employer; it is a legacy, a way of life passed down through generations. Debbie Martinez’s story is a testament to this legacy. Her grandfather, Steve Romero, spent his days riding the trains, fixing them on the go.

My grandfather was a railroader. He retired when I was born. He worked maintenance on the train, riding it to where it needed to go and fixing it along the way. Sometimes he would take us with him on the train to Salt Lake or Colorado.

Growing up in Rawlins, Debbie was surrounded by relatives and neighbors who worked for the railroad.  The Southside area of Rawlins has long been home to many railroad families.

I used to see a lot of the men from Southside walking early in the morning and late at night with their bags, walking up the hill to go to work. My next-door neighbor was working in the depot as a ticket agent, and when I started on the railroad, he was one of the brakemen with me.

This family tradition was not unique; it was a common thread among many families in the Southside neighborhood of Rawlins, where the railroad was the lifeblood of the community. The Southside, predominantly home to Latino families, was more than just a place to live. “It was like a big family,” Abe Madrid reminisced. Many of the families in the Southside neighborhood originally came from the San Luis Valley in Colorado. An “advance party” traveled to Wyoming from the Valley, discovering well-paid jobs with the railroad. They were soon joined by their San Luis family and friends, and those families still share a neighborhood today.

Rick DeHerrera, another voice in the collection, grew up immersed in this culture. His father worked on a section crew stationed in Lookout, Wyoming, and the family later moved to Laramie. Rick’s uncles also worked for Union Pacific, and this familiarity with the railroad helped Rick secure a job on a panel gang in Laramie. Rick eventually moved into train and engine service, where he began to face discriminatory treatment from some members of management.  Yet, despite the obstacles, his sense of community and shared purpose remained strong. 

Camaraderie and Collaboration

The stories from the “Life Between the Rails” project reveal more than the history of employment practices; it reveals the resilience of railroad workers. Those who worked on the rails did more than drive spikes or direct trains. They built bridges—literal and metaphorical—fostering a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect among the different crafts that kept the railroad running smoothly.

Abe Madrid, as an engineer, had a strong regard for the maintenance workers he collaborated with.  His dedication to the safety of his colleagues did not go unnoticed, earning him the admiration of those who labored to keep the tracks in good repair. These are the quiet, uncelebrated moments that define the true spirit of the railroad community.   

Preserving Voices for the Future

Through the “Life Between the Rails” project, the American Heritage Center is ensuring that these voices are not lost to time. Audio recordings, interview transcripts, photographs, and artifacts are being carefully archived, making these stories accessible to historians, researchers, and the public.

As we celebrate National Hispanic Heritage Month, we’re looking beyond the broad strokes of history to  the individuals who made it. We recognize the men and women who, through their labor and resilience, laid down the tracks of progress, not just for themselves, but future generations.

Heartfelt thanks to the Union Pacific Foundation for funding the project and to all the participants who so generously shared their memories, knowledge, and insights.

To explore more about railroad history and the communities it created, visit the American Heritage Center’s virtual exhibits The Art of the Railroad and Hell on Wheels: Union Pacific Towns in Wyoming. These exhibits provide context for the railroad industry that employed generations of Latino families and the boom towns that became home to diverse communities of railroad workers.

Post contributed by Tana Libolt, Project Assistant for “Life Between the Rails.”