Ah October! The best - or at least one of the best - months of the year. At least it's one of my favorites.
And if you live in New England, it's certainly the most colorful of months - and right smack dab in the middle of my favorite season: Autumn! It's also the shortest season - since I only count when the leaves have erupted in full color, my favorite season lasts only a few weeks. Anything before that is "late summer" and anything after that is "early winter."
But for now, I look forward to enjoying the shushing of leaves, the smell of wood smoke in the air, the taste of a warm cup of apple cider by the fire. And it wouldn't be a bad thing if I spend some more time in the basement on the layout as well in the coming weeks - after all, it's always Autumn on the Valley Line!
(Ok - so this post has nothing to do with the Valley Line, and I post it on this day every year, but I include it because it gives me a chance to combine my two primary passions: the New Haven Railroad & bicycling. It's also an absolutely wonderful window into the past - a veritable time machine, a trip down Memory Lane despite the fact that you're viewing it on a computer or tablet. So, turn back the pages of history and get a little glimpse of what life was like in New England on the New Haven Railroad on the eve of World War II, 84 years ago today . . .click to cue the music)
September 28, 1941 was a Sunday. An early autumn day in Southern New England, clear and mild.
World War II had been raging in Europe for exactly two years this month. The German army had advanced into the Soviet Union over the summer and was riding high on the success of having already conquered most of Western Europe. France had just been split into German-occupied and Vichy zones the previous month.
On this particular Sunday, the Japanese were celebrating the 10 year anniversary of occupying China's northeast territory of Manchuria. At some point during that same day, perhaps as some sign of heaven's outrage at such an audacious celebration, the sun was blacked out during a total eclipse visible in most of China - from just northeast of the Black Sea to the Pacific ocean.
Britain had survived the Blitz, which ended the previous May - the same month Glenn Miller first recorded "Chattanooga Choo Choo" which was featured in a hit movie starring Sonja Henie. "Blue Champagne" by the Jimmy Dorsey Orchestra was the #1 song of the land on September 28, but the Henie movie, "Sun Valley Serenade," was released to theaters exactly a month earlier. By then "Chattanooga Choo Choo" was already a top ten on the Hit Parade, well on its way to becoming the first gold record ever the following February. It was the nation's #1 hit by that December.
Bobby-soxers fed the voracious appetite of juke boxes across the country one nickel at a time and made Frank Sinatra the top male vocalist that year.
But there was no sign of bad weather on this day, and at least a few folks took advantage of the beautiful Sunday afternoon to go for a bike ride and have a picnic - all courtesy of the New Haven Railroad.
There aren't many left that remember the "Hobby Trains" run by the New York, New Haven & Hartford Railroad (aka the "New Haven") during the late 1930s and early 1940s. In an effort to boost ridership, the New Haven took advantage of the fact that their railroad connected the Great Metropolis of New York with New England. There were camp trains in the summer and ski trains in the winter. Photography specials in the spring and all year 'round. But what better time for a Bike Train than Autumn and what better place than the Berkshire Hills?
Thanks to a discovery of raw film footage by the NHRHTA, we can go back to that Sunday over eight decades ago and enjoy the sights of a pre-war bike ride. You'll have to pedal your single-speed cruiser over a bunch of rolling hills before you get to eat. Don't worry if you have to walk up some of them - and ladies, be sure to mind your skirts that they don't get caught in the spokes or chain. There are no "rest stops" as we think of on 21st century rides - bits of orange and Powerbars - but an entire spread complete with potato salad, Boston baked beans, chicken and watermelon awaits us.
So give your Schwinn, Columbia or Raleigh to the porter to put in the baggage car, give the conductor your ticket, and enjoy the trip. The train is about to arrive at the station . . .
For more about the cycle trains - and all the other "Hobby Trains" the New Haven Railroad ran - be sure to check out the comprehensive article by Marc Fratassio in Volume 40, Issue 2 of the NHRHTA's Shoreliner magazine. I also came across the following article from the May 2, 1936 issue of Railway Age magazine which covers the New Haven's cycle trains shortly after the first one ran.
Hope you enjoy this additional little journey down Memory Lane . . .
September 21, 1938 marks a somber - and for the New Haven Railroad, a devastating - event in history.
Making landfall that day, The Great New England Hurricanewas - and remains - the most powerful and deadly storm to hit New England in at least 300 years. It killed an estimated 682 people, damaged or destroyed 57,000 homes and cost an estimated $5.6 billion in 2019 dollars. Even as late as 1951, you could still see damaged trees and buildings.
The New Haven's Shore Line route was hit especially hard. . .
