Welcome fellow Railfans, Rail Historians, Model Builders, and those of you who are interested in the subject of trains. I am the Barndad (seems like I’m always in a barn, either for trains or horses). If you have been viewing these forums in the past 16 months, you have no doubt noticed the thread “Our Place”, started by Tom Weber (Siberianmo). It was sustained by just a handful of men with diverse train experience and interests. We posted over 7,000 replies since its creation, and more train-related articles, pictures, information, and stories than you can find in any other single location in these forums. Tom ( a 32-year veteran of the U.S. Coast Guard) ran a “tight ship”, and insisted that participants acknowledge each others contributions and basically behave (apply Golden Rule here). I insist upon this as well.
This thread is not intended to replace “Our Place”, but I hope to provide a place where we can discuss and share train-related information in just one thread, much in the same spirit as the “Our Place” concept. I feel it’s important to the Trains.com forums that we do this. I’m hoping that some of the “old regulars” and maybe even Tom himself, will see fit to post here. We sure had a lot of fun, learned a lot, and made some great friends too. I hope this thread will be interesting enough to keep you coming back!
P.S. It was my custom to end most of my posts with a joke (the guys called them groaners) or perhaps funny pictures. Old habits die hard, so …..
A farmer was driving along the road with a load of fertilizer. A little boy, playing in front of his house, saw him and called, "What've you got in your truck?""Manure," the farmer replied. "What are you going to do with it?" asked the little boy. "Put it on strawberries," answered the farmer. "You ought to live here," the little boy advised him. "We put sugar and cream on ours."
Here's an example of the type of article we share:
The Sand Hog’s Story from June 1937 Model Builder
Photograph courtesy of Port Authority of the New York from Soibelman
Did you ever wonder how they a tunnel under a river, or how they did in the sand and mud down under the water to reach a bed-rock foundation for the towers and piers of a big railroad bridge? Ask the sand-hog. He’ll tell you. He’s the man who does it.
Let’s say that our new railroad line must cross as especially wide river or bay. The engineers have decided that they must build a suspension bridge. Their plans call for two tall towers from which to suspend the cables, some distance from either shore.
The bridge is going to be a monster, and the monster must have a good foot-hold … and that’s the job for the sand-hog!
First a caisson (a water-tight chamber within which construction work is carried on under the water) is sunk into the soft mud. As the work progresses this caisson will be sunk deeper and deeper. The sand-hogs go down in these caissons and dig and drill until they reach the bed-rock on which the towers will rest. Then concrete is lowered and gradually the “feet” of the monster bridge are built.
It all sounds very simple and if that’s all there was to it, the life of a sand-hog wouldn’t be anymore exciting or dangerous that the life of a carpenter. But , the deeper down the caisson is sunk, the more tremendous becomes the pressure of the water against it. If the inside of this caisson contained normal air pressure, it would be crushed like an eggshell. To prevent this, the air pressure inside the caisson is made much greater.
Now, if a man were to go from ordinary air directly into the air at the bottom of the caisson, his lungs would explode. Let’s take a trip with a sand-hog and see what he does to prevent this.
First, everyone who goes down in a caisson must be inspected by a doctor. Your heart must be sound and your body stout. It’s not a joking matter, either! The sand-hog’s rules read like a football team’s training instructions – simple diet, heavy clothes after coming from a caisson, regular hours, constant medical examinations.
We stand at the top of the caisson. A party of sand-hogs, hot and tired after 40 minutes work below, come out of the little manhole at the top of the airlock. We step through the manhole and into a steel bucket. Take your last look at blue sky. The black manhole cover is popped closed over your head. Now they’re “putting the pressure on.” Your ear-drums feel as if they would break.
“Pinch your nose and swallow hard,” someone advises. After a long wait, a voice says: “Three atmospheres.” That means you finally are breathing air three times the pressure of ordinary air – the same kind of air which is at the bottom of the caisson.
Now we start down. Little electric lights flash by. At last the steel bucket stops. Another steel door pops open and we step out. We are in a timbered room the size of a small parlor. “We’re 94 feet down – on solid rock,” our guide says. This room will soon be filled with concrete, and section by section the steel lining of the caisson will be lifted as the foundation rises, until finally the huge solid base for the bridge tower will rise above the water’s surface.
Now we start up again, but when we reach the top there is a long wait in the air lock. You wonder if something has gone wrong, but the guide explains we will have to wait here 50 minutes while the air is gradually being changed from “three atmospheres” back to normal. “Three atmospheres” is 50 pounds to the square inch, and according to the rules that means 50 minutes in the air lock.
Out in the clear sunshine again, we hear stories about “the bends” – the one thing the sand-hog fears more than anything else. It sounds complicated, but it really is nothing more than a bubble of high-pressure air which sometimes works its way into a man’s body while he’s at the bottom of the caisson. When he comes up into normal air, the bubble starts causing trouble. If it happens near the heart, death may result. Generally the bubble gets caught near a joint and just causes a terrific pain.
Here is the interesting way they cure “the bends.” The victim, doctor and nurses all go into a special little air-tight hospital. Gradually the air in that room is changed – just as it was changed for you when you went into the caisson – until it is three atmospheres. Then it’s an easy matter to get rid of the air bubble. When the operation is over, the hospital is brought back to normal air pressure again.
Do you wonder that sand-hogs are well paid? The lower the caisson is sunk, the greater the air pressure inside the caisson. The greater the air pressure, the more the sand-hog gets paid per hour. And the greater the air pressure, the shorter the “tricks” he works. At 80 feet down, he works two 90 minute periods per day. At 100 feet he works 40 minutes, rests four hours, works another 40 minutes, and then goes home for the day.
And that is the way a monster railroad bridge gets its foothold deep under the water on bed-rock, where sand-hogs dare to go!
The room was full of pregnant women and their partners, and the Lamaze class was in full swing. The instructor was teaching the women how to breathe properly, along with informing the men how to give the necessary assurances at this stage of the plan. The teacher then announced, "Ladies, exercise is good for you. Walking is especially beneficial. And, gentlemen, it wouldn't hurt you to take the time to go walking with your partner!" The room really got quiet. Finally, a man in the middle of the group raised his hand. "Yes?" replied the teacher. "Is it alright if she carries a golf bag while we walk?"
Good morning one and all, although so far it looks like I'm just talking to myself!
One thing about the the previous article that I don't think was understood in 1937, was the cause of the air embolism and its subsequent medical treatment. I disagree that the air pocket was caused by high pressure air. It was really caused by a hurried decompression cycle when the men were being brought back to normal (one atmosphere) pressure. These guys were essentially performing what scuba people call a decompression dive, which involves wait-time at various depth while ascending, to give the compressed gasses in the divers bloodstream a chance to diffuse naturally, rather than expanding to form bubbles. This process is a science and has to be regulated carefully. The real treatment for anyone suffering "the bends" should have simply been simulating the "dive" atmosphere in a depcompression chamber to recompress the gasses, then slowly bringing the atmospheric pressure up. There was no need for surgery or any medical staff to be present in the chamber. By the way, 1-800-LEO-FAST is the number you can call to find the closest decompression chamber should you need one.
Now that we're all set to safely help build underwater pylons for railroad bridges, take a look at the following:
XXX HOUSEFRT May-June 1937 Model Builder
What do these strange marks on freight cars mean?
Have you ever noticed the mass of white chalk marks on the side of a freight car? On some cars you may only see a single number, or a few strange letters. But the sides of other cars are often almost covered with scrawlings. Look at the above photographs. You might think a crowd of playful boys had come along and scribbled their names and initials and anything else that popped into their heads.
But it’s all part of the very serious business of railroading – and an important part, too. Every white chalk mark means something to somebody. Every mark helps to keep the hundreds of freight cars arriving each day in a busy yard headed in the t=right direction at the right time.
If you could read the strange marks, you could tell whether the contents of a car were perishable or fragile; whether the car contained livestock of machinery; whether it would be safe to send the car over the “hump” or whether it would have to be handled with a switcher; in what train the car should be made up; where it was going; where it should be opened first; whether the shipment was all going to one consignee, and, in fact, everything that any railroad man having anything to do with the car might ever want to know about it.
The marking is done by yard clerks or “car markers.” They get their information from waybills. The marks are read by yard crews and freight train conductors. A waybill always accompanies a freight car and is guarded carefully by the freight conductor, but if a car should go astray, or the waybill become lost, it often is possible to locate the car without much delay by the markings on its side.
Each road, and often each yard has its own code. Ask a railroad man in Concord, New Hampshire for example, what the marks mean on a car just in from the West, and he will laugh and tell you frankly that he doesn’t know. Some of them were put on in Boston, some in Chicago, some in Omaha. The code in each of those cities is different. But a little later ask him what any fresh marks mean – any marks put on by the yard clerks in Concord – and he will tell you quickly.
Take this mark, for instance:
The long dash is the code mark which means the car is headed for the Mystic freight yards just outside Boston. The first “X” means the contents of the car are consigned to Boston. The second “X” means that it is a rush shipment. The third “X” means the contents are perishable. “HOUSEFRT” means it is a “house car,” that is, the entire contents of the car are not being shipped to a single consignee and must be unloaded at a freight house.
“Laconiawaynh” on the side of a car would mean that the car must be opened first in Locania to take out the shipment for that city, and that the test of the contents are consigned to way stations beyond Laconia but still within New Hampshire.
The “Pgh.” On the car in the photograph indicates that the car is headed for Pittsburgh. The words crossed out (right in front of the man’s face) form the name of the furniture store to which the contents are consigned. Some of the other marks tell that the car was due in Pittsburgh on June 13, that it was a rush shipment and that is was to be made up in a certain train leaving at a certain time.
