There’s something about a steam train that thrills the mind. Oh, sure, they’re majestic relics from a bygone era, objects of interest because of their distinctive habits, curiosities to those who never knew them. But these big beauties, mostly black-clad and arrayed with visible veins and musculature, had soul.
For all their power, modern diesel locomotives are but rectangular boxes that hum a tone, sometimes roaring, as they go about their daily chores. But despite the heavy loads they haul, their work just seems effortless. If ever they strain at their tasks, they show it not.
Not so steam locomotives. To watch one begin its journey hauling heavily-laden freight is to witness a struggle against inertia as it first gives a loud exhale and coughs black smoke skyward. Its muscles twitch, wheels first spinning on the rails as it slowly gains the grip it needs to move forward. As it does, a steam locomotive flexes its muscles, extending its arms back and forth to the beat of its breath. As it clears a crossing, it screams with joy, a plume of white punctuating the air above. Soon it’s on its way, chanting a melodious rhythm as it streaks across the land.
My boyhood was privileged to happen trackside. Fondly do I recall the chuff-chuff of these black beasts as they paraded beneath my schoolroom window. We watched in awe from our trackside playground as they labored within yards of our schoolboy games. I loved to watch the Nickel Plate Berkshires as they stormed across midwestern plains, black smoke trailing ribbon-like in their wake.
Who can deny the special place they hold for us, in memory and in meaning? They first conquered the distances that spread the continent in parts. They powered through two world wars, hauling materiel and troops to their assigned posts and ports. Before highways and the cars that now flood them, they were the public’s chief means of moving quickly from place to place. Every town, it seemed, small or large, saw frequent visits from steam-powered trains.
The fascination with steam locomotives remains, even for those whose memories do not fall on those times of yesteryear. Witness the enormous crowds flocking to see the biggest of them all, Union Pacific Big Boy number 4014. Or the popularity of resurrected locomotives that power the many tourist railroads throughout our proud land. Recall the crowds gathered trackside at crossings to thrill at the sudden sight of a rapidly passing train. The spirit of steam-driven railroading has never died. It has simply gone underground, perhaps hidden from sight, but never forgotten.
Over the years, I’ve been privileged to be trackside as many of these steam locomotives have performed their duties. With my cameras, I’ve captured some of the action and preserved a record of the era that was. I’ve posted some of them to a collection where you can see some of the finer examples of this piece of American heritage. Here’s the link. I hope you enjoy browsing these photos and recalling to mind this special place in American history and memory. And, if you like, prints of these photos are available, should you find something that especially calls out to you or that would make a nice gift for someone who, like me, loves trains.
I’ve posted other photographs, with special emphasis on scenes in nature, as well, and you may enjoy perusing them as well. You can access them from the Photos link on this site, or by going directly to my photo collections.
If you have thoughts about this essay or about the photos, I hope you’ll give me a shout.