[N&W] April in Lynchburg

[nw-mailing-list at nwhs.org]

[Bob Moore writes:]

This past weekend was my first look at the train in Lynchburg's
Rivermont Park. We saw that poor little Virginian wooden caboose that,
like the big C&O ALCO steam locomotive & Southern coach (a look inside
this tarnished jewel was like visiting the Titanic at the bottom of the
ocean!) it was coupled to, are now among the long-neglected toys left in
Lynchburg's attic of memories. Eventually, they'll fall apart from neglect
& abuse & disappear on a trash truck. No one will miss them until someone
asks, "Hey, that train that used to be in City Park, wonder what happened
to it?"
   I thought of the mighty C&O engine #2700, resting forlornly on an
Ohio side track far from her St. Albans, WV home & the school children who
gave their lunch money to save her a generation ago. What would they think
now?
   A side trip to Brookneal was a pleasant surprise, the old freight
house, bought by a local oil supplier, is in good shape. He wants to
restore the outside of the 1920's vintage wood structure that was part of
a fair-sized complex in its heyday. He also owns two old store buildings
dating to about the same era & has tried to keep them up.
   Capped off the day with dinner at Bedford's Liberty Station, a
converted N&W passenger station.  The place is just what the name implies,
a nice restaurant inside an old train station & they didn't miss the
connection on the decor one bit. It's loaded with pictures, lanterns &
such. It's quite a contrast from the Virginian station at Roanoke.
       The Virginian's been a memory for over 40 years now & the 95 year
old yellow-brick Roanoke passenger station with its distinctive sweeping,
high peaked red tile roof & generously overhanging eaves is one of the few
reminders left. Like an old dowager who has fallen on hard times, her
Victorian dignity resists the repeated assaults of time & weather. The
feed store that occupies it now apparently lacks either the funds or the
desire to maintain it. It's only a matter of time.
   West on 460 almost to Elliston, there's a back road (VA 603) into
Blacksburg that plays tag with the VGN mainline as it ascends the eastern
slope of the Blue Ridge. There was a shiny stillness in the air this day
that found me pausing at a grade crossing to listen for the high-pitched
call of a whistle & the distant panting of a steam locomotive making her
run for the hill.
   But this is 2000, dammit. The big steel dinosaurs rust where they
stand. For a time, they were the center of life in railroad towns across
the land, watches were set by their whistles heralding the arrival of
another train "on the advertised"  Lovingly shopped one last time by the
remnants of a disappearing generation of steam mechanics as their final
gift to lucky on-line communities that grew up with the railroad, they
were first gratefully received with great fanfare & celebration, but now
they've have lost their luster.   Their rusted ugliness revealed by
faded, peeling paint, they await an end undeserved. Uncared for, unloved,
unable to defend themselves, their bones are picked clean by souvenir
hunters, vandals have punched out their lights & windows, rowdies bounce
beer cans off these once-bright behomoths that now silently stand
bleeding, battered, bruised & beaten by the elements & worse, by people
who possess neither the pride nor the decency to care.
   A lucky few are in museums cared for by low-paid staff & no-paid
volunteers. Their reward often manifests itself in the wondering gaze of a
six-year old whose awe is expressed simply as, "Wow!" (doesn't get more
eloquent than that, does it?). The next question is inevitable.
   "Can I see it run?"
   Somehow the explanations of it being too old aren't enough, & the
issues of railroad's profits, losses & mergers, insurance liabilities,
etc. too complicated. Sure, there are a few tourist railroads, miles &
miles away from the here & now.
   May 6th marks the 50th Anniversary of the N&W #611. Sole survivor of
a magnificent race of 14 streamlined steeds, the Class J 4-8-4
locomotives proudly held the point on The Powhatan Arrow, The Pocahontas &
The Cavalier between Norfolk & Cincinnati, as well as the Tennesseean down
to Bristol. She's an engineering marvel representing the farthest
development of steam locomotive technology. When the diesels bumped them
off the passenger runs, these black beauties added a touch of class to the
N&W freight schedule, the likes of which hasn't been seen since.
   Restored, she roamed the Norfolk Southern System in excursion
service for 10 years. And the old girl still "had it", turning heads
everywhere she went as her steamboat whistle cooed seductively to
oldtimers & youngsters alike. Then it happened. The program abruptly ended
with closing of Birmingham Shops, the only operating steam locomotive
maintenance facility east of the Mississippi. The equipment was sold.
   Now the only way you'll see the "J" run is on video tape. And that's
like watching somebody else eat your favorite dessert. Sure you can see it
& you can hear it - but you can't taste the moment: the smell of coal
smoke, the ground shaking from the pounding of the big drive wheels, the
thumping of the air pumps, the smooth, unusually quiet motion of the rods
& valve gear, the steam that blows out the cylinder cocks & surrounds you
in a cloud & that thump that bounces off the inside your chest when the
steam first shoots skyward out the stack with a gigantic "WHOOOFF! -
WHOOOFF! - WHOOOFF!". This Lady's talking to you & you better pay
attention!
   Seeing #611 cold & silent in the shed at the Virginia Museum of
Transportation, is like being at a wake. People stand on the platform,
viewing her silent form & speak in low voices:
   "I remember her steaming into Radford....."
   "You ever see #611 high-stepping along New River outta Bluefield?"
   "Saw her leave Williamson with "The Arrow" back in '55 (or was it
'56?)....
   "How 'bout the time #611 & #1218 went up Christiansburg Mountain?
Now there was a sight....."
   "Gawd! What I'd give to see her run again!"
   You don't have enough, pal. Nobody does.