I've read about the 1954 event in which the PRR and Sylvania lit up Horseshoe at midnight with thousands of flashbulbs. But have only ever seen one photo. There's got to be more, and even film - I can't imagine an undertaking like this with only one photograph. Anyone know if and where more evidence can be found? Thanks
In the December 1954 issue of The Pennsy magazine it stated that atop of 150 foot tower overlooking the curve that night were five people to snap the shot, four from Sylvania. There were color, B&W, and movie cameras used to catch the brief event. So yes you are correct there was more taken that night but they wanted that one great shot to show the results of their efforts.
In addition 34 press photographers were at the scene on a specially built platform so they too could try to capture the staged photo, but not at the same advantage point of the Sylvania people. The photo released had some touch up work, fireworks were added that did not occur that night.
How many photo's actually came out is anyones guess, taking into account how precise everything had to be at the moment the bulbs were flashed I'm sure many of the shots did not work. I would assume much of that was destroyed but finding the results of the movie camera would be interesting.
I's like to add that during the 2004 lighting event at the HSC, Sylvania was looking for people who participated in the original 1954 event and solicited photo's and any other memorabilia from that night. I went to the 2004 lighting and do not recall seeing anything pertaining to this. This also would indicated that more than just that one photo is a possibility.
Oh ok, I didn't know that it was a single flash - I thought there were floodlights lighting up the curve. Now it makes sense why there are so few photos.
Add it's a shame that the PRR or anyone else didn't try to capture the night runnings of the Blue Ribbon fleet in its heyday. I can only imagine what it must have been like to sit along the mainline in the middle of Pennsylvania between 11:00 PM and 2:00 AM. Just think...a couple of buddies, some lawn chairs, a case of beer....and enjoy the show.
You mean the red ribbon, Tuscan red ribbon.
daveklepper You mean the red ribbon, Tuscan red ribbon.
Utley is right, it was advertised as the Blue Ribbon Fleet, analogous to NYC's Great Steel Fleet.
Utley26 Add it's a shame that the PRR or anyone else didn't try to capture the night runnings of the Blue Ribbon fleet in its heyday. I can only imagine what it must have been like to sit along the mainline in the middle of Pennsylvania between 11:00 PM and 2:00 AM. Just think...a couple of buddies, some lawn chairs, a case of beer....and enjoy the show.
When I was kid thats what I would do in the evenings. My Grandparents lived along the PRR mainline about 15 miles west of the HSC. Watching the high volume of passenger traffic from the porch on a cool summer night during the hours you mentioned was unreal. At night you could see into the trains, people sitting or walking around and sparks flying off the wheels. The highlight, the Broadway with the twin diners. The sounds of E units echoing through the mountains was another highlight I will never forget.
K4sPRR When I was kid thats what I would do in the evenings. My Grandparents lived along the PRR mainline about 15 miles west of the HSC. Watching the high volume of passenger traffic from the porch on a cool summer night during the hours you mentioned was unreal. At night you could see into the trains, people sitting or walking around and sparks flying off the wheels. The highlight, the Broadway with the twin diners. The sounds of E units echoing through the mountains was another highlight I will never forget.
Wow that sounds absolutely incredible. That is exactly what I'm talking about. I was born 35 years too late!!!
What years would this have been?
Mid 50's and into the 60's, then the PC.
...and for those of you who might wonder about the 2004 festivities...here's the way it was...
The bus line to the Curve that evening was long but the number of buses (school buses for the $25 ticket holders such as my friend and myself and snazzier buses with “Special” on their display boards for the VIP ticket holders who actually got to be trackside on the curve) was sufficient to move us along. While standing in line we were given key chains with little lights made by Sylvania (red, purple, or blue). At first it was one each but then the people handing them out came around a second time and asked us to take more so we both took one of each color. Hands were stamped and tickets taken and we were on the bus and off to the curve.
We arrived at the base of the curve around 6:30 and strolled across the road to the grassy berm on the other side. We had some very nice fold up canvas chairs so we set them up against the fence line, broke out the tripods, mounted the cameras, picked the camera angles for the night time shots, and sat down to wait.
