Sunday, February 07, 2010

Night Photography



My Fall 2009 issue of the National Railway Historical Society bulletin, a magazine which arrived the other day, has an interesting proposition, that railroad museums can provide excellant photography.
An example, above, was on their cover.
Good old Pennsylvania Railroad M1b Mountain (4-8-2) steam locomotive #6755.
The only Mountain the railroad didn’t scrap.
It was added to their collection of significant retired steam locomotives, which eventually found its way to the Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania across from Strasburg tourist railroad near Strasburg, PA.
It’s good to see one of those gorgeous red keystone number-plates again, centered on the smokebox door.
I saw plenty when I was a kid.
You could see them from afar, and they signaled a great-looking Pennsy steam engine was coming.
My contact with steam locomotives was the Pennsylvania-Reading Seashore Lines (PRSL; “RED-ing,” not “READ-ing”) in south Jersey, a 1933 amalgamation of south Jersey seashore lines to rationalize too much track.
PRSL also used Reading steam engines, but they were ugly compared to Pennsy.
So I always looked for that red keystone.

NIGHT PHOTOGRAPHY

Models were added to make a fair approximation of what you’d see at an engine terminal.
Railroad men contemplating 6755.
Nice, but 6755 is obviously dead.
Its headlight is out, and there are no whisps of steam.
What really throws me off is the lack of boiler-jacketing behind the smokebox.
Boiler rivets glimmer.
It looks like the walkway has been removed too.
I bet the valvegear is gone too.
Union Pacific Big Boy #4012 (4-8-8-4; the biggest steam locomotive ever built), on static display at Steamtown in Scranton (PA), is impressive.
But it’s valve-gear is gone; replaced by tinny bar-stock and stampings, clearly not the real thing.
Not the elegant forgings that comprised steam locomotive valve-gear.
Moving a retired steam locomotive with its valve-gear intact was an invitation to disaster.
It could jam.
Often even the side-rods between drivers were removed, so the wheels could turn freely.
They’d go out of synch.
The crank-pins on one wheelset might be at 12 o’clock, and on the following wheelset it might end up at 5 o’clock.
It’s a nice shot, but all it does is leave me hoping that 6755 can be restored to operation.
The M1b was one of Pennsy’s most successful steam locomotives, although its drivers were too small to be a passenger locomotive. Only 72 inches.
The K4 Pacific (4-6-2) was 80 inches, as was the E6 Atlantic (4-4-2).
80-inch drivers were almost required to be a successful passenger locomotive. A New York Central Hudson (4-6-4) was 79 inches.
72 inches is six feet. 80-inch drivers are taller than a man.
Some locomotives even had 84 inch drivers; that’s seven feet.
84 is 100 mph; although an E6 could do 100 with 80-inch drivers.
And a Norfolk & Western’s J (4-8-4) could do it with 70-inch — although it had roller-bearings in the side-rod pins and the drive-axles.


Another picture taken at Railroad Museum of Pennylvania. (This a GG1 [“Gee-Gee-One”], the greatest railroad locomotive ever made.) (Photo by Tom Hughes.)

• I am a railfan, and have been since I was a child; and I’ve been to both Strasburg and Steamtown.
• As a child I lived in south Jersey until I was almost 14.
• “Tom Hughes” is my brother-from-Delaware’s only son Tom. He recently graduated college as a computer-engineer. Like me he’s a railfan.

Labels:

