A little model railroad fiction here to sum up my Altoona N Scale weekend experience. I had a great time, and I'm looking forward to next year!
Dawn came to the sleepy little hamlet of Hickory, Ohio this past Saturday. The feed and seed was bagging customers' orders for their pigs and cattle, and the flour mill was quiet except for the pigeons roosting near the loading shoots. Talk at the Dew Drop Inn was about how Hickory played their 8-man team against the Wren Warriors during last night's high school football game. It wasn't the best debut for the local squad, and the conversation quickly switched to talk about how well those kids did in the county fair last month, at least to preserve some family pride for the barflies.
Wes, the tower man, clerk, track maintainer, and part-time conductor for the Lake Shore Central shortline, was enjoying an early lunch of a thick greasy cheeseburger through a haze of cigarette smoke and light banter. A former Erie Lackawanna man he elected to stay close to home after the Conrail merger. He could recall when he first started out hooping up orders to giant Erie Pacifics closing in on him at 70 mph with a troop train. His hands still gently quiver at the memory of the hammer-blasting sound those drivers made smashing across the diamond.
Those days seemed to be a distant memory. Now the eastbound main for the EL had been torn up by Conrail. The Erie Western now ran the tracks and occasionally dropped Chessie System hoppers from Lima for the LSC during the fall rush. Wes walked back to the depot after his meal to sort the week's paperwork and hoped to join his brother for some fishing at the local lake that afternoon. The last waybill was being typed up when his concentration was broken by the telephone. It was the Conrail Toledo dispatcher. A derailment had blocked all traffic near Stryker and a few trains were being diverted to the Erie Western due to the ex-Pennsy Ft. Wayne line that was maxed at capacity.
After hanging up, he ran past the Apple Grove trailer park and up to HK tower. Opening the door, the announcer's bell made a stern clanging to alert him that there was already a train on the circuit. He rang up the poor clerk who got called in at Ohio City on the Erie Western and cleared the block with him. Soon the the sound of heavy steam exhaust echoed off the feed and seed, odd Wes thought for 1980s, but excursion fan trips were still in their barnstorming days.
Of course, this was no mere excursion, but a Big Boy storming through with a nearly mile-long reefer train in tow. Wes couldn't believe his eyes and checked his forehead to see if he was suffering from some sudden fever. The caboose rattled across the diamond with its markers quickly receding into the distance. The phone rang again from the EW yard office in Huntington, Ind. "Are you clear for a passenger train?" Asked the hoarse voice. "I guess" replied a quizzical Wes. How was anything supposed to make good time on these weed-infested tracks was beyond him.
Again the announcer bell called for his attention to the train on the circuit. He cleared the signal and looked out the window to see the orange and silver of the California Zephyer sauntering between the semaphores that guarded the LSC branch. The smell of grilled salmon in the passing dining car seemed more appetizing than anything the Dew Drop could fix up.
The parade of trains continued on all afternoon long. Paint schemes he fondly remembered and locomotive not even listed yet in the GE catalog clamored past his post. His legs grew tired from running up and down the stairs delivering orders and lining movements on the interlocking machine. He was relieved to see that LSC chief mechanic and engineer Charlie Kiedrowski, had the railroad's C420 chugging into the junction with the transfer train in tow. The Precision geep had failed in Lima and it was up to ALCO to save the day.
Wes' eyes burned a little in the tower as the ALCO’s smoke tinged the evening sky. Exhausted, he plopped into the operator's chair and dozed off. When he had awoken again, he found himself on a green wool recliner in his living room, with an old issue of Railroad magazine holding onto the armrest. It was all a dream. My goodness, he thought, I've got to lay off of those cheeseburgers.