Every single one of the chalk scribblings on this and every other freight car you have ever seen has real meaning – a meaning which may be as mysterious to the average person as a pirate’s treasure chart, but which is even more important.
Rainy weather often causes considerable delays in the movement of freight trains, and here’s the reason – A heavy, beating rain will wash chalk marks off the side of a freight car. Often this causes much confusion in a freight yard in making up trains. It is then necessary for the yards clerks to rush around and re-mark the cars, this time with indelible red chalk which is more difficult to read than the usual white marks, but will wash off less easily. In such cases the marks are put on the trucks, where rain is not so apt to reach.
Some of the best railroad car markers are men who cannot read or write their own names. Almost every big yard has at some time such a yard clerk. Railroad officials explain that the average man who reads and writes numbers all day long occasionally makes a mistake – occasionally, for example, sees a figure “2” on a way-bill and by mistake writes down on the side of a car the figure “5” or “9”. But a man who cannot read looks at the figure “2” and then copies it down exactly as he sees it, like a child copying a drawing.
Also, these men work out their own codes. Instead of writing a certain combination of letters to indicate that a car is headed for Pittsburgh, such a yard clerk may draw a picture of a lot of smokestacks. The other men in the yard know the code and realize that a set of smokestacks means Pittsburgh. With such a system there is no chance of mistaking one letter for another and routing a car incorrectly.
A friend asked me the other day why I never got married. I replied "Well, I guess I just never met the right woman... I guess I've been looking for the perfect girl.""Oh, come on now," said my friend. "Surely you have met at least one girl that you wanted to marry.""Yes, there was one girl... once. I guess she was the one perfect girl -- the only perfect girl I really ever met. She was just the right everything... I really mean that she was the perfect girl for me.""Well, why didn't you marry her?" asked my friend. I shrugged my shoulders and replied, "She was looking for the perfect man."
Good afternoon fellow railfans. Perhaps the following article will stimulate some conversation:
Merci Boxcar Arrives at Southern Museum of Civil War & Locomotive History
Members of the Fulton County branch of the La Societe Des 40 Hommes and 8 Chevaux, along with members of the 277th Maintenance Company, 78th Troop Command, Georgia National Guard, celebrate the completion of the move of the Georgia Merci Boxcar to the Southern Museum of Civil War & Locomotive History on Saturday, January 7, 2006.
On January 7, 2006, the Southern Museum of Civil War & Locomotive History in Kennesaw, Georgia, became the custodian of the Georgia Merci Boxcar, which arrived in Atlanta on February 11, 1949. The Georgia Merci Boxcar (Merci is French for “thank-you”) is one of 49 boxcars sent to the United States by the people of France in 1949 to express appreciation for the American efforts in sending food and other urgently needed supplies when the French were in dire economic straits after the end of World War II.
Built in the 1800’s, the boxcars are referred to as “40 & 8” cars, because they were designed by the French to transport either forty men or eight horses. The cars were used in World War I, and an honor society for American Legion members who went above and beyond in their services to the legion, La Societe Des 40 Hommes at 8 Chevaux (the Society of 40 Men and 8 Horses) was named after the 40 & 8’s because many veterans had been transported around Europe in them.
Since the arrival of the Georgia Merci Boxcar in Atlanta in 1949, it has been carefully preserved and protected by the Fulton County branch, or voiture, of the 40 & 8 group. The boxcar will be housed in the Museum’s education center, on which construction is scheduled to begin soon, according to Kennesaw Director of Recreation and Culture Jeff Drobney. Tom Walsh, a member of the Fulton County branch of the 40 & 8 group, says that’s “it’s an ideal location because the boxcar will be safely stored and the public will have access to it.”
The Georgia Merci Boxcar was moved to the Southern Museum by the 277th Maintenance Company, 78th Troop Command, Georgia National Guard, whose efforts were praised by Drobney – “we are so thankful for all the help of the National Guard provided in moving the car. It wouldn’t be here without their assistance.”
For further information, check these websites: for the Southern Museum – www.southernmuseum.org ; for the Merci Boxcars – www.rypn.org ; for the 40 & 8 group – www.fortyandeight.org
A little boy went up to his father and asked: "Dad, where did all of my intelligence come from?" The father replied. "Well son, you must have got it from your mother, cause I still have mine"
Hi Dave! It sure is great to see you here, and I certainly appreciate the kind words as well as the visit! Thanks also for being the first to help me demonstrate what I hope this thread will become.
Notice how Dave has expressed a few specific interests? Now here is what we do with it:
The covered hopper is a car type which was developed in the 1920s, but did not see widespread acceptance and use until the World War II era. By 1965, designs such as this 4460-cubic foot American Car & Foundry car were being built for cargoes ranging from grain to plastic pellets to chemicals. All welded in construction and with trough hatches to permit fast and easy loading, these cars constituted a major advance for shippers. Similar cars dominate the covered hopper fleet today.
This particular car was one of 200 cars in SP’s class H-100-12, a 100-ton (nominal) capacity class built in 1965. Jim Seagrave photo at Oakland, Calif., August, 1966.
The Budd Company of Philadelphia developed a “shotwelding” process for fabrication of stainless steel passenger cars. By the 1950s, Budd cars came into widespread use. Here is a Southern Pacific example, No. 2989, an 83-ft. lounge car built for the Sunset Limited in 1950, which became famous for its “French Quarter” interior décor which reflected the train’s New Orleans terminal. Its finish in this 1961 photo by Kyle Brewster is unpainted stainless except for its scarlet letterboard. It survived into Amtrak service.
*I'm sure you get the idea ... basically respond to whatever the subject has become with whatever you might have on hand, and we'll all learn about railroading together. Easy? You betcha!
And now .... like it or not ... another groaner from me!
Three guys are fishing when Fred gets up to get a beer, loses his balance and falls out of the boat. Ed says " What should we do?" Bill says, "You better jump in after him, he's been under water for a while, he might need some help." So Ed jumps in, and after some time, he surfaces. He says, "Help me get him in the boat." They wrestle Fred back into the boat. Ed says, "What do we do now, it doesn't look like he's breathing." Bill says, "Give him mouth to mouth." Ed starts to blow air into Fred's mouth and says, "Whoa, I don't remember Fred having such bad breath." Bill says, "Come to think of it, I don't think Fred was wearing a snowmobile suit, either."
Hi Doug
Interesting articles and good to see Dave as well. As you say in the E-mail we ought to support Classic trains forum for allowing us to have such a great time at Tom's Our Place. I hope some of the old regulars will call in here.
I am struggling a bit with the new format I have done a description of a trip I took in England if you want I will try to post it with a couple of pics Glad the jokes are stll here. Pete.
Good morning Peter and Eric!
Great to have the two of you on-board. Maybe this thread has a chance of survival after all, with two such great contributors such as yourself. Yeah, I am just learning my way around with the new format here as well. Not that I was that proficient with the old system, to be sure. Someone likes my jokes?Who'da thunk it? I'm sure we'd all love to read about and see your England trip Peter! Don't know exactly why your picture did not come through for you Eric, but thanks for helping to continue Dave's SP theme! Here's your picture (if it works for me):
And now, continuing the SP theme, here's another little submission from me
In the early 1960s, U.S. railroads were seeking locomotives with more horsepower, better adhesion, and good, reliable low-speed performance. The Southern Pacific felt that Electro-Motive and Alco were overly conservative and unresponsive to perceived needs with the locomotives they were marketing. Consequently, the railroad went abroad to locomotive builder Krauss-Maffei of Munich, Germany, and ordered three diesel locomotives with hydraulic transmission drives rather than the standard traction motor drive. (To meet K-M’s minimum order requirement to design a U.S.-style locomotive, SP talked to the Denver & Rio Grande Western into taking three nearly identical units). Diesel-hydraulics had been successfully operated in European countries for years.
The six locomotives arrived at the Port of Houston on October 31, 1961. SP Nos. 9000-9002 were set up at nearby Hardy Street Shops, while the Rio Grande’s trio was dispatched to Denver. (The Rio Grande units would become SP property three years later). The SP units were tested on the Sierra crossing between Roseville and Sparks; with each unit rated at 4000 hp, the trio equaled eight F units! Modifications proved necessary to adapt the units to severe SP conditions. But they worked, they did the job, and SP wanted more. A new order went to K-M for 15 units, and SP also asked Alco to design and build three additional hydraulic-drive units to Alco standards.
Southern Pacific No. 9014 at Roseville is an example of the second-generation K-M hydraulic units that arrived at Houston in May, 1964. After being set up, all headed to Oregon for their first service. Later, they were often run as single units in combination with a GP9 or an F7. By 1965, the SP was ordering hundreds of high-horsepower SD40, SD45, and U33C units, so the fluid-drive locomotives were assigned to the Central Valley of California. Eventually SP didn’t want to maintain a fleet of “different” locomotives, and the K-M’s were retired by November, 1968. The sole survivor was No. 9013 (later No. 9113), which was converted to a camera car to film SP routes for use in the engineer training simulator, then was donated to the California State Railroad Museum.
A guy calls the hospital. He says, "You gotta send help! My wife's going into labor!" The nurse says, "Calm down. Is this her first child?" He says, "No! This is her husband!"
Here's another theme-related submission on this fine looking Saturday morning for y'all to read with your morning paper:
Southern Pacific, a National War Agency from BLF&E magazine, Jan. 1943
Ninety-nine-car freight train hauled by five locomotives on horseshoe curve near San Luis Obispo, California
The clock was turned back more than 73 years recently at Promontory, Utah, when on September 8, 1942, a little gathering of railroad men and history-minded persons re-created in reverse, the epochal ceremony of May 10, 1869, on which date the last spike was driven connecting the rails of the Central Pacific (now Southern Pacific) and the Union Pacific to give the nation its first trans-continental railroad.
