Working a Big Industry

by Don Florwick

Ops at Mat Thompson’s Oregon Coast Railroad. Swift Packing Plant. (Tom Fedor)

This January fourteen members of the South Mountain Division responded to an invitation from Mat Thompson, MMR to operate on Mat’s exquisite Oregon Coast Railroad. We had a wonderful time and thank Mat for sharing his wonderful railroad with us. This was my 4th visit to Mat’s railroad. This time Mary Miller, MMR and I were assigned to work at the Swift Packing Plant. We had a blast, hence this article.

Ops at Mat Thompson’s Oregon Coast Railroad. (Don Florwick)

Mary and I begin our session at Hoyt Street Yard. The yardmaster showed us our Oregon Coast train. Behind our switcher we find a cut of 8 cars billed to the packing plant consisting of 4 empty reefers, 3 loaded stock cars, a box car of packing material, and a caboose.

The Swift Packing Plant is located along the railroad between the Hoyt Street Yard and Willbridge, 2 railroad miles away. As an extra, all scheduled trains are superior to us and we have to carefully pick our time to leave the yard for our run on the single track main to reach the plant. We receive a clearance from the yardmaster and, after checking our timetable for superior trains, we pick our way out of the West end.

Before reaching the plant siding we notice a double ended siding along the main, used for outbound traffic to be picked up by passing freights or another switcher out of Hoyt Street. This day, a yard switcher will service the siding during our 8 hour shift; taking our outbounds while delivering more empties and loads.

Just short of Willbridge, we pull our string slowly ahead until the caboose clears the siding switch and glide to a stop. With the switch lined for the plant, we back our string of cars slowly down the siding, clearing the main.

(Don Florwick)

A mailbox at the plant holds special instructions for us, from the customer, so that cars are spotted correctly and in a timely manner, ensuring plant operations proceed smoothly despite our inexperience with this job.

Reading the instruction provided by plant management, we discover that it takes 21 minutes to unload a stock car at the stock pens on track-2. It takes about an hour to load a clean chilled reefer at the plant on track-2, and about 2 hours to ice and chill a block of reefers on track-1 at the icing dock. We also note the track diagram provided so we can find our way among the maze of tracks at the plant.

Ops at Mat Thompson’s Oregon Coast Railroad. (Don Florwick)

Looking at the diagram, we note that track-3 runs along the back where supplies are offloaded for the packing plant. Track-4 is a service track and track-5 is the cleanout track for reefers. There also is a short runaround track on the ladder between tracks-3 & 5. Note the presence of another stock yard on the property. We were pleased to see there was plenty of head room on the lead to switch the plant without fouling the mainline.

Let’s get started spotting the 8 cars we brought to the plant this morning. You recall we boldly backed into the plant without thought, to clear the main while we looked over our instructions and developed a plan for our first service switch. At the plant we found 1 reefer loaded on track-2, at door-5 and 3 reefers iced, chilled and waiting at the ice dock on track-1. We noted there was one empty box car at door-5 on track-3 and a loaded tank car of tallow spotted near the oil tank, billed outbound.

Ops at Mat Thompson’s Oregon Coast Railroad. (Tom Fedor)

Once oriented, we devise our plan. Here is what we did. First, we pulled our string forward to clear the track-4 switch, then we backed onto track-4 to drop our caboose. Pulling forward to again clear the switch we lined it for the ladder and backed our 4 reefers onto track-5, the cleanout track, and cut away. We then left the remaining 3 loaded stock cars short of track-2 and moved to track-1 where we pulled the 3 iced reefers over to track-2 and shoved them down to doors-1, 2, & 3 for loading.

Ops at Mat Thompson’s Oregon Coast Railroad. (Don Florwick)

There were three timers provided for our convenience so we set one for 20 minutes.  That would use exactly 1 hour of the 3:1 fast clock time for loading. We then came back to the lead and grabbed the 3 loaded stock cars and swung them over to track-2 at the pens. We had 40 foot stock cars so each had to be individually positioned at the unloading shoots that were spaced for 50 foot cars. Once in position we set the second timer to 7 minutes, giving us 21 minutes of fast time for unloading.

Ops at Mat Thompson’s Oregon Coast Railroad. (Tom Fedor)

Moving to track-5 we pulled our cleaned reefer string to move them to the icing dock on track-1. We set our third timer for 40 minutes giving us 2 fast clock hours for icing and chilling. Pulling off the icing track, it’s back up the ladder to track-4 to pick up the loaded box car for door-6. Coupled up we move West down the ladder to track-3.

Ops at Mat Thompson’s Oregon Coast Railroad. (Tom Fedor)

We pick up the loaded tank car and empty box from door-5, then out to the ladder again, backing East to drop the box and tanker against the caboose on track-4 and cut away. We then spot the loaded box we had keep near the engine at door-6, on track-3.

Stepping back to asses our progress we find we have spotted the entire cut of cars we brought from Hoyt Street Yard. It’s now time to build a cut for the interchange. Checking our timers we see that our stock cars have been unloaded and the other timer for the loading dock has expired so the 4 reefers on track-2 at the plant are also ready to be pulled.  The interchange track will hold 8 cars, so we back down to track-4 and pick up the tank car of tallow. Next it’s over to  track-2 for all three empty stock cars. We also grab the 4 loaded reefers.

Once we had everything on track-2, we had our cut of 8 cars. Pulling up the spur to the company phone and after checking our timetable for scheduled traffic we called the dispatcher to ask if we could have time and track to pull out onto the main and drop our string onto the double ended siding for pickup.

The dispatcher gave us track time after passage of a scheduled freight. We waited 15 minutes for the freight to pass, notified the dispatcher, then pulled onto the main and made our backing move to the siding. Surprised, we find a new cut of cars awaiting us. You can imagine our movements, making the car exchanges along with the time it took plus returning to the plant siding with a new string of cars.

Ops at Mat Thompson’s Oregon Coast Railroad. (Tom Fedor)

We have now completed one servicing of the plant. The new string of cars picked up from the interchange brought 4 empty reefers and 4 loaded stock cars for us to position as our shift continued. And so it goes, we start another cycle of cleaning, chilling, loading, unloading cattle at the pens, as well as spotting supplies for the plant, and removal of byproducts. The process varies each cycle, dependent on the flow of cars to and from the plant. For instance we received 4 loaded stock cars this time and we have only 3 unloading shoots, so we will have to watch our timing since reefer loading and stock unloading happen on the same track. This variety of movement, timing of processes, masterful placement of service tracks at the plant make this a rich, challenging, and most sought out assignment on Mat’s railroad.

A big industry can be the main theme for a railroad when you are cramped for space. Mary and I were busy for over 3 real time hours servicing the plant. The randomness of cars received required a different operating plan to keep the product flowing from the plant on schedule. So a Swift Packing, cement, automobile, glass plant, or other big industry, with a realistic operating strategy and a few staging tracks can keep a small crew busy in an enjoyable and challenging way for hours.  Big industries can be fun and that might be all that you need!

