|
The world of railroading has interested me from my childhood. My younger brother and I inherited our love for trains from our father, Rev. Dr. R. D. Leonard, a Methodist minister and college professor. While other dads took their boys camping or to baseball games or museums, our dad took us on train-watching expeditions — to roundhouses, yards, shops, passenger stations or just trackside along busy lines. Most of these early trips involved Dad's favorite railroad, the New York Central. Our grandfather, Don M. Leonard, had been an official of the Boston & Albany, part of the New York Central System.
So railroads were our "thing" while growing up; we played, dreamed and talked trains. Sometimes, during church services while Dad was preaching, my brother and I would amuse ourselves by drawing pictures of steam engines with paper and pencils Mother thoughtfully provided. Walking home from junior high school in Adrian, Michigan, I would pause to watch the switching movements of the Detroit, Toledo & Ironton local freight on the Tecumseh branch, headed by a spic-and-span 2-8-0 with chromium-plated numbers below the cab window. I collected railroad passenger timetables, coaxing them from taciturn station agents at every opportunity and even sending for them — with 1-cent and 2-cent post cards — from passenger traffic departments of railroads, large and small, across the continent.
I wish I had been able to record on film some early, memorable scenes of railroad activity during the steam era. Among my first memories are triple-heading Canadian Pacific and Boston & Maine power on the joint line north of St. Johnsbury, Vermont. After a move to Michigan I witnessed New York Central Consolidations with idler flat cars switching the railroad ferry at Mackinaw City. We happened to be there on V-J Day, August 14, 1945, and heard all the locomotives in the joint NYC-Pennsylvania roundhouse blowing their whistles in celebration. A visit to the NYC's Jackson, Michigan shops arranged by an engineer friend was the occasion for my first ride in a steam locomotive, H10b No. 2345. I was invited to turn some kind of crank on the backhead — a feat I could not accomplish at age seven. Perhaps that was the time I began to have second thoughts about my early career choice of locomotive engineer!
After we had moved to southeastern Michigan I became familiar with vestibule-cabbed Wabash 4-8-4s and 4-8-2s spiriting freight trains through rural countryside in Lenawee County. One day Dad drove us boys to Delta, Ohio, on the NYC main line, where we parked by the station and watched the parade of speedy east-west limiteds on this stretch of tangent track, 68.5 miles west of Toledo without a curve. There is nothing in my memory to equal the sight and sound of those onrushing Hudsons and Mohawks — whistle wailing, rods flailing, smoke trailing low over the cars.
Yes, I wish I had a photographic record of all those memories. Dad, for some reason, was not an avid photographer of trains. But, as I reached my teen years in the early 1950s, I became acutely aware that we were living in the twilight of steam power — and steam locomotives were my primary railroad interest. I borrowed the old Kodak Hawkeye folding cartridge camera that Dad had bought for $3.00 during the Depression, managed to scrounge a few rolls of No. 116 film, and set out for trackside in the little Michigan town of Bellevue on the Grand Trunk Western's Chicago-to-Port Huron main line where my father was then serving as the Methodist minister.
|