For more then 38 years, or since the Southern Pacific’s 32-mile trestle and fill across Great Salt Lake was opened (April 1904) the pioneer rail line that twisted around the upper end of the lake has been a branch little used.
Now the government has taken up the track so that about 13,000 gross tons of rail and other materials can be put to vital wartime use. It was on this 120 miles of railroad track that construction crews of the Central Pacific and Union Pacific Paralleled their grades within shouting distance of each other before a final point of junction was decided upon. It was here the rival crews vied for tracklaying records as they raced their iron rails toward each other. Finally C.P. forces laid ten miles and 1800 feet of rail in one day to establish a record that still stands.
Southern Pacific, which had its beginning with the construction of the Central Pacific from Sacramento to Promontory, is one of the world’s largest transportation systems. The main lines of its 15,500 miles of railways in the United States and Mexico reach from Portland, Oregon, to Guadalajara, Mexico; from San Francisco to Ogden, Utah; and from Los Angeles and San Diego, California, to Tucumcari, New Mexico, and New Orleans, Louisiana, with networks of supplementary lines at both Pacific Coast and Gulf termini.
Cab-in-Front locomotive – one of the latest built by Baldwin for the Southern Pacific
Thus, skirting the western and southern borders of the nation and providing numerous gateways to the interior, the railroad is strategically located for the outstanding role it is playing in the war effort. Of this President A.T. Mercier says: “All the vast resources of the Southern Pacific in manpower and physical plant are being directed to our first duty and purpose of winning the war. Because this is a two-ocean war our varied transcontinental lines and routes and our lines along the Pacific Coast are vital to the job of mass transportation of troops, arms and supplies. Equally important is our transportation service for war industries – feeding the raw materials, carrying away finished products – serving as a part of the American railroads’ vast assembly line for mass production of airplanes, warships, munitions and allied facilities.”
“In this war no railroad is more strategically located than our own. At the same time none has more difficult physical operating problems involving for the most part single-track operation over wide reaches of mountains and desert territory. To meet this responsibility and these problems we have equipment and methods that have been greatly improved during the last dozen years as to constitute a new era in railroading. Also we have the will. The job is being tackled by all hands in the traditional spirit that built our western link of America’s first transcontinental railroad, in the spirit that has since won through in every crisis of flood, storm and disaster. I know the men and women of our railroad. They have what it takes. Out on the line, in the yards, in the shops and offices, day and night, they are doing and will continue to do the greatest job in our history.”
When war came suddenly to the United States with the attack on Pearl Harbor, the Southern Pacific was already prepared for the big job. Despite the lean depression years the road had managed, by borrowing large sums, to maintain adequately its track, structures and equipment, and in addition had made notable advancement both in its efficiency of operation and in the character of its service.
It was this period which witness establishment of the company’s spectacular “Daylight” streamliners and the expansion of its fast merchandise freight service. It was a period in which, with efficiency and economy as watchwords, the program of accelerating freight movement was stepped up by the laying of heavier rails carrying more powerful locomotives, hauling longer trains made up of cars of greater capacity and running on faster schedules. From 1932 to 1941 Southern Pacific had spent $146,000,000 for additions and betterments to its equipment and physical properties.
From August, 1939, to the time of U.S. entry into the war the road had already received or was awaiting delivery of 110 steam locomotives and 72 diesel-electric switch engines. Also received or to be delivered were 9489 new freight cars and 79 new passenger cars. The Pacific Fruit Express Company in which the S.P. owns a half-interest had in the same period ordered 1035 new refrigerator cars.
In the past few years Southern Pacific has added materially to its fleet of cab-in-front oil burners, technically known as single-expansion, articulated locomotives of the 4-8-8-2 wheel arrangement, bought from the Baldwin Locomotive Works. Other recently purchased locomotives are of the single-expansion, articulated type, but coal-burners with cab in the conventional position back of the boiler. They were built by the Lima Locomotive works. Coal is used for fuel on the Rio Grande Division between El Paso and Tucumcari.
Battery of S.P. Cab-in-Front locomotives faces turntable
A young man excitedly tells his mother he's fallen in love and is going to get married. He says, "Just for fun, Ma, I'm going to bring over three women and you try and guess which one I'm going to marry." The mother agrees. The next day, he brings three beautiful women into the house and sits them down on the couch and they chat for a while. He then says, "Okay, Ma. Guess which one I'm going to marry." She immediately replies, "The red-head in the middle." Stunned, the young man says, "That's amazing, Ma. You're right. How did you know?""I don't like her," she says.
Hi Ted .... and thanks for the the kind words. I too am glad to see some of the old gang pop in so soon! I hope to see everyone eventually, and especially Tom!
If you are new to this thread, and maybe thinking it's just supposed to be a hang-out for the guys who used to frequent the "Our Place" thread, this is not true. NuB's are welcome and are encouraged to introduce themselves and join in the discusions. Our topics are going to change from day to day, so feel free to start-up the next one!
Continuing the SP theme, here's another article:
Famous on the Southern Pacific with the nickname “Queen Mary,” locomotive No. 6011 was a model E2-A, built in December, 1937, as the lead unit for the second trainset of the streamlined City of San Francisco. AT the time the train was not only jointly operated but was also joint owned by Union Pacific, Southern Pacific and Chicago & North Western, and this locomotive then carried emblems of all three railroads on its nose. It was the first diesel in which Southern Pacific had a financial interest.
In 1948, the ownership of the trainsets and their A-B-B motive power was divided among the owning railroads, and this locomotive came to the SP. The photo evidently dates from near the time of sale, as the engine became No. 6011A for a short time before it became No. 6017 in 1949. In later years, this locomotive was re-engineered by SP at Los Angeles, replacing its original two Winton diesels with two then-standard EMD 567A prime movers, and also received the standard exterior body shell and nose of an E7. That work was completed in February, 1954, and the engine remained as No. 6017 until the end of its life. It was retired in July, 1966.
The location of this photo is Reno, Nev., and the train, No. 26, is the Overland Mail. The train just descended from a snowy crossing of Donner Pass, and a steam helper would have been used from Roseville, Calif. To the Sierra Nevada summit at Norden. Note that the coupler cover doors are still open, with snow around but not inside them. More dramatically, note the oily streaks on the nose of No. 6011, likely soot and oil smoke exhaust from a cab-forward helper, whose stack blasts in the tunnels and snowsheds would not have been far ahead of the diesel.
"I can't find a cause for your illness," the doctor said. "Frankly, I think it's due to drinking." "In that case," replied his patient, "I'll come back when you are sober."
Doug great posts on the SP.Very interesting on the Diesel-Hydrulics. The Great Western region of British Railways went with Hydrulics to replace steam in the late 1950s and 60s although mostly successful these too were phased out in the 70s in favor of diesel-electrics as used on the other regions.
Great to see Eric and Ted calling in.
Here is some thing I wrote when the Forum was down I hope it is OK.
A TRIP TO SCOTLAND JUNE 2006.
Part One Rugby to Newcastle.
A trip I did manage to take while in England was a day trip to Stirling, Scotland. It was an early start with leaving the house at 5:00 AM and walking the mile and a half or so to Rugby station. A pleasant walk, just cool enough in the early morning light to need a light coat, at that time of year it gets light about 4 AM.
Arriving at the station a pleasant surprise was that the station buffet was open and plenty of time for a cuppa tea.
In the new timetable which had started earlier that week, a train using an 87 electric loco and coaching stock was timed to leave Rugby for London at 6:20 AM, this was waiting on platform 1. Apart from one train in the evening all services for Virgin are booked for Pendelinos,Virgin’s new 9-Car tilting Electric Units, capable of a higher speed but runnig at 125 MPH at the present, and it was a Pendelino, which arrived on platform 2 with the 6:05 am to London. I did toy with the idea of waiting for the 87 hauled train but decided to go with the 6:05. Come departure time and no movement, and then the conductor came on and announced that some overnight engineering work on the main line was running late although we should be away in a few minutes. A couple of trains had passed us but they were routed via the Northampton loop and as one was an intermodel freight; if we had to go that way we would be delayed. But the conductor was good to is word and after a short while the Beep-Beep of the automatic door closing sounded and we were away for a pleasant 82 mile journey in a hour, with 2 stops, and a on time arrival in Euston.
It is fairly short walk along Euston Road from Euston to Kings Cross station and the rush hour was not yet started at that time. There is an Underground connection but by the time you get your ticket and go to the deep level tube line it is almost as quick to walk plus the minimum fare on the Underground is now 3 Pounds (about $5.30).
There was a fair bit of construction work at St Pancreas station in connection with the new Channel Tunnel Rail Link, next door to King’s Cross.
I don’t know if it still is, but the King’s Cross area was noted for a haunt of the Ladies of the Night but I did not see any, perhaps they had finished their shift.
The train to Edinburgh was due to leave at 8AM but as the 7:30 to Newcastle had not left I decided to go on that. The loco hauling the train was a class 91 electric loco #91120 and carried the name Royal Armouries(I believe to commemorate a museum in Leeds).
A class 91 Electric loco and A High Speed Train HST wait at King,s Cross. The HST Diesel-Electric will work a East coast service beyond the electrified line north of Edinburgh.
An on time departure had us soon heading out of London with the inbound line busy with Electric Multiple Units of classes 313, 317 and 365 bringing the commuters into the City.
After 77 miles our train arrived at Peterborough passing over the former London & North Western Railway line which ran to Rugby and for the first few miles out of Peterborough is now The Nene Valley preserved railway which has steam-hauled trains at weekends.