But the railroad - despite being in receivership after having gone into bankruptcy a few years earlier - restored its many washed-out lines in record time. The little booklet above tells the story:
"On September 21st, 1938, with flood waters already threatening major washouts at important points along the New Haven Railroad where the tracks paralleled or crossed the swollen torrents of New England's rivers...suddenly, just before dark, in the teeth of a howling southwest gale which increased momentarily to hurricane proportions, a steadily rising tide which in some places rose twenty feet in as many minutes, swept inland along the New England coast-line across the Shore Line Route of the New Haven Railroad...carrying on its crest hundreds of boats, ships, cottages, buildings, and wreckage. Communications by rail, wire, and telephone with many devastated areas was completely cut off. No one realized as yet what a staggering blow had been dealt by this combined hurricane - tidal wave - flood throughout the length and breadth of southern New England. But the next morning revealed a grim picture of death and desolation. Where fast freights and through passenger trains, including the crack Shore Line Limiteds had sped in rapid succession between New York and New England points carrying passengers, mail, express, and the vital necessities of life...now miles of silent track hung at crazy angles over yawning chasms in a hopeless tangle of power lines, signal towers, houses, boats, and thousands of tons of debris. Further inland at Hartford, Springfield, Norwich, Willimantic, and Putnam the hurricane had left its toll of felled trees and communication systems, crumbled freight sheds and roofless factories...and to add to the chaos, the raging rivers from the north broke through dams and temporary dikes, washing out railroad bridges and miles of track...rendering useless the strategic points through which Shore Line trains might have been re-routed. The vital life-line between New England and points south and west had been effectually severed. It had to be restored without delay. Thousands of men were needed for the Herculean task of rebuilding a railroad. The summoning of trackmen, engineers, skilled repair crews, and laborers had to be carried out without the help of modern communications systems. In an incredibly short time an army of 5,000 men were at work...toiling 24 hours a day in 3 shifts...many of them eating and sleeping in work trains and Pullman cars on the job..."
Those of us living in New England a few years back went through "Superstorm Sandy" and got a taste of what The Great New England Hurricane might have been like. But, as it turns out, it was a pretty small taste - as bad as Sandy was, it didn't come anywhere close. Check out this site for an eye-opening comparison of the two storms.
There are fewer and fewer folks that have first-hand memories of that fateful day 86 years ago, but thanks to the extensive coverage the storm received - not to mention the wonders of the internet that allow all that coverage to be easily saved and shared - the heroic efforts of the employees of the New Haven Railroad, including those on the Valley Line and most especially along the Shore Line, will never be forgotten.
Hope you can join us for the NHRHTA's big TRAIN SHOW AND CONVENTION, with lots of fun & frivolity this Friday and Saturday (including new NHRR model announcements from Rapido and BLI!) - and if you're a NHRHTA member, on Sunday you can see the Valley Local - as well as some really well-done NHRR-themed layouts!
As you'll see below, there is a LOT going on! So check out the details - and hope to see you there!!
I'm told it was 77 years ago today - the Friday of Labor Day Weekend, September 3, 1948 - when an 8 year old little boy went down to the Old Saybrook station platform to watch trains. The sun was going down - it'd be totally set within a few minutes - and in the gathering dusk a dull roar like thunder could be heard . . .
Looking eastward down the tracks, toward the gathering darkness, the sound seemed to get closer and he could just start to make out what looked like a plume of smoke - or maybe it was two? That didn't make sense. Almost all of the trains on the Shore Line were dieselized now, but, as loud as a pair of back-to-back DL-109s are, they sure don't sound like this . . .
It was the glimmer on the rails, lighting up the curve in the far distance, that was the first giveaway that a train was for-sure coming. Of course, the little boy knew a train was due. He'd been into trains for as long as he could remember and he knew how to read a timetable.
He knew that the approaching train had just crossed the Connecticut River and was accelerating hard off the bridge. It sure sounded like it - and the distinctive bark meant this train had to have a steam locomotive on the point. And with it being a little past 7pm, that meant it had to be The Merchant's Limited.
But was it early? The Merchants wasn't due through Saybrook until 7:17 . . . but just then, the train came blasting around the distant curve - exhaust roaring and headlight blazing! Before he could fully comprehend it all, The Advance Merchants Limited flew by at 65 miles an hour behind not one, but TWO! I-4 Pacifics with 23 heavyweight parlor cars on their tail.
In the rush of the passing train, little John Pryke could just make out the glow of two fireboxes and just as quickly as it had come, it was gone again with the tail sign receding quickly toward the sunset.
As the dust settled and the thunder of the Merchants' passing began to fade, the impression of the sight seared itself into the little boy's memory, and sparked a passion for the New Haven Railroad that would last the rest of his life and spur him into recreating this memory in miniature, someday.
* * * * * * * *
I try to relate this story at or at least near the anniversary of this event, which is all - mostly - verified as true. Especially since it not only inspired John to a life-long love of the New Haven RR, but - indirectly - influenced my choice not only of prototype, but of era and locale. John often mentioned visiting his grandparents in Old Saybrook and going with them down to the station to watch the trains go by. And he remembers seeing the double-headed, steam-powered Advance Merchant's Limited the Friday evening of Labor Day Weekend, 1948. It was this event, more than anything else, that he always pointed to as the inspiration for getting into model railroading and trying to recreate the New Haven in HO scale.
