Birmingham, Alabama is a railroad
town. Not because it has railroads, as do many other cities; but
rather it exists because of railroads. After the Civil War, the
area that would be Birmingham was mountains, forest, and streams. But
when two railroads were built that intersected in that spot, giving access to
the one place on earth where all the ingredients for making steel (iron ore,
coke, and limestone) occur together, a city erupted with unprecedented
suddenness.
The heyday of
the railroads was past when I moved there as a boy. The beautiful
passenger station had been demolished, and the decline of industry was mirrored
by the decline in freight rail. But people remembered! And there
was a movement to keep steam engines rolling to remind a new generation of the
marvel of machinery that amazed and enchanted previous generations.
Because
Birmingham had one of the few locomotive works that could still service
the beasts, many of the locomotives found their way there, and while in
town, they pulled excursion trains. So for about a dozen years coinciding
perfectly with my age and interest, there was a series of opportunities to ride
behind beautiful, powerful steam locomotives that had been removed from
every other type of service.
The 4501, a
(freight) 2-8-2 Mikado that had been painted in Southern Railway livery to
resemble a passenger locomotive; the 4449, a Pacific Daylight that in 1976
pulled the commemorative "Freedom Train" to Birmingham; the Royal
Canadian Pacific that came south; and the elegant Norfolk and Western J-Class
611 were the highlights of that series.
Increasing maintenance costs and resurgent traffic for freight on the dwindling rail network ended that era, and most of these glorious machines went into mothballs and museums. But recently, the Virginia Transportation Museum and the Norfolk and Southern, a conglomerate of two great railways of the past, with the help of many an eager rail fan, refurbished and reactivated the 611.
 |
| A photo I took of the Royal Canadian Pacific pulling an excursion train near Leeds, AL, in November 1981. |
 |
| A painting of the Norfolk & Western J-Class 611, rendered from one of the photographs I took in the early 1980's. She is crossing a trestle just outside Chattanooga, TN. |
Now, I had
last seen this shining beauty in the early 1980's, by which time I had replaced
riding the excursion trains with "chasing" them with my
friends Mary, Allan, and Lisa. We were all interested in photography at a
time when that involved film and darkrooms with chemicals, and freshly equipped
with drivers licenses and well as forbearing parents. It was
our ideal way of having fun together to pile into a car and tear
across the Alabama countryside hoping to catch the Perfect Photo of a
galloping steam locomotive. The Birmingham Train Chasing Association
was born! We even printed up shirts.
So, when the
restored N&W 611 was out on excursion in Northern Virginia recently, I
finished the Masses here, braved weekend beltway traffic, and used modern
GPS technology and a camera phone to set out into the countryside and
chase me some train.
At the first
remote crossing, I found a small, cordial group waiting with cameras and
tripods, and I knew I was in the right place. The pleasant
conversation yielded to analysis as we first heard the distant steam whistle,
then ceased altogether when one spotter announced "Headlight!"
Because the new video technology records sound, these thoughtful
fellows didn't want to spoil anyone's recording. Alternatively, we may
have all just fallen speechless, as the passing beauty was a marvel to behold:
The surge of
excitement and delight that followed as we all rushed back to our
vehicles and set off in happy pursuit of the quarry brought me back to those
days with Mary, Allan, and Lisa. I missed having their help
"spotting" -- though I often caught glimpses of the plumes of smoke
and steam above the trees. Once I was ahead of her again, my second site
to wait by the tracks was mobbed with folks less serious -- and less
considerate -- than my first fellows.
I was luckier
on my third stop. After a few failed attempts to find a photogenic and accessible
setting, I stumbled into one where I was less then a hundred yards
from a small group of rail fans, but when the train came through, there
was nobody else in view.
Just like old times!
Satisfied, I headed back toward home and more mundane traffic
frustrations. I stopped at a roadside stand to pick up some rhubarb
for a pie, refilled my tank, and tuned into the end of the
(maddening) Nats game. I had dinner at the home of some Virginia friends,
and shared my pictures. They nodded and smiled.
I discerned that it would be better to wait for some other time to
tell them about the Birmingham Train Chasing Association.
Monsignor Smith
Monsignor Smith
P. S. Nowhere else but Crudup!