We were surrounded with other railroad buffs. The sky was overcast and there was a light wind. The forecast hadn’t called for rain but because of a brief sprinkling earlier in the day I had brought a rain slicker and my friend had brought along an umbrella. The sky got darker, conversation and beer flowed around us…and then came the first rumblings of thunder. The crowd was silent for a moment, no more thunder so conversations resumed. The clouds continued to scud across the sky and then we saw lightning flashes. The first faint drops began to fall sometime after 7P.M. I pulled out the rain slicker, covered my camera with a plastic bag I had brought along, hid the camera bag under my friend's seat, and covered it with a waterproof wrap. My friend, meanwhile, broke out his umbrella and hunkered down in his chair. It began to rain even harder…and then harder still…and I came to the slow realization that my rain slicker – wasn’t (I bought the stupid thing over in the rain coat section and it was labeled as such but….). Instead of repelling rain it was just absorbing it. Within 15 minutes water was running down the inside of the sleeves and out the cuffs. Meanwhile water was also running down my legs (I was wearing shorts) and filling my shoes – in about 30 minutes I was 100% soaked. My friend had curled up in a ball in his seat and was using his umbrella to shield himself as best he could…At least his top half was staying dry. All around me other people were trying to cope. Some had brought real rain slickers and umbrellas but many had absolutely no protection of any kind. There was no place to go for cover and they, like myself, just had to sit or stand and take it. While all of this was going on more buses arrived with still more potential victims. From where we were seated I could see the buses pull into the parking lot and attempt to unload. It was obvious that some people simply refused to get off the bus and that others in the parking area had had enough and were re-boarding buses in order to get back to Altoona.
About an hour into the downpour the sky to the west began to lighten and it was announced over the PA system that the local weatherman had called to say the showers were almost over and there wasn’t any rain behind the clouds overhead. A cheer went up and sure enough, about 10 minutes later the rain stopped very suddenly. Another cheer went up, umbrellas came down, rain slickers were removed and people sharing my circumstances just stood there and dripped. Animated conversation began again. A country/rock band on a flatbed parked near the visitor center warmed up and started to play. Absentmindedly, I reached into my pocket for my handkerchief and attempted to dry my hands. When they didn’t seem to be getting any dryer I took the handkerchief, gave it a twist, and watched the water pour out. All around people were comparing relative water damage – even with umbrellas and rain slickers’ people were still wet. One couple in front of us discovered their slickers had kept the top dry but the water had run down the backs of their chairs and completely soaked them from the waist down. It may have been the warmth of the rain that fooled their sense of touch so they didn’t notice the water…or it could have been the beer. They had been plying themselves with ample servings of beer and it was obvious they were feeling no discomfort whatsoever. One lady in particular made quite a point of showing her wet behind to everyone – sort of a bump and grind affair. Just as she seemed on the verge of stepping over the line into the world of bad taste she was given more beer and she quieted down. After about 10 minutes of dry, a fine drizzle began and then the next storm front moved in. Umbrellas up! Slickers on! Hunker down and take the heavy downpour again! At this point with everyone in the same boat and nowhere to go, the attitude of the crowd shifted from one of mild misery and discomfort, to one of joking acceptance. I just viewed the whole thing as an exercise in dues paying and to more than one person I said this experience came with guaranteed bragging rights. Conversation turned to the local weatherman and everyone agreed his reputation was toast. There were, of course, various and sundry disgruntled spouses. One guy, who had brought his wife/significant other out to the curve and who had neither raincoat nor umbrella for protection, attempted to give her a hug in the middle of all of the incoming moisture. She shrank from his embrace, glared and turned away. I thought to myself, “Friend, you are going to have to serve her breakfast in bed daily for an entire year before she lets you off the hook for this one!”
As it grew darker and the time for speechmaking and the show drew near I began to worry I wouldn’t be able to get any kind of a picture. Down in the bear pits (the parking lot area below the small plateau reserved for trackside curve viewing) they had erected two huge projection screens so we could see the speechmakers at the podium up by the curve as well as watch the obligatory beauty queen when she sang the Star Spangled Banner. Just as the intensity of the rainfall began to decline, word was passed that Vice President Cheney, who was supposed to give some kind of a speech, had cancelled.