Ops at Mat Thompson’s Oregon Coast Railroad. (Tom Fedor)

Winter Project

by Andrew Dodge, MMR

In 1888 the Colorado Midland Railroad bought a rotary snowplow from the Leslie Company. The original plow had a nine-foot rotary blade with a shroud 11 feet across that would clear a path wide enough for any Midland equipment. One of the more interesting aspects of the Leslie plow was the car body, which resembled a “greenhouse.” There was a crew area directly behind the blade and impeller wheel for the operators who had a full view out the front and sides thanks to all the windows. The body of the machine covering the steam engine to power the rotary was also lined with windows. One can only imagine all the broken glass that had to be repaired each winter

After a number of years in operation, the Midland decided to rebuild the body of their only rotary snowplow. In 1895 the railway’s shop converted the body of the machine to a more conventional and durable design, which included a minimal number of windows. The plow was numbered “08” until 1900 when the Midland bought a larger 11-foot bladed machine from the Schenectady Locomotive Company. The Leslie plow was renamed “Rotary A” and the new machine was designated “Rotary B,” and both machines survived until abandonment in 1918. The Midland Terminal Railway bought the Leslie machine in 1921, and it served that rail line until its demise in 1949.

The model represents the Colorado Midland’s Leslie snowplow after its rebuilding in 1895.  Everything on the modeled snowplow is scratch built from sheet brass and bar stock, sheet wood for the sides, and castings for the window and truck side frames.

The front truck of the plow does not include brake shoes due to the accumulation of snow and ice as the machine fought its way through snow drifts that sometime were higher than the machine.

The rear truck does include brake shoes so there is some way to help stop the plow. The roof is made up of individual six inch wide boards covered in tissue paper with holes in the roof for the smoke stack and the steam dome with its relief valves and whistle. (Building the tender is the next order of business.)

Looking at the model from the rear with the car body removed, one can see all the workings that make the blade turn. (There is a motor under the boiler and all the mechanisms work, even producing a breeze out the exhaust chute.) While some detail work remains, the wood platform is for the operator to supervise the movement and speed of the plowing operation.  He is also, and equally important, tasked with the responsibility to set the exhaust shroud for throwing the snow out to the left or right side of the train. The cylinders are set in a reverse position so they can power the blade through a set of gears. Due to blowing snow, shrouding had to be used to surround most of the boiler and the firebox to keep the working area as clean as possible. It would take at least a two-man crew to operate the boiler with its “Johnson Bar,” injectors, and to shovel coal. But, one of the most important jobs would be to operate the whistle, which was the means of communications between the plow operator up front and the crews in the four or five locomotives pushing from behind the snowplow’s tender.

Hellfire, Brimstone, & Damnation RR

I did not want my layout to be just a “steelworks railroad.” My real concern was for telling the story of the people of the Depression era.

Bob constructed 37 billboard freight cars using Clover House dry letter transfers, finding the transfers useful for building signs too.

Story and photos by Robert Law

Editor’s Note – This is part two in a series of posts from Bob describing the history and construction of his layout. Read part one here.

I had been in the business of restoring old homes in Upstate New York where I also attempted to convince the town fathers to establish an historic district to no avail. Nonetheless, this gave me a lot of background in architecture and “city scape.” Buildings like people evolve, undergoing all sorts of modifications during their existence. One of my favorite evolutions was what I came to call “Art Deco on the cheap.” It was ideal for my tumble-down Victorian city in the Depression. Real Art Deco was very expensive for the times but the Victorian style had become passé by then and store owners were looking to modernize but didn’t have much to spend. The style ran from the 1920’s to 1959. Art Deco was called “Futuristic” at the time everything was focused on streamlining hence another reason I love the GG1’s which was one of the first streamlined electric locomotives.

With observation and ingenuity, you can find all sorts of stuff to do “Art Deco on the cheap” from candy wrappers to fancy box ribbons. The bulkheads below store windows were clad with checkered tiles. A “Chock Full of Nuts” bag supplied that detail for me. Aluminum, because it was a new metal at that time, was used extensively for streamlined awnings on store entranceways. Old classical architectural items were painted in aluminum paint.  I found that the shiny metallic covers from toothpaste boxes gave the same effect as neon lighting if cut into fine strips. I added them along the entranceways of my commercial buildings. It even works to make signage appear as if it is lighted. Certain paint colors were associated with the Art Deco. I painted a diner converted from an old dinning car rose and sand which was one of the Art Deco color combinations. These Art Deco modifications hung around through the 1950’s and even long after, so they are good details for many layout eras.

Two events were to follow in close session that would change everything in our lives, and for the best. In August of 2003, there was a power blackout of the entire Northeast that terminated in New York City. The ultimate result was that the federal government reversed itself on deregulating the utility industry. A few months later a coworker alerted Betty that he had seen position openings for power engineers with the Office of Electric Reliability for the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) in Washington. It would be well over a year before Betty got a response to her application. During that time, Betty suffered and ankle injury. This was an unfortunate time for her, but for me it meant I could begin construction on my railroad in Frederick. A layout at last! Then, that winter, Betty was hired by FERC which allowed us to return to Frederick, MD.

As construction progressed, I learn my first lesson in layout construction. I did not know how much space the curving masonite back drop would take up.  In the end it threw my track plan off by three inches. So I had to extend the framing out into the passageway. This was not fatal. But I would warn those who want to attempt a small layout to plan the layout after having set in the backdrop. Also, I covered the masonite with wallpaper liner. This reduced the number of visible seams down to one. My intention is to expand my layout into an adjoining room that is now my workshop. I will not do any track planning until after having done the roadbed and the backdrop especially since this oddly shaped room will require many bends to the masonite.

Nonetheless, I did have a serendipitous finding as a result of this experience. Because of the need for the three-inch extension, having to allow for enough space for people to filter into the passageway from the stairway, I could not have a 90-degree angle. Therefor I had to create a 45-degree angle “wing.” This offered several benefits. First, it gave me more precious modeling space to use backdrop buildings. In fact, I was so happy with this, that I did the same thing at the other end of the layout. The result was that when a viewer stands in the passageway/viewing area they are given the impression of looking out into the layout (i.e. like a 300-degree viewing) as if they are seeing an entire world.

I did not want my layout to be just a “steelworks railroad.” My real concern was for telling the story of the people of the Depression era. Quoting Dickens, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”  The Hellfire, Brimstone, and Damnation is an aged railroad on hard times trying to get by with old equipment. GG1s represent the modernism of the futuristic streamline and electric age.  That was the essence of the period. Or as I like to say, the Pennsylvania Railroad was the “Standard Railroad of America” and the HB&D had no standards at all! I go to some lengths to display this.

HB&D shops.

The HB&D shops (above) and service area are littered with junk. There are marshy pools of water with cattails because no one is filling these depressions. There are junk and old ties thrown into the pools. The locomotives are heavily weathered and battered. The roundhouse roof is beginning to fall in on one side.

