or foamer(an explanation right below), this photograph is huge. It's a train, so go ahead and get that big yawn out of the way.
Yet for those who drool, and foam at the mouth - foamer - at the sight of unusual pieces of railroadiana, there is tons of history in this bucolic setting, and aboard this conveyance. And, yes, "foamer" is a real word in the world of railfanning. While not a foamer myself, I confess to lingering along the margins of foamer-ness. I have trembled and twitched at the sight, sound, smell, and feel of a steam locomotive many times over the years. Those are not steam locomotives.
Yet for those who drool, and foam at the mouth - foamer - at the sight of unusual pieces of railroadiana, there is tons of history in this bucolic setting, and aboard this conveyance. And, yes, "foamer" is a real word in the world of railfanning. While not a foamer myself, I confess to lingering along the margins of foamer-ness. I have trembled and twitched at the sight, sound, smell, and feel of a steam locomotive many times over the years. Those are not steam locomotives.
It was many of those years ago when this picture was taken. Here is where a little weirdness enters, where a stretch is necessary, for what I am about to say cannot be proven by me.
To be sure, I did not take this photograph. It does not belong to me, while at the same time I might have some investment in it. The reason? See, I'm damned near certain that's me you see leaning from the train as the train itself leans into that curve. I found this photograph on the net. It was a random discovery. At first glance I honestly thought, "Holy God, that's me and Perkins on that trip back in 1974!"
Upon enlarging as best as can be done, yep, I do believe it's us. I'm to the right, camera at my face. "Perk" is immediately behind and to my left. Nuts as it sounds, the camera strap around my neck is recognizable, I remember it well. They we are, frozen in time by the lens of some unknown riding the same train we were in 1974. It's a good shot at that.
It wouldn't shock me to find out that the photographer was a little POed that we popped up in the shot. It's likely a better shot than came from my camera that day. We'll never know, because I made one dumbass beginner's mistake at the end of the trip; I opened the camera back before rewinding the film, destroying 36 exposures of Kodachrome which should have captured a marvelous day. Ordinarily, I'd burn several rolls of film on a trip like that. Money was a little thin. It was that radio job. One roll was about all the wallet would allow.
that train. A better look at those deisel locomotives is to the left. These units were so beloved by railfans that one of railfanning's biggest names, Lucius Beebe, once proclaimed that the PA-1 held the unique title of "Honorary Steam Locomotive."Beebe was a feisty bugger. Consider this quote of his, "If anything is worth doing it is worth doing in style, and on your own terms, and nobody Goddamned elses!"
So it was that the D&H PA-1 was more of a rumor to me before seeing one in person. Having the opportunity to actually ride behind a trio of them(the D&H owned four, one was always in back-up status)was really a dream come true. I honestly couldn't sleep the night before that first trip.
It was on that sleep-deprived trip that I am convinced the photograph at the top of this post was taken, and I am as equally as convinced that is me and my dear friend Scott Perkins sticking the upper halves of our then twenty-something bodies out of the vestibule of a D&H passenger coach. We were trying to grab "the money shot" of those marvelous locomotives gliding elegantly along the river. What river? I'll take a guess.
After looking at the photo for what's probably too long, I'm going to say we're in Taylor, just south of Scranton, somewhere between the Davis Street Bridge and what is now the CP/DH rail yard known as Taylor Terminal. We're in the floor of the valley formed by the Lackawanna River. Although we're traveling through a densely populated area, the lush growth of late Spring masks what lies no more than a quarter mile or so either side of the river. Right beyond that right curve we're approaching is a left curve. Exiting the left curve, you'll see the entire Lackawanna Valley sprawl and stretch before you. Again, that's a an educated guess on location.
After looking at the photo for what's probably too long, I'm going to say we're in Taylor, just south of Scranton, somewhere between the Davis Street Bridge and what is now the CP/DH rail yard known as Taylor Terminal. We're in the floor of the valley formed by the Lackawanna River. Although we're traveling through a densely populated area, the lush growth of late Spring masks what lies no more than a quarter mile or so either side of the river. Right beyond that right curve we're approaching is a left curve. Exiting the left curve, you'll see the entire Lackawanna Valley sprawl and stretch before you. Again, that's a an educated guess on location.
The excursion was a trip from The D&H's Hudson Yard in Plains, Pennsylvania(ironically within
walking distance of where I now work), to Oneonta, New York and return. It wound its way through some of the most historical railroading territory in America, right through the heart of anthracite country, past fading traces of mines and breakers which produced the fuel that drove the Industrial Revolution.
Over on the right, yep, those are a couple of my pictures. They were taken on a trip where I managed to not destroy my Kodachrome with a bonehead move. You'll notice people trackside, spotting them easily in the top photo, needing to look a little harder in the bottom one.
What do suppose the odds are that someday, someone would, or could, ever simply stumble across these photos and say, "Holy Crap, look, that's me!"
I took those photographs on a different trip; one from Hoboken to Binghamton via Port Jervis, then back to Hoboken via Scranton. Great, great trip. Going into details would only tickle rail-weenies. those like myself.
So it is that I am semi-amazed, and decidedly amused, to find a photo on the internet that includes me, a photo taken by someone completely unknown to me, and with my presence in it being solely coincidence.
I'm also a little troubled to discover that maybe I am foamer after all.
walking distance of where I now work), to Oneonta, New York and return. It wound its way through some of the most historical railroading territory in America, right through the heart of anthracite country, past fading traces of mines and breakers which produced the fuel that drove the Industrial Revolution.Over on the right, yep, those are a couple of my pictures. They were taken on a trip where I managed to not destroy my Kodachrome with a bonehead move. You'll notice people trackside, spotting them easily in the top photo, needing to look a little harder in the bottom one.
What do suppose the odds are that someday, someone would, or could, ever simply stumble across these photos and say, "Holy Crap, look, that's me!"
I took those photographs on a different trip; one from Hoboken to Binghamton via Port Jervis, then back to Hoboken via Scranton. Great, great trip. Going into details would only tickle rail-weenies. those like myself.
So it is that I am semi-amazed, and decidedly amused, to find a photo on the internet that includes me, a photo taken by someone completely unknown to me, and with my presence in it being solely coincidence.I'm also a little troubled to discover that maybe I am foamer after all.
