FATHER'S DAY
Today is Father's day 1988 as I write this. Many thoughts, reflections and memories can come flooding back across the conscious mind at
a time like this. Inevitably in my own personality - the subject of
locomotives - trains - railroads and railroad people are never far from
my "tangible" memory and consciousness.
Fathers do set the tempo - either positively or negatively - for
their offspring. Some reflections are much more positive than others in
recalling happier times of yore. Lucky - indeed - is the youngster who
grows up with a strong bond of affection with - and for - his Dad. Cars
- sports - hunting - fishing - nature study - astronomy - mechanical
and/or electrical things - mysteries - family - faith - all of these and
many more, too, can be the focus points between dads and their progeny.
Although my Dad is no longer with us "in the flesh" - nevertheless he
has left me indelibly marked and permanently molded with a propensity for
infatuation of and an intense interest in STEAM LOCOMOTIVES!!! I'll
never escape nor outgrow it!! (And I'm grateful!!).
In my home town of Kinston, North Carolina and in the time of some
of my most formative years -ages 5-6-7- and on up into my teenage years,
the sleepy agricultural coastal plain section of eastern North Carolina-
was not particularly blest with "mainline" railroading. I had to be
content with a 98 mile second class short line running east-west from
Goldsboro to the Atlantic coast towns of Morehead City and Beaufort.
Up until it's insolvency in 1932 the "original" Norfolk Southern
Railroad held forth only to be replaced by the State of North Carolina's
Atlantic & North Carolina until about 1939. At that time a Mr.
H.P. Edwards of Sanford, N. C. - who was a high official with the owner
and operator of another short line - Aberdeen & Rockfish - between
Fayetteville and Aberdeen - formed the Atlantic & East Carolina Railroad
which then leased the property and took over from the state.
During the early periods of which my memory can still reach, I can
still recall the two passenger trains each day. East bound each morning
at 8:05AM number 2 was due in from Goldsboro, while at 6:35PM each
evening number 5 ran west as the "other side". All of our mail as well
as that for several towns and counties around us came and went on those
two train schedules. Kinston seemed to be a pretty important point in
regard to the US mail service for our area.
The consist always included an RPO (Railway Post Office) car, a
baggage/express combination car, and two - sometimes three - coaches.
They were all tugged along by a trim little 1900 version of a Pittsburgh
Works 4-4-0, an "American" type. It was numbered number 45 - later
number 50 - during Norfolk Southern days but was redubbed as number 17
by Mr Edwards' Atlantic and East Carolina.
From the standpoint of the town of Kinston the "running" of those
two passenger trains were important events in the life of Kinston.
Coming as it did about the time the stores uptown opened and the kids
were on their way to school and - in season - the tobacco market sales
commenced - number 2 was like a prompt for everybody. Likewise as old
number 5 left town in the evening it was symbolic of a cue for the
community to settle down now from serious business activities and
resort to other interests and evening recreations.
The main line through the "city" (about 18000 population) had to
"endure" the entire length of the town. Some places the track was
bordered for several blocks by a parallel street on either side (Peyton
and Atlantic Avenues). But at other places the line cut diagonally
across entire city blocks and always at grade crossings.
I can still see in my mind's eye that wonderful old black flagman in his blue serge uniform coat and cap as he proudly rode the
right front step on old 17's pilot (cowcatcher - to us kids) while the
engineer literally crept along at a walking pace. This faithful old
flagman would alight to the ground at each of a dozen or so street
crossings in order to flag the automobile and pedestrian traffic.
Finally as the western "reaches" of our city were attained - somewhere
just past Queen Street - he would stand aside as the engine crept past
him and then he would swing up onto an open vestibule step a car or two
to the rear. Now the hogger (engineer) finally could "open her up" a
little bit. At that point they'd have their sights set on Hines Junction, Falling Creek, La Grange, Best's Station, Goldsboro Yard, and
finally Goldsboro's Union Station!! That would be all of 26.8 miles
away!! Wonderful!! And for an on time arrival seventy minutes later!!
Fantastic!! Can you imagine such speed? But at least the train was
reliable!!
But as a preschooler about 1928-1929 and while Dad could still
afford a family automobile (the 1930's depression hadn't quite hit
America yet) he introduced me to what is now known as "pacing" a train.
On evenings when Dad didn't have to work late at the hardware store (B W
Cannady's at the corner of Gordon and Queen Streets) he would take me
down to Peyton Avenue - which paralleled the track headed west, and would
loaf along until number 45 pulling number 5 came alongside. Then he
would pick up the tempo - right along with the engine. Eight, ten,
twelve then fifteen miles an hour we would pace right alongside the old
"teakettle" as she picked up speed. The engine's stack would perk up a
little and her sound would go from a "shuff shuff shuff shuff" to
something more like "chomph chomph chomph chomph". It always made my
pulse quicken and the goose bumps to appear to hear the stack respond to
the engineer's action when he tugged out a little more on the throttle!!
It still does today!! Listen to NKP 765 some time and see if you don't
get the same reaction. It's inevitable for me and I'll bet it is for
you, too.
Block by block we'd follow her - Heritage Street - Mitchell
Street - College Street - Pollock Street and finally at Rhem Street we
ran out of pavement but we continued on for another ten blocks on the
dirt roadbed of Peyton Avenue extension. Now 20 - now 25 mph - continuing on out that "washboard" of a street, I vividly recall staring
fixedly at old 45's running gear. Even though her "monkey motion" (valve
gear) was Stephenson type which was set between the engine's main frame
members, I'd try to see all the detail I could. Drivers - crosshead
- piston rod and main and side rods - occasionally I'd switch my gaze to
the fireman in the cab as his face glowed in the reflected light coming
from the open firebox door when he continued to stoke the old gal's
grate - coal scoop in hand. (I could see him through the gangway between
the cab and the tender). The stack would turn a little blacker while he
was putting in more West Virginia black diamonds. And the smell of that
sulphur smoke left a lasting impression on me. All the while I'm sure
that my teeth were being jarred out of my skull - bouncing and bounding
along on that corduroy road surface, but I really can't recall that
part. I was too entranced!! I was absolutely thrilled by it all!!!
Nearing the city's municipal steam electric power plant (the "light
plant" Dad called it in those days) Peyton Avenue extension came to an
end and so Dad would have to slow down and then stop until the train
rattled past. Then he'd pull across that last crossing before returning
home along Atlantic Avenue on the other side of the track from Peyton
Avenue. In that last moment I could only watch longingly after those
receding red marker lanterns wagging along on the back corners of the
rear coach while the train waddled along on its way west - and all the
while I'd be listening intently for number 45's whistle to blow for the
main highway crossing (US 70) in the distance.
God! I can even hear it now!!
Wonderful memories!!!
I'm sure Dad knew!!
Thanks, Dad!!!!!
You really set me up- FOR LIFE!!!!!!