Saturday, February 06, 2010

Age 66

Yesterday (Friday, February 5, 2010) yrs trly had the pleasure of cranking age 66 into the cardiovascular trainers at the Canandaigua YMCA instead of age 65.
Much like like one year ago when I switched from 64 to 65.
I suppose I should thank my lucky stars, although I don’t think it’s all that.
There are certain things I eat — or don’t eat. Plus I work out at the YMCA.
I don’t smoke, don’t drink, hardly ever eat red meat, and don’t drink soda-pop.
What I eat is fish, and what I drink is water.
I also don’t eat eggs; Egg-Beaters®.
I don’t use salt, and hardly ever eat anything with sugar.
Clean living, more-or-less.
I only need one prescription, instead of 89 bazilyun.
A trainer at the YMCA, who I value, comments she’s having trouble with her knees. She also has trouble with her back. She’s in her 40s.
I’ve been tempted to say something, but haven’t.
I take a fish-oil supplement, 720 mg per day.
A giant horse-pill my wife couldn’t swallow.
Don’t know as it makes any difference, but I think my 66 year old knees are gonna let me run another year.
A report was on the TV-news about how fish-oil lubricates your joints.
Well, I don’t know, but perhaps it’s making a difference.
I had a stroke, but that was over 16 years ago.
And that was more a heart problem, which was fixed.
I have to nap almost every day, but that has been the case ever since the stroke.
The old brain, what remains of it, fags out.
Who knows what they’d find if they CAT-scanned me.
Various medical assays have been performed; stress-tests, a colonoscopy, a skin assay.
But right now I feel all right.

• I work out in the Canandaigua YMCA exercise-gym. (“Canandaigua” [“cannon-DAY-gwuh”] is a small city to the east nearby where we live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” —It’s about 15 miles away.) —Cardiovascular trainers are treadmills, exercise bicycles, etc. They exercise the heart.
• My wife of 42 years is “Linda.” Like me she’s retired.
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993; caused by a heart-defect, an atrial septal defect, a patent foramen ovale (PFO). This flaw passed a clot to my brain.

Friday, February 05, 2010

Get it right, gentlemen

Yesterday (Thursday, February 4, 2010) I had a wisdom-tooth root fragment removed by good old Q-Dental.
That root fragment has probably been in my mouth almost 40 years.
It goes back to when my wisdom-teeth were removed by a previous dentist about 1970.
They were impacted, so were a struggle.
The dentist removed one side at first — the left side — and it was such a struggle one broke.
Which happened to make it easier to extract.
So a few weeks later with the other teeth I told him to break them if he needed to.
And so he did; and so remained that root fragment on my right side at the top.
It apparently healed over, so I wasn’t aware of it.
But with gum recession the top of it was exposed, a jagged edge.
My dentist claimed it was jaw bone, and I shouldn’t worry about it.
It was no problem, so I didn’t.
I stayed with that dentist almost 40 years.
But my Transit retirees association negotiated reduced pricing with Q-Dental.
It was because our retiree dental coverage at Transit was putrid.
I had to pay HUGE co-pays to stay with my old dentist.
So I considered switching.
My previous dentist was a long drive into Rochester. Q-Dental was closer.
I was also troubled that my old dentist refused to invest in new technology.
His receptionist used a typewriter (ding).
I was dumfounded. I hadn’t seen such a thing in years.
My old dentist was loathe to computerize. He still used hand-entered billing on ledger-cards.
So I switched. After all, Q-Dental reduced my dental co-pays about 25 percent.
The first thing Q-Dental did was X-ray my teeth.
“Digital,” I said. “Hooray. The new century at last. I’ve never seen one of those things.”
My dental X-ray was viewable on a ‘pyooter monitor. Even I could see it.
No more secretive mumbo-jumbo.
“That’s not jaw bone,” the Q-Dental dentist said. “That’s a root fragment.”
He recommended extracting it. (Ka-ching, ka-ching!)
I put him off.
It wasn’t bothering.
But I finally decided to extract it. Better to do it at age 66 than in my 80s.
It was inconsequential; only about a quarter-inch long.
I was expecting much longer, and a possible struggle.
“Doin’ okay?” he asked, as he pulled it out.
“I don’t feel a thing except that sucker in my mouth.”
Fragment extracted, he inserted a piece of gauze.
“Now bite down on this,” he said.
Chomp!
I kept the gauze in a while, and didn’t eat anything.
But it was so inconsequential I probably won’t bother with it.
Special considerations for a while; e.g. no mouthwash, and chew only on the other side.
The best part was the prep.
“What are we doing here?” a nurse said. “A full tooth extraction?”
WHOA! I hear that, and diplomacy and tact are out.
“Just a root fragment, guys. You’re not pulling a whole tooth.”
As ABC TV-news anchor Frank Reynolds used to say: “Get it right, gentlemen.”