City scape.

The city is my favorite creation. Creating a “tunnel” as staging gave me much more space to create the city scape (above) that I had hoped for. It even provided enough room to run a trolley loop through the city. Most of all, it allowed me to crate the depth of field that makes the city look realistic to the viewer. Using fore-shorting and paper backdrops allowed me to create what looks like a full-scale city with municipal buildings, churches, stores and offices all in a very small space. I even cut out paper buildings to paste onto the paper backdrop along with advertising signs to make it appear to the viewer that they are able to see many blocks into the interior of the city. All the buildings contain as much detail as possible such as people, window curtains, lights, street lights and so on even though it might seem unnecessary. It is the richness of detail that makes the scene seem more authentic. Everything is lighted. Seen in the dark with all the hundreds of lights brings a magic to the city. I even created my own street light/trolley poles based upon a prototype found in a photo.

Tenements.

Once this realism is established in the mind of the viewer, their “mind’s eye” is deceived enough to continue on to the tenement scene and continue to believe that the city continues on much farther. Yet it is less than a foot deep.

WHEZ.

“The best of times, worst of times” theme is carried on in many mini-scenes. For people who had had a steady income in the professional classes, it was the best of times. Money went very far for those who had it. At the train station a young woman is returning from a shopping trip to New York on the electrified Pennsylvania Railroad. She is followed by a platoon of porters to the taxi with her packages. Meanwhile, across the street at the Brooklawn Night Club, well dressed customers are about to enter for an extravagant night of entertainment. For those unable to afford the steep price of admission, WHEZ radio would broadcast the proceedings from the transmission station on the second floor and tower on the roof.

Big Hearted Al’s.

At Big Hearted Al’s car dealership which specializes in luxury vehicles, a customer is greeted by a salesman.

Of course, the “worst of times” is well represented. Across the bridge and down the street is a “tourist home.” This scene actually based upon a story told to me by my mother. After finishing college in 1929, (not a good year) she could not find a job so she had to return home to help her mother who was ill. This required going to a nearby grocery store located a few blocks away and was actually located underneath a railroad viaduct. Found by the tracks was a “tourist home,” but from all the women sitting on the porch, she knew it was for another kind of tourism. But what saddened her was that she recognized many girls she had gone to high school with.

Brothels served many secondary services as well: most of all, a man could come just to take a bath for a small fee or just socialize with the women. 

Even before the Depression there were few job opportunities for women. With the Depression the situation became a disaster. Marriage engagements were broken off because the couple could not support themselves.  Men were forced to leave their wives to follow the hobo trail to find work and often were not heard from again.  Parents were often driven to “throw out” their older children from the family (both boys and girls) to care for the younger ones.  Prostitution became the only “plan B” for many women.  Brothels were run by “madams” or pimps who took all the money and only provided room and board.  It was actually a form of slavery.  Yet even this was preferable to the fate of older and less attractive women who worked and slept on the streets.

Paradise Burlesque.

The Paradise Burlesque was a preferable place to work for women.  Performers were on stage away from the men and protected by bouncers. Nonetheless, men with sufficient cash could “date” a dancer. The scene in front of the burlesque house was based upon an actual photo taken during the depression.  Even the burlesque houses were finding it difficult to attract patrons in the Depression.  They actually had to resort to print advertising; usually of a popular performer in front of an elegant car.

Taxi Dancers.

Likewise Taxi Dancers would dance with men for 10 cents for a three-minute dance (actually a high fee in those days). They could choose to take their partners upstairs or not but there wasn’t a lot of choice. Poverty can do that. For the price of a watered-down drink, a man could just socialize with a pretty girl. Unattached men were desperate for just the simple company of women.

Horse racing parlors were illegal in most states yet betting parlors often flourished in the open.  Bets were placed on horses running at races at race tracks outside the city and the results were “wired” in. It was all too easy to scam customers with false reports. The movie The Sting portrays this. The red-light districts flourished even in the most conservative of towns because of the power of the “mob” to buy police and political protection and simply because municipalities were forced to lay off policemen.  Priorities had to be placed on more serious crimes.   The hang outs of the “mob” was most often in poolrooms and bars.

Liquor had been legalized in 1933, nonetheless “bathtub gin” was not down and out. Hooch was available in liquor stores “under the counter.” As it was untaxed, it was much cheaper but often unsafe.  Alcoholism was rife as was drug addiction. In the side alleys and back lots of my layout you can find men passed out and nodding off.

Mission Societies were established by “respectable citizens” to “revive” the drunkard.  If a man was willing to put up with a sermon patronizing him as a “lazy bum” for not being employed, he could get a “hot and a cot.”  Experienced Bo’s shunned such places but the intermittently unemployed knew to watch outside for the sermon to end and then filter in behind the congregation when it was over to the soup kitchen in back and flop house above.

Boxcar shanties.

During the Depression, many railroads went out of business.  When a derailment occurred, cars from out of business rail lines were simply abandoned at the trackside. People quickly took advantage of these to make homes.  There were small “towns” of these throughout America.

The tenement dwellers on my layout are having a good day. The wind is blowing the factory smoke away from the slums.  Women are setting their wash out to dry so it won’t get sooty. In fact, the name for my city is Grimesburg. This is actually based upon a personal experience: I had an aunt and uncle who lived in Pittsburg. One Sunday I was waiting for the old folks to come down to the car and got bored. I leaned up against the wall of the house. When they finally came out, all the women exclaimed at the grime on the back of my shirt. I said that “Pittsburgh should be called Grimesburg.” This became a joke for a day or so: hence the name for my town.

Children playing.

There are a host of mini-scenes in the tenements: children playing in the back yards, guys repairing an old Essex, women haggling with street vendors for potatoes and secondhand clothes and neighbors gossiping and arguing.

Water on Mr. Beer.

The first photo of mine to appear in the Walthers catalog was of a woman pouring water on the head of an old slob  who keeps his yard in a total mess while the neighbors next door keeps theirs very properly. This was based upon personal experiences we had with a neighbor years ago. We would have liked to throw a bucket of dirty water on his head. It was one of my first models and submitted long before I actually had a layout.

The tenement districts not only consisted of apartments rented out to families but also single room occupancy hotels and boarding houses.  Boarding houses could be nice homes or more often in the Depression, a group of older women would combine their resources to buy or lease an old building. They would offer breakfast and dinner and a bed. This bed would be one among many beds that could be fit into a room and sometimes a hall.  No matter which accommodation you had, sleeping could be a challenge. Roommates snored, bed springs creaked, and fleas and bed bugs were not uncommon. But to catch up on a night’s missed sleep, or for emergency sleeping accommodations there was an unusual option: the “second run” movie theaters.

Theatre.

