On Becoming a Railfan

[dabug]

Nice, Ed, thanks for sharing.

[SSW9389]

Trains go way back in my memory. They were always there when I was growing up around Peoria, Illinois. Apparently I was fascinated by the things from an early age. My first direct memories of seeing trains was going to Chillicothe, Illinois to watch the Santa Fe. This would have been in the late 1950s. Every afternoon the Santa Fe passenger fleet would descend on Chillicothe on its way west. To a young mind this must have been impressive because the memories are still there. So is the zebra striped switcher and the time I got to go into the engine room of a passenger booster unit. It was very hot inside that gray-green noisy monster. I can still see the emerald green and ruby red signals at the west end of the yard instructing the trains. Dad never suspected he was creating a railfan with those Sunday drives to Chillicothe, but he did.

 

My Aunt Mabel also greatly contributed to my early beginnings as a railfan. She had a hard cover library that was stocked with books on many subjects. Among them were books by Lucius Beebe and Charles Holbrooks’ Story of American Railroads, and American Heritage. Reading these led to further rail endeavors. Those same books are in my library now.

 

Another early memory is of the Rock Island.  The Rock Island had a branch line through my home town of Dunlap, Illinois. The line extended from Peoria up to Wyoming, Illinois where it rejoined the Rock Island East-West main line. You could look down the street from my front porch and see this little tiny Rock Island Geep go about its business around the grain elevator. Other Rock Island times remembered were when Grandpa Cooper took me in about 1963 on a Shriner’s Special to see the Cubs play the Cardinals at Wrigley Field. Coming up to Chicago on the Rock Island we saw a train from the Erie Lackawanna whatever that was and on the way back to Peoria I asked Grandpa about the Southern Pacific baggage car we passed. He told me about a place called Tucumcari, Grandpa used to do rail shipping for Bemis Bag, a company he worked for, he knew his rail geography. The Peoria Rocket is long gone now, but the memory of trips to Chicago and to visit a friend in Henry, Illinois still vividly remain.

 

[dabug]

Thanks for your contribution, Will.  Just try climbing on a freight car in a railroad yard today, no matter how innocent your intent, and see what happens to you!  

[GP39]

Good question.

 My Grandfather took my little brother, and I, to a Long Island Railroad Yard in 1965.

I was a little kid and I remember it was a Sunday. The yard was quiet. Grandpa had worked for the New York Central and Baltimore and Ohio, in the early 1920's. He showed us how to throw a turnout, no it wasn't locked. More explanation, but I was looking around the yard, for something to do...

 A brown 40' boxcar looked appealing, and after Grandpa boosted me up on the ladder, I climbed onto the roof. What a view! He had to get up there, and help me get back down. I was hooked!

                                                       Cheers!

                                                     William Hudson

[dabug]

Thanks for your input, Paul.  Your story demonstrates that the appeal of railroading knows no borders. 

[Paul of Covington]

    Becoming a railfan was hardly an optional thing for me.    Until 1951, (11 years old), I grew up in the town of Tela, Honduras.     The part of town where we lived was known as New Tela, and was wholly built and owned by the Tela Railroad Company, a subsidiary of The United Fruit Company (now Chiquita Brands).     The main purpose of the TRRCo. was to transport bananas from the interior of the country to load onto ships.     The houses we lived in, the appliances, furniture, even the linens and tableware were owned by and stencilled or engraved "TRRCo."

    There were no roads connecting with other towns, so all transportation was by rail.     Several times a year we would take the daily train to Baracoa and change trains to the fairly large city of San Pedro Sula for shopping or visiting the dentist.    Alternately, you could arrange to take one of the many "motorcars" scurrying back and forth on the track.     The motorcar was an adventure--they were open-sided, so you got a nice breeze, but the main line was all single-track, and the driver would have to stop at every siding and call in at a line-side telephone, after which we'd either proceed or pull into the siding and wait.    Here is a picture of a motorcar.  They came in a variety of sizes.

 http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1378970275442&set=o.63040146410

Here are pictures of a trainload of bananas, two of loading operations, and a view of the wharf from the beach:

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1492953532737&set=o.63040146410

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=121496760077&set=o.63040146410

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=121496465077&set=o.63040146410

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=121496705077&set=o.63040146410

   (These pictures are all from the facebook site for employees and families of the Tela Railroad Co.)