• For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service, the transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY. My stroke October 26, 1993 ended that.
• “‘Pyooter” is computer.

Thursday, February 04, 2010

Trusteed!

Local 282 has been trusteed.
“Trusteed” means officials from headquarters have taken over our union, and thrown out our local union officers.
Local 282 is the Rochester Division of the nationwide Amalgamated Transit Union (“what’s ‘ATU?’”), and represents union employees of Regional Transit Service.
That’s bus-drivers, mechanics, and a few others.
282 also represents other transit operations; mainly an affiliated para-transit, and an unaffiliated transit operation in a county not part of the Rochester Genesee Regional Transportation Authority (RGRTA).
Regional Transit is my old employer in Rochester, NY, where I drove transit bus 16&1/2 years (1977-1993). My stroke ended it.
I was a member of Local 282.
An informational meeting was held last night (Wednesday, February 3, 2010) supposedly to inform members why our union had been trusteed, and what was happening.
About 50-60 were there — not that good, but better than 10.
Why our union had been trusteed was not specifically clarified — at least not in agreement with the apparent reasons.
The original threat of trusteeship was because our union was not in compliance with the ATU constitution.
We had two full-time paid union officers; the constitution said we should only have one.
Bylaw changes were floated a few months ago to implement this, but they were voted down.
At the last regular monthly business meeting more bylaw changes were presented to implement those same changes, and were approved.
I suppose that scotched the original justification for trusteeing us, so the justification became “malfeasance and malpractice” of our union officers in financial matters.
Seems there was a more underlying cause: the fact nothing was happening.
But as far as I can see, this is also a function of our Company’s attitude, which was to deny everything, and force us to arbitrate, which bankrupts the union.
As a result, a HUGE stack of arbitrations had built up; at least 350.
So many they were being scheduled out to 2016.
“That’s ridiculous,” Washington said. “That only gives them more reason to deny.”
So now the justification is “malfeasance and malpractice.”
But as far as I can see, it’s the fact we are at seeming impasse.
Plus every arbitration costs around $6,000. Multiply that by 350+ and you have a fortune.
“Malfeasance and malpractice,” they said. Much like paying two full-time union officers instead of one.
The trustees are union vice-president Gary Rauen (“ROH-in”) from Washington, DC, and union vice-president Joe Welch from Syracuse.
“I’d like to set a few ground rules,” Rauen said as he started the meeting.
“Any yelling and screaming, and I’m leaving.”
“Ugh,” I thought to myself. “No blog material.”
He detailed why 282 had been trusteed, in his opinion.
It seemed couched in those 350+ arbitrations.
Plus our contract with Transit was at impasse after three years.
Only with his input was a contract settled.
He then entertained questions; but “no screaming please.”
“You mean to tell me the input of our union Executive Board was silly?” asked my old friend Bob Ross.
“We recommended every one of those arbitrations, and our membership approved.” (Maybe 15-20 per vote.)
“Yeah, but every nickel-and-dime issue isn’t worth $6,000 each. What I want is one arbitration that settles maybe 20.”
My old friend Roland Melvin sat down behind me.
“Still at it?” I asked.
“So where are ya now on the Seniority List?” I whispered.
Eight from the top,” he answered.
It’s amazing to think if I were still driving bus, I’d be almost to the top of the Seniority List.
Roland is one class after me.
But my stroke ended it; well short of Roland.
“Management says ya can’t wear a Yankees hat. We shouldn’t arbitrate that,” Rauen said.
I glanced at Roland, who was wearing his Washington Redskins hat.
“I don’t drive bus with this hat,” he said.
“Nor should we be arbitrating cellphone use,” said Rauen.
“Cellphone use while driving is against the law in this state, yet here I got a bus-driver yammering on his cellphone while driving bus with passengers at 50 mph through a construction zone.”
As far as I know we approved arbitration on the fact the Company did not follow disciplinary procedure; not cellphone use.
The dreaded Ozzie was recognized.
“Here you guys come in and take over our union, and throw out our duly-elected officers,” Ozzie said. “How do I know you’re not up to no-good?”
“Oh, Ozzie,” cried my friend Dominick Zarcone (“zar-CONE”), who just recently resigned in disgust as a union officer, still drives bus, and was in the class behind me.
“Blog material,” I shouted.
“How about that?” Rauen said. “The guy walks out without letting me respond.”
Another blog-material activist was recognized; “I wanna ask about arbitrations.”