Second run movie theaters were not the “movie palaces” of the 1920’s. These were old vaudeville theaters that had gone to seed. With the simple addition of a movie projector and screen, these theaters offered popular movies that had already appeared in the better theaters. This offered cheap entertainment to the less well off. These theaters were open at least 12 hours a day and often for 24. They also had bathrooms, cheap snacks and heat in the winter and most of all; air conditioning in the summer.  The “air conditioning” often was nothing more than fans blowing over blocks of ice, but it worked. People flocked to such places in the summer. For a small entrance fee, you could stay there for as long as they were open.

Nothing “dates” a layout more than signs and automobiles. I am very proud of my collection of both, especially the signs.  Signs for the 30’s era are hard to come by. Some came from photos of the depression which Betty manipulated on the computer for colorization. Others I found at historic sites or museums. I took pictures and reduced them down on the copier. Some I found still extant on buildings especially in old industrial towns. In Scranton and Schenectady, I found quite a few. Some of those I collected have recently come available in the Walthers catalog which annoys me when I consider the work I went through to find them.

TB sign.

Photos show that signage got completely out of control in the Depression. Laid off workers started concocting all sorts of snacks, candy, sodas, and silly inventions they hoped would become popular and earn them a living. They would have advertising signs printed up, then locate some unemployed worker, provide him with a bucket of paste and a brush and send him off in the dark of night to plaster the signs on any available space. The signage would literally appear “overnight.” Signs were plastered over other signs. Signs grew bigger. Billboards started to spring up like mushrooms.

If all that were not enough, the New Deal got into the sign mania also with all sorts of posters dealing with such things as public health issues. Signs warning about venereal diseases and tuberculosis which were rampant during the Depression, were everywhere. They also had signs about using libraries to educate one’s self. There were signs about the importance of thrift, cleanliness, sending kids to school—you name it.

Some signs are of my own creation for a bit of humor utilizing Art Décor elements such as: Big Hearted Al’s New and Used Cars and Blind Faith real estate. In fact, Blind Faith Real Estate was an actual agency located in the Koreatown area of Manhattan. My luckiest find of all in signage, was finding the advertising banner that were given out to theaters to put above the marquee for Charlie Chaplin’s Modern Times. This film was released in 1936—just perfect for a second run theater in 1937.

After 1929, people held onto their automobiles for as long as they could. Therefor most of the cars found in photos from the era show 20’s automobiles. From the photos of the past it, was apparent I was going to need LOTS of cars to make an authentic 1930’s urban scene. Jorden supplied many of my models and sometimes some good ready-made ones became available. I even located some German cars that were very close in body type to 20’s and 30’s American Cars.  Sylvan offered some fine 1930’s car kits but they have only recently offered cars from the 20’s. There were over 400 auto makers before 1929.  Fortunately for me, their body styling was pretty much alike.  With some ingenuity, I was able to customize the Jordan kits which were mostly Fords to bring some variety to my “car scape”.  We had a kid next door who I used to call “Count Count.” When I invited him to visit my layout, he came up with 87 cars.  I have added quite a few more since then. 

Many people have the mistaken idea that all old cars were black. This was because they appeared black in the old photos but in reality, they came in all sorts of colors and were often two-toned, unlike what is available today.  Therefor painting cars in different colors was the easiest way to customize. Also putting spare tires in different places helped and where possible, I exchanged grill work from one car kit to another.

Roads.

The condition of the roads in the Depression became a big political issue largely due to the car makers and AAA. In the cities, streets were cobblestone but at the city limits, the roads were just dirt. This required that cars have very large wheels to get through the muck. Carmakers wanted to streamline cars (there’s that word again). This meant smaller wheels. With the New Deal carmakers and road builders were in the vanguard lobbying for “make work” projects to pave roads. These roads were often made of unreinforced concrete which quickly heaved and cracked, nonetheless this was a big improvement from the past. For me, this meant that there was nothing available to model these roads. I created my own (below) by utilizing cardboard painted grey and marking in the black caulk in the joints and then using a sharp pencil to make crack lines. I deliberately set the cardboard patches down to look a bit wonky and added fine strips of grass between the joints.

I have done my best in a small space to represent every aspect of steelmaking even if I had to use a paper pasted building in the background. However, my real goal was not so much to make a demonstration on steelmaking as to show the drama of steelmaking as I experienced it as a small boy. This required several lighting techniques. I used a passenger car lighting strip placed at the apex of the interior roof of the blast furnace to reflect down upon a strip of gold foil to which I glued smashed up orange glass donated by a friend who does stained glass work. This strip of foil and glass was placed within the floor channels of the blast house floor and extended beyond the channel about three inches to create a “slag fall” into the slag car.  This was an experiment on my part and I was pleased to find that this nicely replicated a glowing stream of slag. 

Next to create the glowing slag in the slag buggies, I used some thin orange plastic and cut circles to fit the bowls but did not secure the disks into the bowls at that point. I then drilled holes in the bottom of the bowls and then inserted an LED yellow light into the hole and secured it with electric tape. I did the same with the other car and then, once I determined the proper position of the car receiving the slag pour, I bored a hole through the layout, and brought down the wires of each car. The strip of gold foil and orange glass was cut to the proper length to fall properly into the bowl. Then the plastic orange disks were placed into the bowls of each car.

Steel mill.

To create the flashing effects of the oxygen lancing operation, I used a flashing welder light kit over which I overlaid some scraps of orange glass but left a hole for some of the white light of the bulb to come through as well. I tested this in a darkened room to determine if I had the desired effect and then poked the assembly to the rear of the furnace. I prepared a hole through the layout for the feed wires to pass through. I cut some strips of red glittery packaging from a toothpaste box and glued this to some silver foil from some cookie wrappers (we must all suffer for art) in alternating strips and then glued that to some scrap black plastic.  This was then applied to an opposite wall in the furnace area to create reflection off of the modified welding kit. All the feed wires each of these lighting effects were then fastened to a terminal block under the layout which then of course, was fed to a transformer.

Chimney smoke.

I believe that any factory chimney without smoke is like a face without a nose.  Creating smoke is quite easy:  go to a fabric store and buy some hollow fill.  This is used in quilting as filler. It is a polyester fiber.  Cotton batting will not work. Find some spot where you can make a mess and hang out a string for drying. Some rubber gloves might be desirable for this. Using an old pan, mix up a slurry of grey paint (or black if you like).  It should be fairly watery. Using a portion of your hollow fill, slosh it around in the slurry until it takes on the coloration.  It will not come out evenly but that is desirable. Drain off the color slurry but don’t wring it out. Wringing will cause the fibers to mat making it difficult to work with later. Sling the mess over your string and hang it out to dry. You can also make a second batch with the leftover, thinned, slurry. On the next day fluff and stretch it around until you get an appearance of smoke.

For chimneys with larger openings I use a wine bottle cork glueing the hollow fill to the upper end. Some fine wires will be required to pass through the hollow fill smoke to be secured to the cork for the “smoke” to retain its desired position. Then place into the chimney.