   If I wasn't climbing trees or digging holes in the ground (don't ask me why), I was riding my bike to the yards or the dock to check out the railroad action.    In the evening I'd frequently go watch them wye the passenger train which had just arrived.    The most profound memories are of lying awake at night listening to the steam locomotives at work, making up trains and sometimes struggling to get them started out of the yard.    I couldn't help getting emotionally involved with a hard-working steam locomotive--they were alive.

[dabug]

Thanks for your comment, Glen.  Having reviewed your webside in the past, I would recommend it to other fans.

[gbrewer]

I too grew up observing trains right from the double dining room windows of my parent's home. It is a long story; you may find it here: How I became a lifelong railfan

[dabug]

Well done, FlyingCrow.  Ironically I've had one exposure to the KCS, and that happened to be in Joplin MO.  Managed to capture a movie of the southbound Southern Belle leaving town there one sunny, cold day in February, 1967.  But that's another story.

 

 

[dabug]

Ah yes, PRR's Main Line.  Never had the pleasure to ride its rails.  However, I remember visiting an uncle in New Jersey who lived within sight of the PRR 4-track main out of New York, some time around 1949-1950.  Was somewhere near New Brunswick, I think, a place I managed to railfan in later years a couple times.  Thanks for the memories, GG1Rick.    

[FlyingCrow]

I was almost 4 - the summer of 1952.   My grandfather, a by then retired local grocer, was a loyal lodge brother and had many lodge brother friends who were employed by the KCS, Frisco, MOP and Katy in Joplin, Mo.   One day we went down to see the agent at the MOP depot in Joplin who, intuitively suggested I be lifted up into the cab of the brace of waiting MOP F units and given a "ride" around the yard.     That sold me.

Since I was 14 I've held just about every office in every sort of railfan and model railroad club you can imagine....I wouldn't trade the love of trains for anything....all these years I still think back about that day and how my long journey started.

[GG1Rick]

With me it all goes back to my Grandmother's house in Narberth, PA. She lived 3 blocks from the PRR station on the Main Line to Harrisburg until 1969. So I cut my eye teeth watching G's, MP54's, E44's, Silverliners, etc. all day long. I remember the BS24 helpers giving way to RS3's, etc. Plus we rode those MU's to Philly a LOT. Too late to see steam. One of my favorite memories is staying overnight in the summer with the windows open hearing the passage of trains at night, especially the helpers pushing up Merion Hill in Run 8.

[dabug]

Thanks for your input, Utley26.  I envy your experience too.  I've never had the occasion to ride trains in the South.  To chase trains there on a limited basis, yes, but never to ride them.  But that's another story. 

[Utley26]

Like many others, my first home was down the street from a railroad (Telford PA, 1970s, where Reading passenger trains made thier way to and from Philadelphia).  My Mom took me down to the tracks a lot to watch.  My parents fed the interest with books, and later model trains, and the rest was history.  Of course you have to exclude the 25 year lapse to account for adolescence and young adulthood when it just isn't all that cool to be into trains.  But I'm 37 now, and it's funny how all comes back around.    

One of my best memories was riding the Southern Crescent with my Mom to visit my grandparents in North Carolina.  I must of been 4 or 5.  I remember eating breakfast in the diner; the waiter brought me ketchup for my scrambled eggs. 

[dabug]

Stix:

I am properly envious of your childhood.  I've often lived close enough to railroads to hear them, but never within sight of them.  

[wjstix]

In my case, it was pretty much pre-ordained. Before I was born my folks moved to a new house across the street from a railroad line, so from the day the brought me home from the hospital I had trains right there. Plus of course our local "kiddies" TV show was "Lunch with Casey" (as in Casey Jones).