“Don’t even go there, Brother,” Rauen butted in. “I can’t discuss specific arbitrations.”
Blog-material started getting strident.
Rauen shut him down.
What’ll it be; pursue the matter further, or Rauen shut down the meeting?
Somewhat cowed, blog-material made his question more general; an answer that had already been given.
My perception is that trusteeship is what is needed to drag our union kicking-and-screaming into the 21st century.
A while ago 282 proposed a computer purchase but it was voted down.
Someone blustered he could get the same stuff from his sister for $400. —About $1,600 worth of equipment.
Part of the deal was to install the vaunted MUMs software from ATU; for which we’d get a rebate or something.
MUMs software tracks every union expense and income.
“At the moment your Business-Agent has to track everything in a book — a project that may take all day,” Rauen said. “Do that with MUMs and it won’t take anywhere near that.”
“So are we getting MUMs?” someone asked.
“Yep,” Rauen said. “Computers too. MUMs installed tomorrow.”
Um, guys; our membership voted that down. So our two union officers walked away. We need a trusteeship to drag us into the new century?
The reason all this is happening is because Mr. Rauen got results, and can therefore break the bank. He got Transit, in its infinite wisdom, to stop stalling and give us a contract.
To my mind that is more negotiating prowess; a prowess our two full-time union officers lack.
At impasse they threw up their hands and walked away. Rauen can negotiate; and parry blowhards.
“So what happens after you leave?” someone asked. “Back to intransigence and impasse? That’s what we’re all worried about.”
“It’s not about me, Brother,” Rauen said. “There’s only one God, and it ain’t me.”
Well, some can move mountains and some can’t.
I don’t think our old officers could move mountains, and doubt there’s anyone in the wings.
My perception is that it took three years to get help from ATU, despite all our asking.
And their response is to flip-flop our union, although I think it needed it.
Meeting ended, Bob Ross came over to greet me.
We shook hands, but as often happens to this old stroke-survivor, my speech-center froze, and I couldn’t say anything.
“Wassa matter?” Ross asked. “How come you’re not saying anything?”
“Sometimes the speech-center freezes, and I can’t get anything out,” I responded sheepishly.
“I understand,” Ross said. “Good to see you!”
“We sure had fun with that newsletter,” I said.
“We sure did.”
“Remember that cartoon we ran of the motor-cradle falling out of the back of a bus?” I said.
“We had all those clowns running for cover,” Ross said. “Politicians were calling to ask what was going on.”
“Stuff like that usually got hush-hushed. Best part was that actually happened,” I said.
Then I was greeted by my friend Dick Bastedo (“bas-TEE-doh”), who like me was one of Transit’s favorite bus-drivers. He’s won the annual local bus-roadeo many times. —Even the nationwide bus-roadeo.
“So whadya think?” Bastedo asked.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“350+ arbitrations is a bit over the top, but that’s as much the Company as the union,” I said.
Bastedo introduced me to another another bus-driver; one I didn’t know, which means he was probably hired after my stroke.
“This is Bob Hughes,” Bastedo said. “He used to do the union newsletter.”
Union vice-president Ray Dunbar (“DONE-bar”) arrived.
“It was him and Dunbar,” Bastedo said.
“Yeah,” I said. “It was Dunbar’s idea, and then we passed ‘em out before work. And then Dunbar would spray them all over the city to local politicians.”
“Some day I’ll bring in the copies I still have, so you can see them,” Bastedo said to his friend.
“You mean to tell me you still have all those silly newsletters?” I asked.
“Of course I do,” Bastedo said. “They were really great.
Best one that ever was had that cartoon depicting road-supervisor Gary Damore (“duh-MORE”) as a bulldog named “Dippity Dawg.”
“Actually that was Frank’s idea (union Business Agent Frank Falzone [“fowl-ZONE]), but I ran with it,” I said.
Bus-driver Vince Arena was being mugged by students at East High School, so the radio called up the nearest road-supervisor to assist, and that was Dippity Dawg, but he was glomming donuts three blocks away at the nearby Mickey D’s.
“‘I’ll get right on it, boss,’ but the import of the cartoon was he’d get on it after he finished his donuts.”
“Made him madder than a hornet,” Bastedo said. “Gary knew he couldn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, we had him royally skonked,” I said.
“So what happened?” his friend asked. “We could still use a newsletter like that.”
“Well, I did have a stroke,” I said. “That finished it.
I think the reason management caved and gave us a contract is partly because they lost their beloved Transit Center,” I said.
“That was (Rochester mayor Bob) Duffy,” Bastedo observed. “Duffy hates Mark Aesch (“Ash;” Transit’s head-honcho). He called him a liar.”