In fact, all of John's layouts - all featured at one time or another in books or the pages of Model Railroader - were firmly set in space and time: Southern New England's New Haven Railroad was the space, and the time could only ever be "September, 1948."
Now, almost twelve years after John's passing, I'm closer than ever to being able to recreate this memory in miniature. I have the Old Saybrook station scene as a highlight on my layout and, while I don't mind varying my chosen era within the narrow confines of "1947-1949," for all intents and purposes I'm modeling the Autumn of 1948.
I think - and hope - John would be proud of the effort. And I know he'd get a kick out of seeing a little HO scale version of his 8 year old self on the Saybrook station platform, waiting for another train to go by . . .
* This post originally appeared 9/27/2018, 70 years to the month since the event took place. I've reposted it not only to commemorate such an important time in John's life, but to remind myself that preserving these memories is one of the reasons for embarking on this project in the first place.
Even though I never met him in person, his friendship and mentorship did more to improve my modeling than anyone else I've known. Sadly, Ralph Renzetti passed away suddenly last night and with his passing I - and so many others who had the good fortune to know him and learn from him - lost a loyal friend and patient teacher.
Like many others, I first heard of Ralph during the NMRAx days during COVID and I'll never forget the first time I tuned in to one of his online clinics. He started his clinic and, patiently and methodically, started to describe in detail all the processes and techniques he used for weathering freight cars. About 20 minutes in, the moderator interrupted him to say that the feed wasn't working and/or that it wasn't being recorded and asked if he'd mind starting over.
And, without missing a beat, Ralph literally went right back to the beginning of his PowerPoint and - without a hint of annoyance or frustration - just started over and did his clinic a second time as if nothing had happened.
Our paths started to cross regularly as we both began participating in the Wednesday night zoom chats sponsored by the A Modeler's Life podcast (AML). I was always impressed - and a little surprised - by how readily he would share, in detail, different weathering processes and secrets of the trade, despite his running a weathering business. It was obvious that he had the heart and soul of a teacher, and his love for helping others achieve good results was obvious.
But he could also have some pretty strong opinions, and his disdain for the use of craft paints and PanPastels in weathering freight cars and locomotives became legendary as a constant inside joke, which even he laughed at from time to time (but he never changed his mind :^) One of the first times he and I corresponded directly through FB Messenger, we got into a debate about airbrushing craft paints. Suffice it to say, I was for and he was against. Also, suffice it to say, that he eventually convinced me that part of my airbrush phobia was due to getting bad results from using inferior products.
In fact, Ralph Renzetti is alone responsible for getting me over my fear of the airbrush. Not only did he recommend what airbrush to get (and sent me a coupon code when he heard that model airbrush was on sale), but he would also "go with me" via online chat to local hobby shops to help me purchase the "right" paint. Best of all, he would patiently "watch over my shoulder" via FaceTime, FB Messenger, or Zoom, teaching me the correct techniques and talking me through (and down) whenever something went wrong. "Don't worry - we can fix that," spoken in the same patient tone I'd remembered from his NMRAx clinic, reassured me that whatever happened would turn out ok. You can't put any kind of price on the boost of confidence that provides, especially when trying to learn something new.
But the two most profound influences Ralph had on my modeling was in helping me develop some skill in weathering - as well as (the other extreme) creating a "show room finish" on a couple of model automobiles.
Before Ralph, my weathering "technique" (if I bothered to weather at all) was to slap on some chalks and hope they didn't disappear when I applied Dullcote. But he graciously offered to tutor me through weathering a new locomotive - all virtually & online. His watching over me, offering tips and advice along the way, and helping me avoid mistakes (and sharing his expertise in fixing any mistakes I made), allowed me to produce a model that was WAY beyond my natural ability. I often jokingly referred to him as "ObiWan" (another one of his nicknames was "Obi Wan Cannolli") but he'd give it right back, calling me "Young Padawan." I also called him my training wheels and guardrails, since I was able to make MUCH faster progress with him by my side (even if only virtually) than if I'd been reaching around in the dark on my own.
And outside of model railroading, he was my partner in building "Two Old Fords for Christmas" for my dad last year. I hadn't known that he was not only a professional weatherer of model railroad stuff, but was an accomplished contest quality automobile modeler as well. I hadn't built a car kit since I was 9 years old. But - again - with his patient guidance, teaching me everything I needed to know, step-by-step along the way, and even teaching me brand new skills, I was able to finish those two models for my dad in time for Christmas.
Whether hanging out during online chats, or down in my basement via zoom, Ralph was a wonderful friend, amazingly generous with his time and sharing his talent. His legacy will live on in the many others like me that have become much better modelers because of his teaching and example. Even more important than that though, I've become a better, more patient person myself for having had the privilege of knowing him and I'll miss him terribly.