[dabug]

ON BECOMING A RAILFAN

Every railfan probably has their own story about how they became a ferroequinologist.  I think mine is a bit different, however, in that I could have as easily become enamored to another mode of transport instead.  Here’s what happened.

 

My mother was the middle of three sisters.  The eldest and her family lived in Cincinnati, we lived in Columbus (OH), and the youngest lived in Dallas TX at the time, where my uncle was employed by Proctor & Gamble.  This story transpired around Christmas 1946, and I was barely three years old. 

Shortly before that Christmas my aunt and uncle in Texas were expecting their second child.  My mother had agreed to travel to Dallas to assist with the necessary household duties during this time; naturally I would go along.  The decision had been made to travel by train - my first train ride!  As I've garnered by hearsay and deductive reasoning over the years, the route was doubtless PRR to St. Louis and MOPAC to Dallas.

 

After all these years I can still remember three scenes from that trip in my mind.

1) A very crowded waiting room at the Columbus station, an overwhelming scene for a little twerp like me at the time.

2) We must have traveled Pullman all the way: I can recall a scene out the window of an enclosed space.  Our room (or perhaps a section, in that era) was on the right side of our train, which was laid out on a right-hand curve in a rural setting.  We were stopped, and a steam engine was backing to our train.  (A refueling stop?  A break-in-two?  Have no idea all these years later.)  I'm assuming this was on the PRR portion of the trip as it was broad daylight.  The short days of December would have precluded such a scene on the mostly overnight MOPAC portion of the trip.

3) We never made it all the way to Dallas.  We had either been assigned to a car not destined for Dallas, or else our proper car had been switched incorrectly into another section some time in the night.  (I believe there was some sort of work stoppage threatened around that time that never came off; union mischief or discontent, perhaps?)   Anyway, we had to vacate the train at some small town about 100 miles or so from Dallas.  I can still see in my mind the little station situated on an elevated single-track line and a set of steep steps leading down to street level.  My uncle drove out to rescue us and hustled us to Dallas at a reckless and breakneck pace, as I recall my mother reporting disapprovingly more than once over the years.

 

While in Dallas my cousin Diane was born.  Also while we were there my dad came down to join us, and so we would all travel home together.  I'm not sure whether he came by train or plane, but I do recall visiting a big light-colored building while there that, from subsequent pics I've seen, must have been Dallas Union Station.  Whether we were there to meet my dad, or claim mis-routed checked baggage or what, I don’t know at this far-removed date.

 

Now, here's the crucial part of this story.  As indicated earlier, the trip to Texas had been my first train ride.  The trip home would be by another mode - by air.  This would be the first airplane flight for both my mother and me.

 

As with the train trip, I can recall three scenes from the flight home in my mind.

1) Flying low over a city in daylight; probably a city we were landing at or taking off from.  Our plane was doubtless a DC-3 in that era; its relatively short-range capabilities plus the frequent-stop operating characteristics of the airlines at that time would all have meshed nicely.

2) Getting up to de-plane at Columbus upon arrival after dark.  I recall moving toward the rear of the plane to do this, reinforcing the notion it was a DC-3. 

3) Being outside the airport terminal in the dark waiting for a ride home.  (Interestingly the Columbus airport terminal building at that time still exists and is in use today, albeit not for airline operations.  That tiny complex sits diagonally opposite the modern, much larger Port Columbus "airplane parking place" in use today on the northeast side of Columbus.)  By the way, I‘ve been told my mom got air sick, but that I did fine.

 

Did you catch the implications here?  My first exposure to two vastly different modes of travel - rail and air - within a few weeks of each other... and it's the train that made the impression on me.   I date myself a railfan from that trip.  I suppose I could just as easily have become an airplane freak.  Now that's a scary thought!

 

By the way, sometime in the late '40s my uncle was transferred from Texas back to P&G's HQ in Cincinnati where my aunt and uncle spent the remainder of their lives.  The presence of two aunts and their families in Cincinnati prompted occasional trips there by train too.

 

How ‘bout you?  Have an interesting tale of how you became a railfan?  There are probably many readers in this forum audience who would enjoy hearing it.