• “What’s ‘ah-two?’” is something my mother asked seeing my ATU (Amalgamated Transit Union) button.
• “The Rochester Genesee Regional Transportation Authority” is a local public authority to supervise transit in the area near Rochester and the Genesee River. It’s public — its employees can’t strike.
• “Bob Hughes” is of course me, “BobbaLew.”
• RE: “Union newsletter....” —During my final year at Transit I did a voluntary union newsletter called the “282-News” that caused weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth among Transit management. It was great fun; and I did it with Microsoft Word — although it required a lot of time.
• A “road-supervisor” was a car-mounted management person to supervise and assist bus-drivers.
• “Mickey D’s” is McDonald’s.
• RE: “Transit Center....” —RGRTA was proposing a Transit Center downtown, affiliated with a downtown campus of a local community college, and a theater for community productions, partly to get bus-loading off the main drag. But it was a massive boondoggle that depended on federal funding. The proposed downtown Transit Center got scotched by Rochester mayor Bob Duffy, because sufficient funding would need to be raised by donation for the theater, and it wasn’t there yet. Scotching it denied Transit manager Mark Aesch of his beloved Transit Center.

Labels:

Monday, February 01, 2010

Monthly Calendar Report for February, 2010

The calendar of my own train-photos is still pretty good, but it’s the weakest shot of the calendar.
Actually, all my calendar-shots are pretty good this month, even my booby prize.
But I never really liked ‘36 Fords much.



Uphill on Track One through Gallitzin, PA (“guh-LIT-zin”) toward New Portage Tunnel. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