For the steam coming out of the slag bowls, I tore off some shreds of the less darkened smoke into a feathered effect and glued it to the surface of the orange plastic disks and the edge of the bowls to make it seem wind-blown. For the locomotives, I twisted the fibers into a knot and placed glue on the knot and put it into the smoke stacks. For all these applications I can highly recommend Beacon Quick Grip glue sold at Walmart in their craft department.

For the steam being created by the oxygen lancing procedure, I had made a small amount of hollow fill in a light slurry of dusty yellow. This blast furnace scene was my second submission to be accepted into the Walthers catalog.

Coke oven.

My coking oven scene was accepted by Walthers the following year. The prototype for this came from a book on Republic Steel written, photographed and published by the company just before it closed in 1954. I doubt that things had changed much from the thirties. This book offered color photos.  I had already planted the coke oven on my layout and had the quencher car set up, but I had always wondered how did the coke get out of the oven to the cars. The photo revealed that a small electric trolley would pull open an individual oven door. Somehow this triggered a simultaneous signal to a hydraulic pusher on the opposite side and the coke was pushed out. Afterward a small gas engine trolley would pull the quencher car to the quencher which was little more than a gigantic shower. More DRAMA for my railroad.

Much of this scene was made with scrap parts I had collected so I can’t really tell you fully how the trolleys were constructed but I got something pretty close to the prototype.  I used some left-over posts from a Walthers chain link fence kit for the transmission cable and a fine strip of styrene for the power cable below.  I cut out one of the oven doors with a Dremel grinding disk. Using a very long drill bit, I made a hole into the layout through the cutout oven door and fed a red LED bulb though that providing lighting from the inside. Then as with the slag pour scene, I glued bits of smashed orange and yellow glass onto a strip of gold foil, making it long enough to drop into the quencher car from the opening cut in the oven.

The quencher cars actually required the greatest effort. The hot coke so batters, corrodes and weathers these cars that the glow of the hot coke peeps out of the rusted holes.  I used an old worn out soldering iron and a penny.  I heated the inside of the quencher car until the plastic began to soften, and then using my finger, I would make a bulge on the outside of the car to replicate the metal fatigue when the hot coke would bend the car walls. I then drilled small holes here and there and the used the iron to make the holes wonky.  Rusting the outside was done in the traditional way. Then I lined the inside of the car with reflective cookie wrapping (one can gain a lot of weight doing a steel mill scene) and then drilled a hole to admit a red LED light into the bottom of the car.  This was covered over with more red and yellow glass shards.  The prototype picture showed a allot of sparks.  This I recreated with some gold Christmas glitter. Shreds of hollow fill smoke were then applied here and there.  Much the same process was used to make the car that had just been drawn through the quenchers only more hollow fill was added for stream.

Quencher car.

Some fine strips of clear plastic were “dirtied” with a wash of brown paint to depict water draining out of the car.

The prototype picture showed glowing bits of coke that had escaped the car and fallen to the ground. I scattered some fine shards of orange glass on the ballast. All this is just as effective in the “daytime” lighting of the layout as at night due to all the reflective material I used.  The prototype also showed puddles of water everywhere resulting from the great steam generated in the quenching process. For this I embedded some selected pieces of dark green glass into the homosote and then surrounded the glass with grass strips and reeds.

I never cease to be amazed at the resiliency of nature to be able to survive in the most hostile of environments.  The photographs I found must have been taken in early fall, since there are thistles, goldenrod and cattails everywhere, so I reproduced this. In fact, throughout my industrial urban layout I found myself recreating all sorts of vegetation for the realism I desired.

There is one thing that I have an odd connection to and that is cinders. The anthracite railroads did not use anthracite as that was a valuable product sold for home heating. The actual fuel used was “culm” which was a waste product of anthracite mining. It was pieces of coal bound to shale. The shale was what caused “clinkers” in home furnaces. This is why anthracite burning locomotives required especially large fireboxes with wider grates to allow the clinkers through. Small boys would pick out the culm in the tipples as the coal rushed by. My father had been hired as a “picker” at the age of ten in an anthracite mine outside Wilkes-Barrie, PA.

My association with cinders would take another odd turn much later in my life when we moved to our apartment in New Jersey on the shore of the Hudson.  Decades before our apartment had been built, the area had once been a swamp.  The anthracite railroads then built into this area to link to the ferry terminal to get to New York at Hoboken (our fair city). The railroads would simply throw their waste cinders into the swamp at the edge of the river, thereby creating more land upon which the railroad yards were extended. Our apartment building was built upon this cinder bed.

About two years into our residence there, I looked from my balcony to see a steady stream of trucks emanating from an excavation operation beyond the ferry terminal. Our doorman told us that a new apartment building was being planned which would have an underground parking garage. I walked over to that area to observe. I assumed these cinders were going to go to a toxic waste dump, but the trucks were heading for the Holland tunnel and into Manhattan. I thought this very odd.  I told this to Betty.  She daily took The Port Authority of New York and New Jersey (PATH) line under the Hudson which terminated at what had been the World Trade Center. She regularly watched the excavation and preparation of the foundation of the new World Trade Tower as she entered into the station. Betty observed trucks dumping a black material onto the rubble base of the excavated site. This was the very cinders from our fair city.

For the first time in my life, I had a chance to have a close up look at what old railroad cinders looked like. I could see they were a composite of things, not just ash, but also bits of grey stone. I also detected iron oxide as well. Cinders were universally used as ballast on any anthracite railroad and especially around steel mills. The stuff was free material. I had expected to use cinder ballast on my trackage.  Instead of just using the black cinder ballast, I mixed it with iron ore and larger sized pieces of grey ballast. My batches didn’t always match as the cinders would vary allot depending on what also got mixed into them at the time.

I worked merrily along for ten years. Then I ran into electrical problems. Unable to find the DCC support I needed, two years would pass before work resumed on the layout.

One day a friend came by and asked to see the layout. With an apology and a shrug, I took him downstairs. I was surprised how enthralled and enthusiastic he was.  He said, “What the hell if the engines don’t work, the scenery is more interesting than the trains!” This encouraged me enough to think of the layout as a big diorama. I would just shoot pictures and submit them to Walthers. So, I proceeded to finish off the scenery.

I had passing thoughts of joining the NMRA to get some help with the trains. Finally I did join. South Mountain Division (SMD) members helped resolved my DCC and track problems. Having shared stories associated with my layout, SMD members suggested an article for our Wheel Report. A few days later I fell and bruised my knee. Not being able to work on the layout, I decided to afflict you all with my story.

At present there are no significant operations possible on the first stage of this layout.  Hellfire Steel Co. and Brimstone Coke are complete. My plan is to extend things to the Damnation Coal mines (located in Faust, PA).  My railroad will continue on to Perdition a Great Lakes port for receiving iron ore. Once finished the Hellfire, Brimstone and Damnation will be the “Road to Perdition.” It is a road well-traveled.

Caboose Conundrum

The cabooses should be back in service in time for Don’s December operating session.