Departing Peterborough, past the freight yard which had 3 GM class 66 locos in the blue and yellow livery of the GBFr company we were put on the slow line to allow the 7:35 Leeds train to pass we were soon back on the fast line and up to 125 MPH again passing the sign to mark the place where Mallard achieved the World Record for Steam of 126 MPH. On through Grantham Newark and Retford to Doncaster the next stop, passing the loco depot on the approach to the station unfortunately mostly hidden by trees.
On the west side of Doncaster station is the famous loco works, known as the Plant, where the Great Northern later LNER constructed and repaired such famous locos as Flying Scotsman, Mallard, Sir Nigel Gresley etc. The works is still in operation in private hands though on a very reduced scale. Heading north from Doncaster and onto the 1970/80s constructed line to by-pass the Selby coalfield, now itself about to close or so I hear.
The next stop is the old city of York with its magnificent station.
York station.
If anyone gets to visit England a visit to York is a must with Medieval Shambles, City Walls the Minster, Viking Center, good beer and of course The National Railway Museum which is just north of the station.
A few miles after leaving York our train is on the 4 track, mainly straight racing ground across the Plain of York although the line limit is 125 MPH. The slow lines were quite busy with freight with coal and steel trains hauled by class 60 and 66 locos.
The 4 track line ends at Northallerton where the lines to Teeside veer off to the east we head north to Darlington where the works of the North Eastern Railway was located and a brand new steam loco of the LNER A1 class is being built by railfans.
Shortly after leaving the station the trackbed of the 1825 Stockton & Darlington Railway is crossed. Next station is Durham where the line passes high above the city on a viaduct with a grand view of the Cathedral.
It was here a few years ago, on a steam special, that ex LNER A2 pacific Blue Peter went into a severe wheel slip and wreaked its motion costing many thousands of pounds to repair.
Shortly after passing Tyne marshaling yard our train slowed for the approach to Newcastle. To reach the station the River Tyne is crossed on the King Edward Bridge where we were held for a few minutes awaiting a clear platform as we were a few minutes early. Newcastle, like York is a station on a curve and is quite impressive.
There are two railway bridges that cross the Tyne, not counting the new Metro line one connecting Newcastle on the north side with Gateshead on the south,with tri-angular junctions on the south side of the two bridges. Gateshead was the site of a large loco depot. With a large allocation of LNER express steam locos. Near the depot was the site of Robert Stephenson’s early 19th century works.
#91120 arrived at Newcastle Station
I hope you enjoy this Pete.
Wow guys! The quality post meter just pegged the maximum for those two fine posts! Way to go Dave and Pete! Did you show your pix of the SP Queen Mary before Dave? I also thought that just maybe the boys at SP were trying to shake things up at Electromotive by taking their business elsewhere. Must be nice to have so much money that you can spend so much just to get better service! Thanks also for your comments and additions to the other posts.
Really liked the June 2006 Scotland trip post Pete( great pix too )! Couldn't help but notice that it a part one, so I assume we have more to look forward to! Outstanding stuff, to be sure.
Here's another small bit of info on the SP theme. I've got one more ready for later tonight, and then I have to get my pix in order for tomorrow.
The locomotive that as much as any other was synonymous with the Southern Pacific was the articulated cab-forward. No 4045 was outshopped by Baldwin Locomotive Works of Philadelphia in May, 1913. It is an example of the early 2-8-8-2 type, one of forty-nine with this wheel arrangement. All were originally built as true Mallets, compound locomotives with the engine near the firebox having high-pressure cylinders, and the engine under the smokebox having low-pressure cylinders that worked off the exhaust steam from the high-pressure cylinders.
The first two MC (Mallet Consolidation) types, Nos. 4000-4001, were delivered in May, 1909 with the cab in the conventional position. At that time there were over 40 miles of tunnels and snowsheds on SP’s high Sierra crossing between Roseville, Calif. And Sparks, Nev., and exhaust from these huge engines nearly asphyxiated the crews. The railroad turned the engine around and operated them with the cab in front. This was practical since they were oil burners. Subsequent engines of this type, and the larger 4-8-8-2’s, came to SP as cab-forwards (high-pressure cylinders on both engines), with modern feedwater heaters and superheaters also applied.
This May 29, 1936 view shows one of the rebuilds. Note the large steam pipe coming from the smokebox to the cylinders on the superheater. No. 4045 is a helper returning light from Cascade Summit to Oakridge, Ore., and is “in the hole” for a meet. This is a self-portrait of engineer and noted photographer Herbert L. Arey, who always carried his camera with him to document the Southern Pacific in Oregon from the early ‘teens on.
There was a boy who worked in the produce section of a super market. A man came in and asked to buy half a head of lettuce. The boy told him that they only sold whole heads of lettuce, but the man replied that he did not need a whole head, only half. The boy explained that he would have to ask the manager and so he walked into the back room and said, "There is some jerk out there who wants to buy only a half a head of lettuce." As he finished saying this, he turned around to find the man standing right behind him, so he quickly added, "fortunately this gentleman wants to buy the other half." The manager okayed the request and the man went on his way. Later on the manager said to the boy, "You almost got yourself in a lot of trouble earlier, but I must say I was impressed with the way you got out of it. You think on your feet and we like that around here. Where are you from, son?" The boy replied, "Minnesota, sir." "Oh, really? Why did you leave Minnesota?" inquired the manager. The boy replied, "They're all just hookers and hockey players up there." "My wife is from Minnesota", exclaimed the manager. The boy instantly replied, "Really! What team did she play for?"
Great job on all the SP information Dave. It's easy to see that you have spent some time researching the SP, and I thank you for sharing the data you have acquired. Much of what you saw from me today came from the Railway & Locomotive Historical Society, of which I am a member. The rest came from sources I already identified. Speaking of which ...here's more stuff:
Scene in a busy Southern Pacific Shop
Cab-in-Front locomotives are an outgrowth of the mallet compound type introduced from France about 1904, with a system of articulating two engines (one high pressure and one low pressure) using one boiler. Southern Pacific had a number of mallets, the first in 1909, but in 19127 rebuilt one with two single-expansion engines. As a result the first AC-4 class, 4-8-8-2’s, were bought the next year and the mallets were gradually converted to single-expansion or dismantled.
Originally the cab-in-front locomotives (Southern Pacific is the only railroad in the country using them) were operated exclusively between Roseville and Sparks over the Sierras where the cab arrangement gives engine crews better vision as well as protection from smoke and gas fumes while operating through snow-sheds and long tunnels in the mountain sections. In later years, however, they have been in service over the Siskiyou and Cascade ranges in northern California and over the Tehachapi mountains on the San Joaquin Division. Sixteen of the news ones have been assigned to operate out of Los Angeles over the Coast Line to San Luis Obispo, and in helper service over the Cuesta grade between San Luis Obispo and Santa Margarita.
Both types of locomotives have the most modern appliances for operating efficiency and safety, and incorporate numerous mechanical improvements developed through years of experience with previous classes of these AC engines. A notable improvement on the new locomotives is the use of force-feed oil lubrication to all driving boxes instead of the conventional grease system. Spring pad lubricators developed by Southern Pacific are used on all driving wheel journals as well as on all other axle journals. Another improvement developed by S.P. is the automatic tire and wheel cooler which operates automatically when brakes are applied, spraying wheels and tires with water, thereby preventing overheating due to friction of the brakes. As in the AC-7’s delivered in 1937, both classes have automatic devices that guard against collection of sediment in throttle and superheater units; also multiple application of drop plugs to prevent boiler explosions, and safety tire clips, both developed by the S.P. In addition, these two classes have shatter proof glass in the cab windows and are equipped with the Loco Valve Pilot which indicates and records on a graph the speed and cut-off of the locomotive, and provides the engineer with visual means of determining how best to regulate his steam to get the greatest locomotive efficiency. The coal-burners are equipped with latest type mechanical stokers and casings which cover projections on top of the boilers to prevent trailing of steam and smoke and at the same time give a streamline effect.
A mammoth repair program has been launched in the company’s shops to bring back into use as quickly as possible every available piece or serviceable equipment. To secure the necessary manpower the hiring age of experienced mechanics was raised from 45 to 55 years. Southern Pacific personnel increased in proportion to its plant expansion. More than 10,000 employees were added to the Pacific lines alone in the two-year period from July, 1939, and the monthly payroll in the same period rose from $6,849,000 to $9,222,000, an increase of 34.65%.
Since Pearl Harbor the railroad’s main job has been winning the war. Some 7000 S.P. employees are now in the armed forces. President Mercier early announced as the company’s war slogan “The Victory Train Comes First.” Today even the limited and “hot shot” freights are taking to the sidings to clear the tracks for the swift movement of troop trains and trainloads of fighting equipment or supplies of raw materials for war industries.
One of Southern Pacific’s longest and heaviest locomotives – One of the company’s few coal-burners in use on the Rio Grande Division.
Reviewing the situation recently President Mercier said: “Much credit for the job being done by Southern Pacific in carrying the greatest load in its history should go to the military authorities for their effective teamwork with the railroads,, to the regular commercial shippers for their cooperation in heavy loading and prompt unloading of cars, and to the loading and prompt unloading of cars, and to the press and the public for their understanding attitude in cases when service has been temporarily delayed or interrupted by wartime emergency conditions. I know the men and women of Southern Pacific whose fine spirit and untiring effort have struck a telling blow for their country in its emergency, will continue to do their part and more.”
A man was just waking up from anesthesia after surgery, and his wife was sitting by his side. His eyes fluttered open and he said, "You're beautiful." Then he fell asleep again. His wife had never heard him say that, so she stayed by his side. A few minutes later, his eyes fluttered open and he said, "You're cute!" The wife was disappointed because instead of "beautiful," it was now "cute." She said, "What happened to 'beautiful'?" The man replied, "The drugs are wearing off!"