—The February 2010 entry of my own calendar is an eastbound train up the grade on Track One past AR Tower, which is closed.
The old Pennsy had three tracks over the summit of the Alleghenies, through three tunnels.
Originally they only had two tracks through one tunnel, “Allegheny” at Gallitzin.
As the size of equipment grew, Allegheny became restrictive at two tracks, so was re-laid as only one track.
The Pennsylvania Public Works System built new railroad to avoid its inclined planes — it included its own tunnel under the Alleghenies near Gallitzin; New Portage, but higher up than the Pennsy tunnel.
Eventually Pennsy got the entire Pennsylvania Public Works System, which it had put out of business, for a song, including its New Portage tunnel.
Pennsy aligned trackage over the summit to take advantage of New Portage tunnel, but had to ramp up to and down from it.
Down from New Portage on the eastern slope is “The Slide;” 2.36%, a 2.36 foot drop for every 100 feet forward — not too bad, but bad enough.
Years ago (1947) a passenger-train ran away on The Slide. It derailed and crashed beyond it when its brakes failed, killing 21.
With New Portage and Allegheny, Pennsy now had two tracks through the summit.
Pennsy eventually built a third tunnel in 1912, “Gallitzin,” right next to Allegheny.
Wrecked a building in Gallitzin, and killed a resident with rocks flying from a blast.
It’s very restrictive, and now abandoned.
The state contributed to expanding Allegheny a few years ago, so it could clear double-stacks.
Allegheny was also widened to allow back to two tracks. Doing so meant Gallitzin tunnel could be abandoned.
New Portage was also expanded to clear double-stacks, mainly by lowering the tunnel floor. —New Portage also had two tracks when first built.
The state helped because without double-stacks, Philadelphia was withering compared to other east-coast ports.
At that time the railroad operator was Conrail, which succeeded Penn-Central, the merger of Pennsy and New York Central that went bankrupt. Now it’s Norfolk Southern, a merger of Norfolk & Western and Southern Railway. Norfolk Southern purchased many of the ex-Pennsy lines when Conrail sold.
The train pictured is slowly grinding eastbound up the western slope of the Alleghenies on Track One toward New Portage tunnel.
It’s a difficult shot because it’s through a hole in chain-link fence — the hole about two inches in diameter.
I had to crop out fencing on the left side.
Track One is through New Portage; Two and Three through the expanded Allegheny. Three used to go through Gallitzin.
New Portage is about a half-mile from Allegheny; the other side of town.
You can hear a train climbing Track One, but can’t see it from Two and Three.
AR is where a loop track from Two and Three merged into One. One is eastbound, Three westbound, and Two can be either way.
Heavy freights often take Two down the eastern slope to avoid The Slide.
The loop was for helpers up the eastern slope to go back down One to Altoona.
The loop still exists, and sees use occasionally.
But most of the time the helpers go right on by, often all the way down to Pittsburgh, since they can add dynamic braking.
It’s my weakest picture, although others are also weak.
My friend Phil Faudi, the railfan extraordinaire from Altoona, PA, who supplies all-day train-chases for $125 (I’ve done two), suggests three tracks isn’t enough for the coming deluge of traffic when the recession subsides.
It’s already a bottleneck.
Gallitzin may have to be enlarged and reopened.


Spitfire. (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)

—The February 2010 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar is fabulous, the Supermarine Spitfire.
The Supermarine Spitfire is the BEST airplane fielded by the British in WWII.
Not as good as a Mustang, but almost.
It used a 1,478 horsepower version of the water-cooled Merlin V12, earlier than the Mustang, which was at 1,695 horsepower.
The Mustang Merlin was made by Packard; the Spitfire Merlin by Rolls-Royce. —The Merlin engine was originally developed by Rolls-Royce.
It was the consummate British hot-rod — developed independent of British military requirements, but a superior airplane.
If I am right, it’s a development of a float-equipped racing seaplane; fast and extremely maneuverable.
It was so good the British rewrote their military fighter-plane requirements to accommodate it.
It was the old fighter-plane waazoo; speed and maneuverability triumph.
Kind of like the P38 Lightning in America — an airplane that didn’t meet single-engine fighter-plane requirements, but was superior.
A Spitfire could trump anything the Luftwaffe threw at it, but supposedly wasn’t the airplane that won the Battle of Britain.
That was the Hawker Hurricane. (Pictured at left.)
(That Hurricane picture is not Makanna. You can tell; it’s not very dramatic.
My Makanna Hurricane picture is 2008; it’s gone.)

Pennsylvania Railroad Alco RS11s south toward Morrisville, PA on the old Bel-Del Division of the Pennsy in Jersey. (Photo by Martin Zak©.)