(Ron Polimeni)

by Ron Polimeni

When my friend Don Florwick first initiated TT/TO operations on his NYCS Pittsburgh & South Pennsylvania Railroad (P&SP), he needed cabooses. Models of NYCS’s 19000 series cabooses were the obvious choice. To that end, Don purchased 16 of the kits offered by Waterlevel Models for these cabooses. As building the Waterlevel kits would take time, in the interim, Don also purchased a pair of 19000 series NYC cabooses from Trix as well as a small fleet of bay window cabooses from Walthers.

The Walthers stand-in’s unfortunately were lettered for Conrail and consequently were bereft of end ladders and roof walks. They performed well, but the sight of a modern Conrail caboose bringing up the rear of a 1950’s era NYC consist had the effect of finger nails on a black board every time one passed me by during an operating session.

Learning of Don’s stash of Waterlevel kits, I offered to build them for him as he had enough on his plate maintaining a rather large layout to operational standards (which he does very well). I began by taking a single kit to examine with the intent of determining the best approach to gang building the fleet. I found however, that these kits were probably never intended as fleet equipment for operating sessions.

The Waterlevel NYC cabooses are high quality plastic craftsman style kits. The model company did their homework and the instructions are well written as well as informative, providing much background information on the NYC 19000 series wood cabooses. The kits themselves however, are a bear to assemble. As the picture (below) shows, the steps are constructed out of six tiny pieces that are nearly impossible to hold in proper relation to each other while applying glue. For sixteen cabooses this would require constructing a total of 64 step assemblies.

Since what Don needs are operational pieces, not contest pieces, we began looking for options. In the right hand corner of the pic is a set of steps from an Athearn “blue box” caboose kit. These steps, complete with end platform are a nearly perfect substitute for the steps in the kit. With the help of Jay Beckham we will be looking into having them 3D printed. The Waterlevel kits are therefore on hold for the time being.

As yard master for Somerset yard, switching the bay window Conrail cabooses when making or breaking up a coal extra was especially grating. To that end I offered to back date the cabooses. Don is in the process of realigning a section of mainline with the consequence of having to cancel Novembers operating session. This has allowed time to repaint and back date the Walthers bay window cabooses.

(Ron Polimeni)

The prototype for these Walthers bay window cabooses is most similar to Conrail as class N21. They are very nearly correct for NYC’s Lot 782, built in 1949 by Despatch Shops Incorporated. They have the correct bay window but the other windows should be square double pane rather than have the rounded corners with riveted aluminum trim. In the interest of simplicity and the need to have them back in service within a limited time period, Don elected to invoke modelers license and say the cabooses were purchased directly by the P&SP due to a shortage of NYC hacks.

(Ron Polimeni)

To that end, all I have to do is backdate them to a 1950’s appearance. Tichy Train Group came to the rescue with roof walks and friction bearing caboose trucks. Tichy has to be one of the best deals on the market for model railroaders. Their products are of the highest quality with some of the finest castings I’ve ever had the pleasure of working.   Plus their prices can’t be beat. A box of 10 trucks goes for 15.50 albeit with plastic wheels. The wheels however, are of the correct tread profile. The roof walks come three to a package for 5.95.

The Walthers cabooses came with very nice metal wheels. As can be seen in the photo, the wheels have been exchanged on the trucks with the metal wheels being installed in the Tichy frames and the Tichy wheels being placed in the roller bearing frames ( the pile in front of the cabooses). The third pic shows the roof of one of the cabooses with the file marks where the ribs have been filed down to accommodate the metal roof walk. Supports will be added at the ends of the roof with bits of styrene bent to shape and filed flat. The ladder walks are supported the same way with bits of styrene cut to shape. The ladders are gleanings from the scrap drawer where fortunately, I had just enough for the six cabooses.  However, scale ladder stock is available from several sources.

Once the roof details are completed the cars will be painted the standard NYC box car red with black roof. To avoid having to disassemble the car bodies, I decided to use Micro-Mark liquid masking film to cover the windows. This is a rubber like film that can be peeled off. Tedious to apply but much easier than disassembling a half dozen models that weren’t designed to be disassembled.

The cabooses should be back in service in time for Don’s December operating session. All he has to worry about now is having the mainline to Wheeling back in service by then.

As for the Waterline models, that’s another story for another time. Perhaps by the next installment of the Wheel Report I’ll managed to have the steps and end sills recreated via 3D printing and will be able to convey how I fared with that adventure.

Informal Operating Systems

I want to put in a good word about operating systems that have brought me many happy and informative moments.  Before we condemn these informal operating systems, we should be aware of their advantages and of those situations where their use might be appropriate.

Harvey Heyser III, clerk, NMRA South Mountain Division. (Tom Fedor)

by Harvey Heyser

Gentlemen’s Agreement and Mother, May I?

Introductory note – To my good friends Pete, Jane, Don, Bob, Steve, Ron, and Bill:  I realize that some of the following ideas disagree with thoughts you have expressed to me about prototype-based operation.  I thank you for graciously sharing your knowledge and for inviting me to your operating sessions.  However, I feel that the current focus on prototype-based systems may not work for all layouts, their owners, and train crews.  Less demanding operating systems may be the right approach for those intimidated by or stressed out by prototype-based systems.  Consequently, I feel that informal systems, though not well regarded in our hobby at this time, deserve to be acknowledged, talked about, and evaluated on their own merits.  The following is an attempt to do so.

Most model railroaders respect the more formal, prototype-based operating systems:  timetable/train order (TT/TO), track warrants, and centralized traffic control (CTC) for instance.  After all, those systems are modeled after the prototype procedures we attempt to replicate.  But what do you do if those systems result in stressful operating sessions for you and your crews?  There are less formal alternatives.  Many sessions I have participated in have used the informal systems described here.  I have enjoyed those sessions even though, among serious model railroaders, the procedures used do not enjoy the same level of respect as prototype-based systems. 

Recently, the SMD had a clinic presentation that categorized operations as either prototype-based or “fun run.”  While the latter term was certainly easy to understand, it was not particularly fair to anyone.  Prototype-based systems are also “fun.”  (If they were not, no one would want to participate in them.)  On the other hand, “fun run” sessions are not totally frivolous.  Categorizing informal systems negatively ignores their potential as stepping stones into the joys of operating and as opportunities to learn about the prototype.  Before we consign informal operating procedures to the trash bin of toy trains, it seems to me more useful to think of operating systems as falling on a continuum between prototype-based and “fun run” instead of fitting into one category or the other.  A system that starts out “fun run” can easily slide along the continuum towards more prototype-based when those involved feel better informed and more comfortable. 

This essay will examine two of the better known informal systems for managing the flow of traffic across a model railroad: gentlemen’s agreement and mother, may I?