Many thanks Doug and Dave for the kind words on my post. I will get to work on part two.
Great info on the SP in war-time and the cab forwards, Doug and Dave there was nothing like them in the UK.
One small qustion you may be able to help. On the front of the Queen Mary diesel the loco has the train number in the box on the nose, not the loco number. was this only on the SP. I see on the photos of the steam locos, the engine number is on the box at the front. Pete.
Good morning one and all! Sure wish I could answer your question on the number placement on the SP Queen Mary Peter. Does anyone else know? This is the type of question that I'll bet the guys in the historical society could answer. I'll field it in the Yahoo forum for the group, and see what comes up!
Sunday, as all the Our Place regulars know, was established as a day off from normal posting because the bar was closed, but pix were encouraged. Two problems arose. There were only a few of us who scraped together enough pictures to consistantly post, so most people were not contributing. The even bigger problem was that too many pictures on these forum pages creates a lot of data that takes a lot of computer memory, and pages loaded dreadfully slow. Some people could not even load certain pages at all, so they couldn't see the pictures anyway. So, if you're going to upload pix today, let's keep the quantity down, and spread evenly through the pages please. Having said that:
Yesterday was “Diesel Days” at the Illinois Railway Museum, and I managed to sneak in before the crowds arrived. We only have 2 Southern Pacific Locomotives at the Illinois Railway Museum. One is steam and the other diesel.
Texas and New Orleans (Southern Pacific) 975
1918 Santa Fe (2-10-2) Steam Locomotive
The 2-10-2 debuted on the Santa Fe, which gave the wheel arrangement its name. With large tractive effort and relatively smaller drivers, early 2-10-2’s were used for low speed drag freights and helper service on heavy grades.
Even those built after World War I, with larger 63 inch drivers, were still speed restricted. Few were built after the late 1920’s, but many remained in use on lines with heavy freight traffic until the end of the steam era.
Southern Pacific operated over 180 2-10-2’s. Nearly half were used on its Texas and New Orleans subsidiary, which handled SP’s traffic in Texas. The 975 was built by American, had 63 inch drivers, a 4,000 gallon fuel capacity, weighed 352,000 pounds, and exerted 65,300 pounds tractive effort under 200 psi boiler pressure.
TN&O 975 was donated to the city of Beaumont, Texas in 1957 for park display. The city sold it to the Illinois Railway Museum in 1992. Following years of work to restore its running gear and air brakes, it was towed to Union in 1995 by one of IRM’s own diesels. It is one of only eight surviving 2-10-2’s.
This locomotive will hopefully be re-painted soon. It’s relied upon heavily during our “open” season at IRM for moving passenger cars along our 5-mile-long simulated railway.
Southern Pacific 1518
Builder:
Electro Motive Division GM
Model:
SD-7
Horsepower:
1500
Length:
60ft 8 in
Width:
10ft 8in
Height:
14ft 1in
Brakes:
24RL
Engine:
16-645CE
Motors:
6 EMD
Trucks:
EMD C
Description:
Diesel-Electric / First SD Series Built
By the way, Trains magazine wrote a great article about this locomotive in their September 1997 issue, pages 66-68, in one of their “where is it now?” sections. Don’t know if I have that at the moment, but I will find out!
A man and a woman who have never met before find themselves in the same sleeping carriage of a train. After the initial embarrassment they both go to sleep, the man on the top bunk, the woman on the lower. In the middle of the night the man leans over, wakes the woman and says, "I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm awfully cold and I was wondering if you could possibly get me another blanket?" The woman leans out and, with a glint in her eye, says, " I have a better idea, just for tonight, let's make pretend that we're married!" The man says happily, "OK!" AWESOME!" The woman says, "GOOD .... Get your own dang blanket!!!
Doug great pictures of the SP 2-10-2 steam loco and the SP diesel at the IRM. I really must get to the museum one day.
That is a large UP diesel behind #1518.
Many thanks jimrice4449 for the info on the engine/train number question.
I have 3 photos from the recent trip to England. These were taken in late May at York station on a railfan special.
The train originated at Tysley in the suburbs of Birmingham, England and was steam hauled via Leicester, the Erewash Valley line, Chesterfield (notMO) Rotherham, Pontefract to York. The train carried on to the seaside town of Scarborough.It returned steam hauled to Tysley the same day.
The engine is one of Sir William A Stanier design Jubilee class 4-6-0 3-Cylinder locos A class of 191 locos.Built in the 1930s. 4 are preserved and three of them have run in presveration days. the engine shown is # 5690 LEANDER probably named after a British Warship. It is in the Crimson Lake livery of the LMS. Leander would have been a fairly regular visiter to York in BR days as it was allocated to Bristol( Barrow Road) shed and would of worked passenger and parcel trains on the South West to North East route. Pete
Hey! Someone new! Greetings to Jim who really came to the rescue on the SP numbering question. Very impressive Jim, and I hope this becomes a thread you frequent. Great pix from Pete too, and it's nice to see you also today! As clean as everything is at that station, the pix almost look like a model railroad. It would certanily be an interesting station to have on ones layout, to be sure!
The large diesel in front of the SP 1518 is the UP 6930, which could use a paint job too!
This is the Burlington Northern 5383 U-30C which I spent about 80 hours needle chipping, sanding and wire brushing prior to its being repainted. It’s almost done, and was displayed yesterday. It is the largest working diesel unit we have at the museum. Sorry about only getting pictures of it while it was still inside the diesel barn. I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunity to photograph this train at work in the near future.
A man and a woman had been married some time when the woman began to question her husband. "I know you've been with a lot of woman before. How many were there?" The husband replied, "Look, I don't want to upset you, there were many. Let's just leave it alone." The wife continued to beg and plead. Finally, the husband gave in. "Let's see." he said "There was one, two, three, four, five, six, you, eight, nine..."
I plan to start the day tomorrow with a Pullman car article. Let's see where it goes!
Good morning one and all! As, promised, here is Pullman varnish post that I hope you will enjoy:
By 1887, the facilities of a luxury train had been still further extended. Observation cars, for instance, were coming into vogue and the rear half of the Pennsylvania Limited’s last vehicle was a comfortable saloon with 5 ft-deep plate-glass windows looking out over a verandah with elegant wrought nickel and brass guard-rails. Next to the saloon was a writing room, overhung by palms spreading from pretty jardinières and furnished with secretaire and bookcase; here a skilled stenographer was on call to take and type passengers’ correspondence. The rest of the car was given over to private staterooms, each with its own lavatory, and decorated either in Oriental or Louis XVI style, with varying finishes in Circassian walnut, Tabasco mahogany, English oak, vermillion wood, rosewood or Santiago mahogany.
Next up from the rear of the train came the Pullman sleepers, featuring both standard open-section areas and private drawing rooms with accommodation for two or five. One of the cars even boasted an incredibly ornate bridal suite with white woodwork, leaded glass, extravagant gilt ornamentation and metalwork, and lush velvet drapery. There was nothing strictly functional about the sleeper lavatories either: you stood on a ceramic tiled floor, studied yourself in beveled mirrors and rested between operations on a padded wicker chair to admire polished woodwork that was as finely executed as any in the living accommodation.
Next came the diner, with elegant chairs backed and seated in embossed leather, overhung with more potted greenery and serving cuisine to challenge the finest of Chicago and New York hotels.
The 1905 Oriental Limited’s Pullman diner was supposedly styled to represent an English Inn interior with ceiling beams and leather-backed chairs. (Courtesy Arthur Dubin collection)
And finally a remarkable multi-purpose car, mostly occupied by the men’s saloon. To quote a contemporary description, “it provides a buffet and all the luxury of an elegant, up-to-date club. There are daily papers, magazines and books on the tables, and facilities are on hand for those who care to play cards, chess or other games. Stock Exchange quotations are, with other items of commercial and general news, regularly supplied to the train at its stopping places. Passengers further have the advantage of a hair-dressing saloon, and there are bathrooms for ladies and gentlemen, equipped with the most approved accessories.” And finally, for this was still something of a novelty to be stressed in promotion: “The train was lighted by electricity, the current being obtained from a dynamo supplying the 500 lamps comprised in the installation; but in order to guard against the possibility of a breakdown, Pintsch’s gas fittings can at a moment’s notice be brought to use in any of the compartments. Electric reading lamps are available in the library car and in the observation car, and every section of the drawing room sleeping cars contain two such lamps, which may be used by passengers who desire to read in their berths.” The Pennsylvania’s publicity department had a right to proclaim the “Limited” to be “the newest and most complete Railway Train of this progressive age.”
Many moguls of industry sought something even more palatial than the private rooms of a train like the “Pennsylvania Limited.” The commercially eager Mr. Pullman was only too happy to build and sell the tycoons their own private cars, which they would pay to have attached to ordinary service trains, or in some cases would have hauled free, so humbly grateful were the railroads for such august patronage.. As the luxury train acquired fresh refinements, so – on an even grander scale – did these so-called business cars. The most splendid of them ran to marble baths, hidden safes, Venetian mirrors, and open fireplace burning balsam logs (this was John Pierpont Morgan’s), and even an English butler to supervise the car’s private cellar and the Lucullan output if its kitchen. By the 1920s some magnates were paying as much as a quarter of a million dollars for a single vehicle.
The railroad baron Jay Gould on occasion ran his own complete train of four business cars, the staff of which included a doctor to tend Gould’s fragile digestion, plus a special baggage car at the head-end that served as a byre for the milch cow which was taken on the trip to ensure a flow of milk with butterfat constituency exactly conforming to the great man’s dietary regime. A French nobleman, Count Boni de Castellane, who was invited aboard Gould’s train when he was courting the banker’s daughter, recorded in his diary that full evening dress was de rigueur at dinner and that guests’ private rooms teemed with butlers and valets, footmen, ladies’ maids and grooms of the chambers. Of another eminent financier’s wife it was said she had assumed a journalist that “The only thing that’s economical about our car is the solid gold plumbing. It saves polishing, you know.