—The February 2010 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs black and white All-Pennsy Calendar is a sterling example of a cardinal rule of artistic photography.
Namely, every photograph needs a foreground.
In this case the foreground is the crossbucks — the railroad-crossing sign.
The locomotives aren’t that photogenic. But those crossbucks make it a great picture, almost good enough to be my winner.
The locomotives are RS-11s, Alco’s DL-701, Alco’s successor to their highly successful RS-3 series. They were rated at 1,800 horsepower, and used a turbocharged V12 engine, their 251B series.
They accelerated faster than their competition (the EMD GP9), generated higher tractive effort, and used less fuel.
The RS-11 was also quite versatile, and was used in general freight service, which we see here.
Photo by BobbaLew.
Pennsy had 38, and I managed to snag a couple in the yards at Wilmington, DE about 1959.
My guess is these RS-11s were used down the Delmarva Peninsula, which wasn’t electrified.
At that time Pennsy was still using electrified freight engines, where applicable.
The P5 and P5a, and later the E-44 (see below).
Some GG1s ("Gee-Gee-One") were regeared down for freight service.
The RS-11 first hit the market in 1956.
It did fairly well, but EMD units did better; e.g. the GP9.
The RS11s were the next step up in the Alco RS series; first the RS1, then the RS2, and finally the RS3.
The road-switcher RS concept (the RS1) debuted in 1941.
The Bel-Del Division is a bucolic spur that runs up the Delaware River from Trenton, NJ.
It was very scenic, and therefore quite moribund — didn’t generate much freight.
It paralleled much of the Delaware & Raritan Canal along the Delaware River.
It’s been partially abandoned, Trenton up to Milford. Milford up to Phillipsburg is a shortline, but Phillipsburg up to Belvidere is still a viable class-one railroad, Norfolk Southern.
The train pictured is southbound from Phillipsburg to Morrisville, PA, via Trenton.
Phillipsburg is apparently fairly busy, and seems to have a yard, of sorts.
I can imagine a train of cars stacking up for these locomotives to take down to Morrisville, which is across the river in PA from Trenton, and junctions with the old Pennsy electrified line from New York City to Philadelphia.
It’s also where an electrified freight bypass around Philadelphia to Harrisburg started.

A Pennsy E44 on the freight-line parallel to the lower Susquehanna River. (Photo by Bill Janssen.)

—The February 2010 entry of my All-Pennsy color calendar is a General Electric E44.
The E44 was only built for Pennsy, out of its need to rectify the AC delivered by its catenary (“KAT-in-air-eee;” overhead trolley-wire).
Pennsy’s electrification is Alternating Current. Only AC could transmit over the long distances it had to travel.
But diesel-locomotive traction-motors are 600-volt Direct Current. Trolley lines were usually Direct Current too, as was New York Central’s third-rail electrification into New York City.
Pennsy’s Hudson tunnels were third-rail Direct Current at first, but were switched to overhead AC wiring with the coming of Alternating Current locomotives.
Unfortunately, AC locomotives won’t work on DC, nor will DC traction-motors run on AC.
Pennsy went whole-hog with AC electrification.
The fabulous GG1 (“Gee-Gee-One”) locomotive was AC.
As were many of their earlier electric locomotives, and the MP54 commuter cars.
By the ‘50s, Pennsy’s electric freight locomotives, the P5 and P5a, which had been downgraded from passenger service by the GG1, were old and worn out.
Pennsy began experimenting with replacements, some rectified, some not, all cab-units, like diesel cab-units.
Photo by BobbaLew.
An E2b at Wilmington Shops about 1960.
The E2b was straight AC, built by General Electric, and could be MU-ed with a P5.
The locomotive pictured at left is an E2b.
Baldwin-Westinghouse built a three-truck E3; three four-wheel trucks on a common frame — one truck was in the center where the fuel-tank usually was on a diesel.
It used ignitron rectification.
Baldwin also built a two-truck E2c, also rectified, with two three-axle trucks.
The E44 came after Virginian Railway, and buyer New Haven, did well with Virginian’s E33 rectified electric locomotive, 3,300 horsepower, built by General Electric.
The E44 came in two iterations.
The first 60 used ignitron rectification, but the final six used newly developed silicon diode rectification, much more rugged and reliable.
Eventually many E44s were converted to silicon diode rectification.
Rectification meant the E44 could use the traction-motors used in diesels.
A new traction-motor became available, which allowed uprating the locomotive from 4,400 horsepower to 5,000.
Efficient as it was, maintenance of the overhead catenary was time-consuming and costly.
Plus a crash could take down wire disabling a segment.
Eventually the freight lines were deenergized, and wiring removed.
I knew the locomotives would wear out, but I thought that wire was forever.
All that remains is the line-side poles. —It’s depressing.
I bet this freight line pictured, if it even exists at all, isn’t wired.