Gentlemen’s agreement occurs when two or more train crews agree about how to resolve a conflict, such as three trains arriving in a town with only the main track and one siding not counting spurs. (The layout owner or dispatcher is not usually involved with the negotiations.)  If the crews are novices, they might decide to let the local finish switching before allowing the other two trains to come into town.  However, more experienced crews would consider the fact that the other two trains are likely more important (passenger trains or through freights, for instance) and would figure out a way to get the local in the clear so the other two trains could execute a pass (before the local gets back to work).  While the prototype would probably endeavor not to let this situation happen, it is a good example of how learning what the prototype does can result in a smoother operating session.  (By the way, trying to resolve a three-way meet by gentlemen’s agreement can get stressful when you have only two tracks.  Ballast conferences and brake clubs anyone?) 

Using gentlemen’s agreement places responsibility for resolving conflicts in many hands and encourages creativity from all participants. Bob Proctor handled mainline operations on his Western Antietam and Layabout using gentlemen’s agreement.  (His operators often accused him of sadism, but I think what he truly enjoyed was seeing the creative ways crews cooperated with each other.)  Resolving conflicts creatively can be very satisfying.  However, as seen by the three train example above, the solution dreamed up by the novices failed to take into account the priority of the trains involved. So, that solution, creative though it might have been, was the wrong solution.  Consequently, that situation became a learning opportunity reminding us of the railroad’s primary mission of moving passengers and freight in an efficient and timely basis by prioritizing trains.

Another opportunity to learn about the prototype arises when instructions are given to the train crews.  (Of course, you must first get the crews to read the instructions.)  I was party to a similar (four train) situation where the gentlemen’s agreement resulted in one local backing up to the previous town, one train holding on the main, one train moving forward, and the other local completing its work.  We were so proud of ourselves, but we had completely overlooked the fact that the local, which completed its work (the afternoon local), was supposed to pick up a cut of cars from the other (morning) local.  If we had read our train instructions, we could have avoided that unfortunate result.  Even informal operating systems require following instructions to run the trains effectively.

Experiencing challenging situations similar to those described above is one of the ways informal operating systems give us opportunities to learn about the prototype.  Experience is a powerful teacher.  (Why did the prototype have this rule?  Well, you have just experienced the chaos that can happen if they did not; that’s why.)

Use of gentlemen’s agreement with a common sense understanding of how a railroad operates and with knowledge of our train’s operating instructions can be an effective way to run a model railroad.  (A good set of nine basic, common sense rules for operating can be found in Mat Thompson’s “Mark Me Up” column in the summer 2016 issue of the Potomac Flyer, the Potomac Division’s newsletter.)

Mother, may I? is a system of obtaining permission to move your train from one person, usually the layout owner or a designated “dispatcher.”  Mother, may I? is not really a fair name for this system, since mothers (of crew members) are rarely the designated permission givers.  The name might derive from a problem frequently encountered.  With every crew wanting permission from a single person, mother, may I? can get quite hectic.  Sessions can easily get out of hand and resemble a bunch of children squabbling for their mother’s attention – not what we want in a relaxed operating experience.  Regardless, where train crews request permission to move from a single person, responsibility for resolving conflicts between trains rests in that person’s hands.

Mother, may I? is frequently spoken of with disdain.  Before we condemn it, we should consider its similarities with both track warrant and CTC systems – prototype-based systems which also place sole responsibility for permission to move in the hands of a single person – the dispatcher.  Clearly because of their wide use, these systems demonstrate that the prototype has had a great deal of experience making single person responsibility work.  (Perhaps, a better, more railroady name for mother, may I? might be dispatcher, may I?)

Model railroaders have also used systems similar to mother, may I?  For instance, in the past, DC block control often required calling the dispatcher for block assignments allowing a train to proceed.  More recently, roving dispatcher systems using verbal authorization have been used successfully on simpler, more compact layouts.  With this system, the roving dispatcher makes decisions based on his observations of the current situation from within the layout room.  Dave Moltrup’s Beaver Falls and Shenango (aka Moltrup Steel) operates using a roving dispatcher system.

A mother, may I? system can serve as a stepping stone to more prototype-based systems like track warrants or fill-in the blank train order systems (such as the one Tony Koester used for a while on his Allegheny Midland).  In fact, the problems encountered with it may encourage adopting one of the prototype-based systems.

Disadvantages of these informal operating systems:

  1. Not prototypical – a common complaint.
  2. Not suited for complex, high traffic layouts. (Consider TT/TO)
  3. Requires creative thought and consideration from the layout owner to set up the operating system.  Crews will need good, clear instructions.The challenge of coordinating crew efforts is still present whether the system is formal or informal.
  4. Can get quite chaotic.

Advantages to these informal operating systems:

  1. Low intimidation factor because there is much less to learn and put into practice.
  2. Simplicity: less paperwork,fewer reporting requirements (minimal O.S.-ing), and less dependence on time.
  3. Stepping stone to more prototypically based systems.
  4. Relaxing. 
  5. Less administrative oversight during the session. (Everyone, including the layout owner, gets to run a train.)
  6. Operations come naturally to crews.  (I’ve noted that when stressed, crews often fall into using informal procedures regardless of the operating system.   Crews working at the same station agree to who gets to work first; calling for help from the owner or dispatcher when the rules in place don’t give enough direction to address a problem.)
  7. Gives crew members (especially beginners) firsthand experience of the challenges encountered in coordinating the work of countless people needed to keep trains moving.

Conditions under which these informal operating systems might be appropriate:

  1. Smaller and simpler layouts where it is easy to get an overall idea of the status of operations at any given time.
  2. Layouts where only one or two trains run at a given time.
  3. Layouts with crews who are well acquainted with the layout.
  4. Layouts with good sets of instructions and crews willing to read those instructions (a script for their train, for instance).
  5. Layouts where the owner wants to run trains also.
  6. Layouts that feature switching (not much mainline traffic and few potential conflicts between trains).

Potentially these informal operating systems offer not only an easy introduction to operating but also for the system to become more prototypical while continuing to offer relaxing, enjoyable operating experiences.  Three things are necessary for that to happen. First, a commitment to learn more about how the prototype runs trains. Second, a willingness to set up a trial and error process. And third, a continuing effort to implement what is learned both from the prototype and by trial and error.

In conclusion, I want to put in a good word about operating systems that have brought me many happy and informative moments.  Before we condemn these informal operating systems, we should be aware of their advantages and of those situations where their use might be appropriate.  We also should be aware that informal systems do have some similarities to prototype practices.

While informal systems are not currently regarded highly in our hobby, I hope to foster tolerance for those modelers who prefer to operate that way.  While they might not be doing what we prefer, they may be having just as much fun as we are.  Furthermore, exposure to the joys of operations may lead them to learn more about prototype practices and to adopt more of those practices for their own operations (no encouragement from the model railroad police necessary).

Hellfire, Brimstone, & Damnation RR

Nonetheless I begged to see the activities down below. My uncle said, “You don’t want to go down there! There is nothing down there but hellfire, brimstone and damnation.” Yet this picture became etched indelibly on my mind thereafter.