In terms of housekeeping the Pullman operation outstripped that of any chain hotelier for scale. At the peak of the company’s business in the 1930s and 1940s its stock of sheets and towels, for instance, was between 3 ½ and 4 million in each case. The activity of its ten company-owned laundries was frequently worth more than three million dollars a year. It refused to rely on outside suppliers for furniture and fittings, and maintained its own workshops to turn out everything from a richly upholstered chair to a toilet seat. The company had its own printing plant, too, from which issued a torrent, not only of working documents and publicity material, but of minutely detailed rulebooks and instruction manuals for Pullman staff.
Afternoon tea service in the ladies’ lounge of Chicago & Alton’s “Alton Limited.” Although not seen in this particular picture, the waitresses were arrayed in full Japanese rig (Courtesy Arthur Dubin collection)
From the start Pullman determined to make the personal service in his cars a byword. Nothing, it was said, could happen in a Pullman car that was not covered by an instruction in the voluminous Pullman rulebooks, which dealt meticulously with every conceivable aspect of hospitality and service to the passenger, whether it be from conductor, porter, maid, barber or bus boy. And the tradition was jealously upheld by the car staff, to the extent that they were perennially the prime quarry for staff head-hunters from the White House as well as upper crust hotels and clubs. The Pullman porter – generally Negro, from the date the first black porter was recruited in 1870 – was justifiably the American symbol of service to the customer for decades. As a mark of Pullman’s infinite care for detail of service, a full quotation of the Pullman service manual’s elaborate step-by-step primer on the basic art of filling an order for a beer is an apt crown to this chapter:
Wow...talk abouit your "slow day." No posts since early AM. Well, if the thread doesn't work, then it doesn't. I still won't throw in the towel for awhile. SO maybe this next post will generate some interest or discussion. Here's part I:
The Wreck at Spuyten Duyvil By H.R. Edwards – Dec 1935 Railroad Stories
A light snow was swirling around the Chicago-New York Express as she double-headed out of Albany at 3:06 – twenty-six minutes late – on a gray January afternoon of 1882, straightened her “string of varnish” after leaving the yards, and settled down for the 142-mile run to New York City.
It was Friday the 13th. Although there were thirteen wooden cars in that train, the possibility of a jinx didn’t seem to worry the seventy-seven politicians who were traveling southward from the New York State Capital on free passes given by the New York Central & Hudson River Railroad.
They laughed and rough-housed like schoolboys on a holiday. As a matter of fact, that’s just what it was. The State Legislature had adjourned for the weekend, and they were going back to the big city – back to the bright lights of Broadway and the three-story brownstone mansions of Twenty-third Street.
Just behind the two locomotives were coupled two mail cars; then a baggage car and four passenger coaches, all the property of the railroad. Lastly, and most important, came six parlor cars: the “Red Jacket,” the “Sharon,” the “Vanderbilt,” the “Minnehaha,” the “Empire,” and the “Idlewild” – all built and owned by the Wagner Drawing-Room Car Company, of New York; each valued at about $17,000.
Mr. Wagner himself was riding that train. Webster Wagner, of Palatine Bridge, N.Y. (some fifty miles west of Albany). Inventor of the sleeping-car, president of the Wagner Company, five times elected to the State Senate, and an influential member of its railroad committees.
Mr. Wagner was sixty-four. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a high forehead and blue eyes, and possessing rare vigor for a man his age. His young son-in-law, Jay Taylor, was riding the same train as parlor-car conductor in charge of the Wagner rolling stock.
The newspapers that day were filled with rumors of a proposed merger between the Wagner Company, capitalized at five million dollars, and the Pullman Company, capitalized at ten million, which soon would be twelve and a half million. Such a combination would monopolize the field, revolutionize railway travel, and bring immense revenue to the stockholders of both concerns. It was expected to be the crowning triumph of Webster Wagner’s long and useful career.
Newspaper reporters were trying to get a statement from Mr. Wagner; but, like the good politician that he was, he shook their hands with a genial smile – and talked about other subjects. As the Chicago Express rumbled through deepening shadows of the late afternoon, winding along the snow-covered bank of the Hudson, he passed around cigars to the political news-hounds and told his life story.
Mr. Wagner revealed that he was born at Palatine Bridge on the second of October, 1817, became interested in transportation at an early age, and was apprenticed to his brother James as a wagon builder. Later the two brothers went into partnership, but Webster soon decided there was more of a future in railroading, so he resigned and got a job as station agent at Palatine Bridge.
He held that job from 1843 to 1860. During that time he watched the long through trains of comfortless cars go by his station, and one day stumbled upon the idea that brought him fame and fortune.
“I never thought of the sleeping-car,” Mr. Wagner admitted to reporters, “until I saw one of a very clumsy pattern built by a man living near Palatine Bridge. The man had no capital, no capacity, and not much inventive genius. I saw right away that his idea was good, but had to be developed.”
“I hadn’t much capital, either, but I applied to William H. Vanderbilt for permission to use an old passenger coach to illustrate my notion of what a sleeping-car should be. I knew that the Hudson River Railroad was sharing a large amount of business with night boats that it should have for itself. Men who needed all the time they could get begrudged the five or six hours lost in traveling between New York and Albany by boat. It seemed to me that much time could be saved by providing accommodations for merchants and others who would be glad to sleep while they traveled rapidly.”
He broke off abruptly, opened the window and peered out. The snow had stopped falling. A tiny station rushed by in the gathering twilight.
“The air feels good!” he exclaimed, and closed the window. “It was quite a problem for me to get the right ventilation in those cars. Oh, yes, as I was saying, my request for an old car was granted, and I went to work to fit it with berths. It took me months to finish that car. Even then it had to be approved by Commodore Vanderbilt before it could be used on this road. I urged his son, William H., to persuade the old man to look at my car. At first the Commodore ignored my request, but finally consented.
“It was a critical Sunday morning in 1858 when old Vanderbilt and his son were to visit the Thirtieth Street depot in New York to look at my new-fangled contraption. Before they arrived I walked through the car a dozen or more times to see that everything was all right. After the Commodore had made his inspection he asked: “How many have you got of these things?” “There is only one,” I told him. “Go ahead!” he said. “Build more! It’s a devilish good thing, and you can’t have too many of them.”
“I realized then that my fortune was made,” Senator Wagner continued. “With my brother’s help four cars were built at a cost of thirty-two hundred dollars each, and they began running on the first of September, 1868. The first car had a single tier of berths, and the bedding had to be packed away in a closet at one end of the car, thus occupying much valuable space. Too much in fact. The one tier of berths was not profitable enough, so another was installed. Thus the modern sleeping-car came to be.”
“What did you do about ventilation?” one of the reporters reminded the inventor.
“Oh yes,” was the reply. “At first the ventilation system was found to be imperfect. The upper berths were too close, as the roof was flat. To overcome that objection I devised and applied the pitched roof, much higher than that of the old cars; thus securing ventilation and eventually the swinging upper berth which was adopted later and is in use today.”
Incidentally, the invention of the elevated roof proved so useful that it was applied not only to sleepers, but also to day coaches. On August 20th, 1867, Mr. Wagner put into operation his first drawing-room car for day travel. He made several trips abroad to study the English, French and Swiss passenger cars, survived two or three wrecks, and finally, in 1882, was looking forward to a merger with the rival interests of George M. Pullman.
*** Neither Wagner nor Pullman invented the first sleeping-car. Back in 1843 the Erie Railroad had 2 sleepers, known as “diamond cars” after the shape of their windows, built by John Stephanson. Even before that in 1837, the Cumberland Valley (P.R.R.) had a sleeper, the “Chambersburg,” with 12 berths in 3 tiers but no bedding. ***
Good morning, and here's part II of:
But Senator Wagner did not live to see the merger consummated. And all because of that hilarious group of politicians who were riding in his drawing-room cars from Albany to New York on Friday the 13th. At least, that’s what the train crew maintained in the investigations that followed, although no one came forward to name the guilty person.
Everybody agreed that there was quite a bit of drinking among the passengers that afternoon on the Chicago Express, and even two or three of the porters showed signs of intoxication. As Conductor George Hanford testified later:
“We had a lively party on board. All through the cars they were passing bottles, drinking freely, smashing hats, and signing songs. Apparently they were sober when they boarded the train in Albany, but many became drunk after the train started. I had no control over them. Someone, I don’t know who, pulled the rope connecting with the air brakes, and the train came to a standstill, to enable the engineer to pump out the air.”
If pulling the rope was intended to be a joke, it proved to be a ghastly one. The train had stopped a little to the north of Spuyten Duyvil, on the outskirts of New York City. At that point there was a deep cut through a ledge that obstructed a view of the station. On one side rose rocks and high ground. The other side sloped down toward the Hudson River.
Just before entering the cut a south-bound train had to round a long curve, and see what was around that curve ahead of them. Previously the N.Y.C. & H.R. had kept flagmen on duty at both ends of the cut, Bill McLaughlin and Richard Griffon, paying them each about thirty dollars a month, but in a wave of economy they had discharged McLaughlin, leaving the dangerous stretch of track insufficiently guarded at the north.
At the moment the express cam to a sudden stop, Senator Wagner was talking to some of his political companions in the Empire, the second car from the rear. One of them was saying:
“I’ve got a couple of friends here who want to get passes from you.”