The rain continued to fall. Miss Pennsylvania stepped to the podium and began to sing the Star Spangled Banner. Standing for the national anthem is generally viewed as a mark of respect. Under normal circumstances the act of standing does not require much thought since this simple act carries little risk of loss. However, the downpour did not constitute “normal circumstances”. Consequently many people were forced to make hard choices between dry comfort and wet respect. For me the choice was easy. I was soaked from head to toe and there was at least a cup of rainwater pooled in the seat of my chair so I could stand and give the impression of patriotic zeal without risking a thing. The real sacrifice was made by those who, up to this point, had managed to keep their seating dry and who now had to face the fact that, by the time the singer had finished the mandatory drawn out and embellished rendition of the national anthem, they and their seating would be soaked. (I’ve often wished that people who sing the anthem at public gatherings be forced to sing it under the circumstances it describes – rockets' red glare, bombs bursting in air etc., I’m sure if it was sung in this fashion it would be known worldwide as the shortest national anthem). In any event, things went pretty much as expected-people stood, the anthem was long, drawn out and embellished, and everyone save the singer, sat down soaked. The singer was followed by several politicians and Norfolk Southern officals. The most memorable was David Goode of the NS. He made a few opening remarks, observed the situation was such that he was sure we had other things on our minds and told us if we really wanted to hear what he had to say we could read it over on the NS website. Personally, I was impressed with his common sense.
Just before show time it quit raining. At 9:15 things started happening. The floodlights kicked on, the trains, headed by several highly polished and illuminated NS diesels, rolled into the curve with side mounted strobes flashing and remote controlled spotlights moving in synchronization to music. Sharing the curve was the NS VIP passenger train, the strobe light train, and a polished, painted, and illuminated NS boxcar with words heralding the 150th anniversary of the curve emblazoned on the side. Then the fireworks began and everything, fireworks and strobes were synchronized with the music. Because of the moisture still in the sky the floodlight beams punched clear up to the cloud deck – cold and wet were forgotten as we stood and watched and photographed an unforgettable display. When it was finished, I commented to a waterlogged rail fan standing next to me “Not a bad show but I think the water was overdone.”
The buses rolled back in and began picking up people. There wasn’t much order to the pickup, just position yourself near where you hoped a bus would stop and try to get on. Everyone was very quiet, orderly, and wet. They had to open all of the bus windows to keep them from fogging over. When our caravan reached the Railroaders Museum (my friend and I managed to get on the second round of buses) people quietly got off the bus and, except for the low level murmur of voices, all you heard was the squish of people walking to their cars in waterlogged shoes.
We got back to our hotel and, even though it was July, turned on the heat. We were starving, it was past 11:30: everything was closed and all we had were four corn muffins we had saved from dinner. We had two apiece and didn’t spare the butter or the jam. We wrung out our clothes, positioned the soggy shoes over the heating vent and took very hot showers. Lights out was around 1 A.M.
The next morning we went over to Perkins Pancake House for a real feed. After breakfast we drove back up to the curve. The place was practically deserted. We climbed the stairs to the curve and joined a few other early bird train watchers. We exchanged a few pleasantries with them. Inevitably, the first question asked was “Were you here last night?” followed by “Up or down?” followed by “How wet did you get?” It wasn’t even a day later and already the badge of presence at the festivities was cause for admiration or regret. One could only paraphrase the lines from Henry V –“…and rail fans now abed will think themselves accursed they were not here and hold their manhood cheap when any speaks who was with us on the 150th anniversary night.” Once we had established whom the 150th anniversary veterans were we got down to the business of talking trains.
Once upon a time I had a about 30 years ago I had a many piece jig saw puzzle of that night. You could see the individual spots where the flash bulb arrays were placed. It was a really nice picture if it was not all cut up into puzzle pieces I would probably kept it. It probably went into the trash during one of my many moves in the USAF. I still remember it, as I think of it often. Too bad I am a NYC fan.
Paul
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