 

Hellfire, Brimstone, & Damnation RR. “I think that a layout should tell a story.” (Robert Law)

by Robert Law

Everyone’s layout is an expression of one’s experiences and association with railroads.   I believe mine has taken a more circuitous path than others.  For me it begins when I was a young boy of about seven. My mother and I went to visit an uncle, a retired steel worker who lived on the outskirts of McKeesport, PA.  The single lane dirt road that led to his house offered an aerial view of the steel mills below. There was a steep embankment on one side with the old-fashioned post and cable guard rail to prevent cars from falling below. I could see the belching smoke of the steel mills with trains shuttling about here and there hauling odd looking freight cars. 

When we arrived, I begged to see what was happening below but was scolded and refused.  I felt trapped inside the house having to listen to my mother’s and uncle’s boring conversation.  Fortunately, they were in the kitchen and ever so quietly I slipped into the living room and then out the door.  I went across the road and sat on the cable watching the activities below.  After about 20 minutes, my mother and uncle came out to find me and give me a scolding.  Nonetheless I begged to see the activities down below.  My uncle said, “You don’t want to go down there! There is nothing down there but hellfire, brimstone and damnation.”  Yet this picture became etched indelibly on my mind thereafter. 

Some 15 years later at college I met Betty, the girl who would become my wife.  She also enjoyed trains.  When we married we went to see the Cass Mountain Railroad.  It was at this time that I became more fascinated with unusual steam locomotives.

Much later still, Betty decided she wanted to leave her career as a special education teacher   and study to become an electric power engineer.  Her first job was with Bechtel Power, which was then in Gaithersburg, MD, causing us to move from our home in upstate New York. As she prepared for her engineering licensing exam I ventured out so I wouldn’t disturb her. Curiosity took me to see the National Capital Trolley Museum.  Meeting with the volunteer staff there, I told them that I had a previous business of restoring old houses.  They encouraged me to work in the trolley shop and so I dedicated over three years part time to restoring an old New York City 3rd Avenue Trolley

When Bechtel moved to Frederick, MD, so did we.  We started investigating our surroundings and went to the B&O Museum where I got to see and climb around some camelback locomotives.  This is a truly ludicrous locomotive.  Because of the wide Wooten firebox, the engineer is consigned to a little compartment straddling the boiler.  The fireman is left to the acrobatics of having to balance himself on two bouncing and shifting footplates while tending the fire. The cab is open to the elements more than other locomotives and for the engineer and fireman to communicate with each other, they must use a “speaking tube.”

We also went to see the Strasburg Railroad and the Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania.  There we not only encountered another camelback but also a GG1.  I had seen a few pictures of these from time to time but knew little of them.  I always admired the streamline appearance of the dark green and gold pinstripe livery. Betty quite naturally took to them as it was an electric locomotive.

When the Enron scandal struck, Bechtel lost most of its contracts for power plants.  Betty, being a junior engineer, was soon laid off.  In the recession that followed, she had some trouble finding work but at last landed a position with Con Edison in New York City.  We were loth to give up our townhouse in Frederick, MD because I had done so much work on it and we also thought Frederick would be a good place to retire.  With the willingness of our neighbors to look in on our place, we located an apartment right on the banks of the Hudson River in Jersey City, NJ that overlooked most of Manhattan.  It also overlooked the old Erie Lackawanna ferry terminal which was actively being restored at the time. 

Every month or so we would drive back to Frederick to look in on our townhouse and take care of things, always passing the Roadside America attraction.  Eventually we made time to drop in. This experience caused me to consider taking up model railroading.  I knew little of the hobby even though I had my car serviced at a garage where the waiting area had a stack of old magazines that included Classic Trains and Model Railroader. Those magazines gave me some conception of what was possible.

I was also faced with a dilemma.  As a young man I had suffered an injury to my hip.  With hip implant surgery I recovered and was able to do most things, including restoring old Victorian houses.  But with age, I started losing mobility.  By the time we moved to New York City it was getting harder for me to get around. I often had to resort to a cane.  We thought it would be best if I would take care of all the chores and shopping during the week so we could enjoy all the sights and entertainments of the city on weekends.  Nonetheless, this left me with much time on my hands which I tried to fill by reading history books.  Once I became bitten by the model railroad bug, I thought I could do the modeling in our apartment, box them up and then bring them back to our townhouse in Frederick to eventually put on a layout.  This I did on a tiny dinning table we had at the apartment which every late afternoon I would clean off for dinner.

I went to a hobby shop and got a Walthers catalog, magazines, and some how-to books, including John Pryke’s Building City Scenery for Your Model Railroad. As soon as I saw this a modeling concept began to slowly develop in my mind: a steel mill town in Pennsylvania that would have an electrified portion of the Pennsylvania Railroad passing through a steel manufacturing city with an anthracite railroad servicing the mills not unlike Bethlehem, PA.  My uncle’s comment about Hellfire, Brimstone and Damnation some 60 years prior was reborn as my model railroad.

Conceiving of a model railroad and delivering it now presented many challenges.  A townhouse does not have much basement space and we had already turned it into a combination office, library and entertainment room. With some ingenuity we converted a guest bed room into an office for Betty.  Bookcases were moved to create a wall.  This then left me with an area of about 19 by 11 feet. Not a lot of space, but enough for a respectable layout.

Next came the challenge of how to work in all the catenary and cables required for GG1’s.  I knew that modeling this would require a lot of work, possibly consuming too much time from getting the rest of the layout done.  I came up with the idea of building the city on a platform above the catenary system which could serve as a staging for these trains to appear and reappear. Thus, only a simple loop of track would be necessary for the GG1’s to play their part. To protect the pantographs as they went through under the city, Betty came up with a solution to use fasten discarded engineering drawings that had been printed on large sheets of plastic under the platform,  allowing the pantographs to slip underneath.     

I also had only built a few models as a kid.  All my life had been spent in building the macro not the micro. I decided to test my modeling skills by building the blast furnace kit first.  I figured if I could build that, I could build anything.  This was a challenge trying to build this on our tiny dining table at the New Jersey apartment.  Nonetheless, the parts held together enough for me to be able to transfer the model each evening to a small cabinet top a few feet away.

I chose the Fall of 1937 for the setting of my layout for several reasons.  First it was the “depression within the Great Depression.” This was so called because as the New Deal programs began to cause a recovery in the economy, Roosevelt desired to do some budget cutting.  This resulted in a recessionary economy which did not recover until the Lend-Lease policy started in 1939.

I think that a layout should tell a story.  The Great Depression opens a panorama of possible stories to be told in miniature scenes which I love to do: including hobo jungles, shanty towns, red light districts and tenement life. The New Deal programs hired photographers to go forth into the nation and record daily life in the 1930’s.  This provided me with all sorts of prototypes to work from especially industrial scenes.  It was also the point when the Pennsylvania Railroad was completing the electrification for the GG1. Dating a layout to a fairly specific date helps to eliminate anachronisms. I chose the fall season because it presents many interesting scenic possibilities and adds color to the depressing rust and grimy black of industry.

[This is the first part in a short series from Bob describing the history and construction of his layout. To read part 2 click HERE. -Ed.]