Nobody knows whether or not the inventor had a presentiment of tragedy on that occasion, but he certainly betrayed uneasiness over the unscheduled stop. He rose and remarked:
“Well, gentlemen, I think I’ll take a look through the train. These confounded railroads have a passion for smashing up my best cars.”
Mr. Wagner left the Empire and hurried back into the end car, the Idlewild. That was about 7 p.m. It was the last time he was seen alive.
Edward Stanford, engineer on the first locomotive, who had been employed on the New York Central for twenty-five years, made several attempts to start his train, but only succeeded in breaking the drawbar connecting the two engines.
The second engineer on the doubleheading express, Archibald Buchanan, who had eighteen years of engine service on that road, said later that he had seventy-five pounds of air on, and it had dropped at once to forty when somebody back on the cars pulled that cord, and he had tried to relieve the brakes by pumping them off. Recharging an air cylinder, he pointed out, took about fifteen minutes.
Meanwhile, George Melius, the hind brakeman, swung into action. This was his story:
: A minute or two after our train stopped I got my lamps, white and red, and walked back to protect the rear. I stood behind my train about two minutes, and then started back around the curve about six or seven car lengths behind my train. It took me about five minutes to walk that distance” – at the investigation later he was made to walk the same distance, which took only two minutes – “and I stood there perhaps two or three minutes.”
“I waited there ecause I considered the distance sufficient to stop any train. While I was on duty at that poit, the Tarrytown local came in sight, seven or eight car lengths from where I stood. Instantly I started waving my red lantern across the track. I think there was time enough to stop the train, even though I judges she was making about forty miles an hour.”
His brother, who was a conductor on the Poughkeepsie train, advised Brakeman Melius to modify that speed estimate in telling his story to the coroner’s jury – “because,” said Conductor Melius, “the Tarrytown local had just stopped at the Spuyten Duyvil depot and could not possibly have picked up so much speed in that distance.” So George modified his story for the official investigation.
At 6:40 p.m. the southbound local had left Tarrytown, N.Y., fourteen miles away, with Frank Burr at the throttle and Patrick Quinn wielding the scoop. Both were men of years experience in engine service on the N.Y.C.
“We were five minutes behind time when we pulled out of Tarrytown,” Burr explained, “because we had waited for the Chicago Express to pass us there. The express went by at 6:15 at high speed, evidently making up for lost time. We stopped at Spuyten Duyvil depot at 7:04. We were then thirteen minutes behind the express.”
The number “thirteen” seems to run like a theme song through the history of this occurrence. It was Friday the 23th, there were thirteen cars on the express, and the local was running thirteen minutes behind the express.
:After leaving Spuyten Duyvil,” said Engineer Burr, “we entered the cut at the rate of eighteen or twenty miles per hour. There was no danger signal or warning of any kind in the cut. And, I might add, Kilcullen’s Hotel, standing close to the right-of-way, completely shut off our view of the curving track until we were almost on top of the stalled train.”
“We passed out of the cut into the curve – I was looking ahead at the time – when I saw a flagman (Melius) with red and white signals in his hands. He was swinging the red across the down down, upon which we were. At the same time I saw the rear of the express before me.”
“When I first noticed the red light, the flagman was standing not more than two car lengths ahead of me, and the train was not more than thirty-five feet beyond the flagman. Altogether I was not more than three and a half car lengths behind the express when I first sighted her.”
“I put on the air brakes at once, reversed the engine, pulled the throttle wide open, blew the whistle, and did all in my power to stop. But a collision was inevitable. I remained at my post until the engine finally plowed into the rear of the express and stopped there. Then I got out and did what I could do to help with the work of rescue.”
The locomotive of the Tarrytown local was only slightly damaged. Her overhauling was estimated later to be not more than a fifty-dollar job. She was embedded in the parlor-car Idlewild. Her headlight, broken but still shining, had pushed its way a dozen feet within the luxurious car, casting a weird glare upon the terrified passengers.
The Idlewild, in its turn, had been partly telescoped into the car ahead, which was the Empire. It was not known then how many persons had been killed or injured, but the engine had a full head of steam and a boiler explosion was feared. An explosion under those circumstances would have added frightfully to the casualty list.
James Kilcullen, proprietor of the small saloon and hotel near by, had viewed the catastrophe from his doorway, and was one of the first to hasten to the rescue with a ladder, an ax, and a couple of water buckets. Said he:
“If you want to use a shutter or two to carry the victims on, don’t hesitate to tear them off my house.”
Survivors of the wreck who had managed to scramble out of the cars, aided by a number of husky fellows who hurried to the scene from near-by villages, formed a bucket brigade and threw water from the Hudson River onto the last two parlor-cars, which had caught fire almost immediately after the collision.
Engineer Burr was the first to recognize the damage of a boiler explosion. Seizing the fireman’s scoop from Patrick Quinn, he commenced piling great shovelfuls of snow into the furnace. Fortunately, although it was mid-winter, the weather was rather mild, and the snow was soft enough to work with.
Water carriers who had been emptying their pails onto the flaming cars, followed Burr’s example and dashed them against the locomotive boiler instead. Eventually the fire in the firebox was quenched, and attention was turned once more to the Empire and the Idlewild, from which came the agonizing cries of victims who were slowly burning to death.
Conductor Hanford, of the express, noticed that the occasional pailfuls of water were doing very little to check the blaze. “For God’s sake, hurry!” he cried. “Throw snow onto the fire!”
And, although badly burned about the face and hands, Hanford started to roll a snowball toward the terrible mass of burning timbers and hissing metal. Soon hundreds of willing hands were pushing great mounds of snow toward the danger spot. Some, braving the fierce heat, ran alongside the blazing cars and tossed the snow in through the windows. Others risked death themselves to drag out both the living and dead from the fiery hell-holes.
To enable rescuers to keep at work while removing the victims, their companions deluged them with water and pelted them with snowballs.
At the moment of impact, the lamps in one end of the Empire went out. Those in the other end gave a light which, pale and sickly though it was, proved to be a blessing. With this illumination every occupant of the Empire was enabled to get out or be carried out alive before a wall of fire made exit impossible; and no one perished in that car.
Until a year and a half before the accident the N.Y.C. & H.R. had lighted cars with candles. General Superintendent John M. Toucey maintained that these were safer than oil lamps; but the traveling public had complained that they could not read by such light, and so oil lamps were substituted.
The cars were heated by the Baker patented process, not by stoves, and the heating apparatus was concealed from view. Nevertheless, according to Conductor Hanford, who had been in train service on that road for eleven years, this system was the cause of the fire, though oil lamps added to the conflagration.
Tons of snow were thrown upon the two cars, and in a short time the volunteer workers had the hills and roadway scraped almost entirely clear of snow. Even this, however, seemed hardly able to abate the heat. Late at night relief came with the arrival of the fire department from Carmansville, a wrecking train from the Thirtieth Street depot, and two or three ambulances made a long and terrible drive through the dark over snow-covered, muddy roads.
The fire apparatus, pumping water from the Hudson, soon put the fire out. But before this happened, the cars had been reduced to a shapeless mass of charred wood and twisted metal.
James Kilcullen threw open his place to the victims, dead and wounded alike. When the grim casualty list was finally counted, there were found to be eight dead – most of them burned beyond recognition – and nineteen persons were seriously injured.
The bodies were carried into Kilcullen’s saloon and there were laid, a ghastly spectacle, upon the floor and billiard tables. Two rival undertakers who had hurried over from Yonkers, N.Y., quarreled with each other as to which one should take charge of the bodies.
*** no joke for this post ... it would not be appropriate ***
Barndad's Roundhouse, you must have been shaving when you thought up that one.
Doug, if this link goes through, it's to an illustration of Wagner's train wreck from Harper's Weekly, Jan. 21, 1882. After you've seen it, remember, the set-up is different now, so don't click the "X" to close the window, but do hit the "back" button to return to this page.
http://www.catskillarchive.com/rrextra/wksdhw01.jpg
Pete, these links are very, very slow to load at dial-up speed, but it's a good view of the tracks at Waverly Station in Edinburgh, June 15, 1961, and a locomotive, hopefully reminiscent of your train ride from London.
http://purl.dlib.indiana.edu/iudl/archives/cushman/full/P12312.jpg
http://purl.dlib.indiana.edu/iudl/archives/cushman/full/P12314.jpg
Dave, I'm fresh out of Espee pix but, as always, I enjoyed reading your posts on that subject.
Ted and Eric, hope to see you guys soon again.
That's about it, too hot to think, 95 to 100 degrees here.
Hi Dave, and it's great to see you back! Nice to see Sir Mike too, and thanks for the Spuyten Duyvil jpeg link. Check out the difference between your picture and the one in my pulp book
Scene of Spuyten Duyvil wreck, looking toward northeast, just after the railroad tracks had been cleared. In the foreground is the creek which marked the boundary line between Spuyten Duyvil and Manhatten. In the center are shown Kilcullen's Hotel and Saloon, to which the victims were taken.
My picture is yellowed because it's from a 1935 edition in poor shape. Your picure of Mr. Wagner is better too, by the way. Here is the rest of the story:
Aboard the wrecking train were General Superintendent Toucey, who was in charge of the entire N.Y.C. & H.R. Railroad between New York City and Buffalo, and Division Superintendent Charles Bissell. Both officials remained on the scene of the wreck all night, personally supervising the rescue work and disposal of the ruins.
By 4 A.M. the two tracks were cleared sufficiently for trains to run in both directions. The trains from New York brought a throng of newspaper reporters and curiosity seekers. Kilcullen’s thirst emporium did a land-office business, scores of men all day long drinking and playing billiards on the very spot where bodies of the wreck victims had been laid a short time before.
The first of the dead to be identified was Senator Wagner. The famous inventor had perished in the Idlewild, with which he had sought to equip with every appliance of safety and comfort. Sorrowfully his son-in-law, Conductor Jay Taylor, claimed the body. One of the Wagner cars was draped with black and coupled onto a special train taking the Senator back to Palatine Bridge where he was born sixty-four years before, and where he had served the railroad for seventeen years as station agent.
Another of the dead was the Rev. F.X. Marechal, chaplain for Blackwells Island, New York City – the spiritual advisor for inmates of the workhouse, the insane asylum and the almshouse. He, too, was burned to death in the Idlewild.
So were Mr. and Mrs. Park Valentine, a young bride and groom who had been married the night before at a fashionable society wedding in New England. He was twenty-two; she was nineteen.
Conductor Hanford was the last person to see the newlyweds alive. Forcing his way into the shattered and burning car, he saw the devoted pair standing together in the wreckage. Mr. Valentine was trapped beyond all hope of being extricated. His bride was clinging to him; only her clothing was caught in the wreckage.
Hanford said later that if she had been willing to slip out of her clothing and leave her husband she could have been saved. This he urged her to do, but the hysterical girl refused to obey. The heat was too intense for Hanford to stay in there long enough to force her to do this, to save the woman in spite of herself, and so the young couple died together.
Immediately after the accident, according to A.H. Catlin, who had charge of the road’s air-brake equipment, the brakes on the wrecked train were examined and found to be in good working order. Just who had pulled that cord, at the height of revelry back there in one of the cars, will probably never be known.
Mr. Toucey, however, picked on Conductor Hanford and Brakeman Melius, particularly Melius, as the prime scapegoats.
“The collision,” said he, “was a direct result of the violation of Rule Fifty-three.” Following is the rule he referred to, as stated in the N.Y.C. & H.R. Railroad rule book:
Whenever a train is stopped on a road, or is enabled to proceed at slow rate, the conductor must immediately send a man with red signal at least half a mile back, on double track, and the same distance in both directions if on single track, to stop any approaching train, which signal must be shown while the detention continues.
This must always be done whether another train is expected or not. In carrying out these instructions the utmost promptness is necessary; not a moment must be lost in inquiry as to the cause of stoppage or probably duration; the rear brakeman must go back instantly. Conductors will be held strictly responsible for the prompt enforcement of this rule.
At the coroner’s investigation, the attorney for Melius asked the general superintendent: “Suppose one of the employees cannot read. How should he know what the rules are?”
Mr. Toucey replied: “If there is such a man he ought to leave the employ of the road.”
“Do you know of any such?” persisted the lawyer.
“I do not,” said Mr. Toucey.
Then the truth came out. Although George Melius had been employed in train service on the New York Central & Hudson River Railroad for more than twenty years, he could neith read nor write!
It did not take the coroner’s jury long to reach a verdict. They held that eight persons had been killed “by criminal means and culpable negligence in the performance of their several duties” on the part of brakeman Melius, Conductor Hanford, Engineers Stackford, Buchanon and Burr, General Superintendent Toucey, and the railroad company itself.
Later the grand jury indicted Hanford and Melius on the charge of manslaughter in the fourth degree, and recommended:
(1) Discontinuence of the use of mineral oil for illumination in cars.
(2) Use of steam of hot water or hot air heating of cars instead of heating be direct radiation.
(3) Extension of the block signal system
(4) Larger train crews
(5) Employment of signalmen at all dangerous cuts and curves
(6) Trainmen and others holding responsible positions should be required to read and write.
(7) Inclusion of water pails and tools boxes containing axes, etc., on every train.
(8) The practice of giving free passes to legislators and others holding office under our state and city government is contrary to all proper ideas of good public policy and should be prohibited by law.
On account of the death of Senator Wagner, who had been a member of important railroad committees, the Senate of New York State also made an investigation. Its report, June 1, 1882, was vague and obviously written by politicians; but was definite about one point, namely, putting the blame upon brakeman Melius and not upon any of the railroad officials.
An aftermath of this disaster was revealed in a recent letter from Richard McCloskey, of Co. 3, Veterans Administration Home, Va., who wrote to Railroad Stories on his seventy-fifth birthday, June 10th, 1935: “I was a witness of the wreck at Spuyten Duyvil and knew George Melius. About a year after the wreck I boarded a horse car on Second Avenue, New York City, and recognized Melius as the driver. E was well disguised by a long growth of whiskers.”
*** still no joke, as it just isn't appropriate for this subject ***
Doug Great post on the Pullmans and the very sad 3 part Spuyten Duvil Wreak it is sad that it took bad accidents for the railway companies to bring in new safty rules and safer equipment. In the UK in the 60s there was a book brought out by railway and canel enthusiast named L.T.C. Rolt called Red for Danger which listed the major railway accidents in Britain investigated by the Board of Trade from the early days and the improvements that were made.
The book was published in paper back, I dont know if I have still got a copy back home if so I will bring it over.
Good to see you Dave thanks for the kind words.
Mike What great photos of Waverley station. I have made reference to them in my post below. the second of the photos at the north end shows two 0-6-0 diesel-electric shunting(swicher) locos which became class 08, there are still some in service on BR today they were introduced in 1953. the train in center has two class 26s locos these were built by the Birmingham Railway Carriage& Wagon Co. the class all finished up in Scotland. they have finished their main line work although a few are preserved. In the photo they are probably on an Inverness working where 2 locos would be needed for the climbs north of Perth. On the right is an Inter-city Diesel Multiple Unit most likely working a Glasgow fast service. The route between Edinburgh and Glasgow as seen some interesting developments in motive power. I will have to look a bit more in to it.
Here is part 2 of the trip in June
Tour to Scotland 2006
Part two Newcastle to Stirling
At Newcastle the 7:30 AM from London King’s Cross terminated and after a few minutes 91120 hauled the Mk IV coaching stock off to Heaton Depot for servicing. After the platform was clear the Edinburgh train arrived, having left King’s Cross at 8 AM but with a couple less stops, hauled by electric loco # 91102 Durham Cathedral. An on time departure past the Newcastle Keep which looked over a grand sets of diamond crossings in steam days, the track layout as been much simplified nowadays.
The train is soon speeding north past Heaton depot now mainly serving Diesel Multiple Units. Further north is a triangular junction which is a freight only line heading east and serving and area which was the Northumberland coalfield the area from which the Stephenson’s came from and is known as the “Cradle of Railways”.
Past a couple of lines serving open-cast coal pits and pleasant scenery the train approaches Berwick coming from the south the famous Royal Border Bridge (Mike had a great link showing the bridge in one of the posts at Our Place) is visible from the train as it as to make a long 90 degree turn. Over the bridge our train makes the only stop on this trip at Berwick-On-Tweed.
The reason I took the East Coast route to Scotland was that I had not traveled over the line north of Newcastle for many years. Leaving Berwick the train soon passes into Scotland and onto a part of the line, which runs on top of cliffs alongside the North Sea, this scenic bit of line does not get a lot of publicity unfortunately.
With Edinburgh bay to the east the train is soon slowing for Waverley station.
The station as been extended in the past and is quite difficult to navigate if not a regular user. We had arrived at platform 20, which is separated, from the main part of the station by a wall. So it was over the footbridge in to the main part. I though the train to Stirling would be leaving from one of the North Bays but it was due to leave from the south end of one of the through platform. Luckily it was a couple of minutes late and I was able to make the connection.
Waverley station was known to be tricky in the early days and by tradition the clock on the North British Hotel, by the station in Princes Street, runs two minutes fast.The hotel and clock can be seen in the top left corner of Mike’s first Waverley station link
There is a couple of great links to photos of Waverley in Mike’s post.
Heading north from Waverley the line runs through a shallow cutting with Edinburgh Castle high on a hill on one side and Princes Street on the other, after two tunnels the train calls at Haymarket station. On departure of the station Haymarket loco depot is passed. In steam days it supplied the top-link locos for the East Coast, including the A4 loco for the Non-Stop Elizabethan Edinburgh to London express a duty shared with King’s Cross depot. Later it looked after the Diesel fleet including 8 of the legendary Deltic Express Passenger Diesel-Electrics. Today the modernized depot looks after a large part of the Scottish Diesel Multiple Unit (DMU) fleet, of classes 150/2, 156 158 and 170/4.
After heading north for a few miles we head west towards Glasgow, leaving the line to the Forth and Tay bridges and Aberdeen. The magnificent Forth Bridge can be viewed in the distance from this line. I have heard that it is illuminated at night by floodlights a sight I would love to see.
Through Falkirk and a tri-angular junction it is not far to Stirling a pleasant enough trip on the 2-Car class 158 DMU although with the slowest approach to the station stops I can remember in quite a while. The last time I arrived in Stirling was on a steam special after a 10-day tour of Scotland. After a good lunch and a visit to Stirling’s oldest pub for a good pint of Dark Island which is brewed on the Isle of Orkney, then passing a shop that was selling T-Shirts that said “ Please God Anyone But England” a reference to the Soccer World Cup which was taking place at the time (Scotland didn’t qualify) which I must admit made me smile. I have always found the Scottish people very friendly and warm hearted and so it was on this trip
Stirling station front.
From the platform at Stirling showing the fine array of semaphore signals a rear sight in the UK nowadays. the steam loco depot was at the distant left of the photo. Click to enlarge.
I will do part 3 soon Hope you enjoy this Pete.
Hey Barndad is that the 6 spot from over in Mt Pleasant in your avatar? If not which loco is it? BTW great shots of the work going on, and old stories. I got hooked on them old railroad story pulps after getting some at RR days in G town.
Yes we are on time but this is yesterdays train
Login, or register today to interact in our online community, comment on articles, receive our newsletter, manage your account online and more!
Get the Classic Trains twice-monthly newsletter