Second 95, a southbound time freight, resumes after making a setoff at Waynesboro. (Photo by O. Winston Link.)

—The February 2010 entry of my O. Winston Link "Steam and Steel" calendar is better than last month.
Not that bad, really.
I almost made it my winner, but my Ghosts warbirds calendar was more dramatic.
The locomotive is Y6 #2150, a 2-8-8-2 compound articulated, compound meaning spent steam from the rear cylinders powers the front cylinders.
Compounding was very popular around the turn of the century, but it didn’t work out well.
Usually railroads that operated compound articulateds ended up converting their compounds to “simple;” the single boiler powering all four cylinder-sets directly.
Railroads even tried compounding in non-articulated steam locomotives. Cylinders powered inside axle cranks, often a third cylinder, sometimes a third and fourth.
Sometimes such locomotives were simple, with the boiler powering all cylinders directly.
But the valve-gear, being inside, was so hard to work on the railroads gave up.
At least with a compound articulated, its valve-gear was accessible.
It’s just that compounds didn’t work very well.
Yet Norfolk & Western made it work.
Far as I know, the Y6 was the only successful compound.
On Norfolk & Western, regularly scheduled freight trains were called “time freights.”
Norfolk & Western mainly shipped coal, usually in “extra” coal trains.
When a string of loaded hopper-cars came together, it was dragged somewhere as an “extra.”
Empty hoppers were also moved as “extra.”
Often time freights got loaded out with coal cars.
Second 95, a time freight, has stopped at Waynesboro to set out cars.
Setout completed, it resumes in the dark past Waynesboro depot.
Station-Agent F.C. Amentrout is inside.


1971 Dodge Super Bee. (Photo by David Newhardt.)

—The February 2010 entry of my Motorbooks Musclecars calendar is a 1971 Dodge Super Bee.
Sorry; not bad, but not the best.
A ‘69 Dodge Charger.
Best was the ‘69 Dodge Charger (pictured at left), a gorgeous car.
The Super Bee was a response to the phenomenally successful Plymouth RoadRunner, a great concept, startlingly incredible performance on the cheap.
Meld a four-speed floor-shift with a high-performance 383 Wedge in an el-cheapo Plymouth.
Sold like hotcakes; so successful all the other manufacturers had to scramble.
The Pontiac G-T-O was another great concept, but cost megabucks compared to a RoadRunner.
A RoadRunner wasn’t as fast as the super cars, but it was fast enough.
Cost-wise it was within range of the average joe.
A ‘69 RoadRunner.
My neighbor in Rochester had one; but it was dark green with TorqueFlite automatic tranny.
Sadly it got totaled; rammed by a drunk while parked.
The RoadRunner pictured has a special hood-scoop I’ve never seen before; i.e. it ain’t stock.
Beyond that a RoadRunner is quite large; enough sheet metal for a pickup truck.
But they went like stink, and sold a lot.
Mind-bending performance on the cheap. Usually enough to beat most hot-rodded Small-Block Chevys in street racing.
Only the mega-rich could afford a full-bore muscle-car; e.g. a 454 Chevelle, or a G-T-O Judge.
But the average joe wasn’t racing full-bore muscle-cars. He was racing tricked-out Small-Block Chevys. A RoadRunner was comparable.
Plus it was a street-racer you bought ready-to-race from the dealer — a Small-Block Chevy had to be hot-rodded. (E.g. you had to install a Duntov cam.)
What’s most laughable about that Super Bee is that el-cheapo pop-hood scoop that looks like it was fashioned from Coke cans.
It’s probably better than that, but looks like a cheap-shot.
Cut a hole in the hood, and install this cheap stamping. —And make it pop up by lack of engine vacuum; i.e. when the gas-pedal is floored.


1936 Ford Three-Window Coupe.

—The February 2010 entry of my Oxman Hot-Rod Calendar is a 1936 Ford Three-Window coupe; my boobie-prize.
Actually, it’s not that bad as a picture — I just don’t like ‘36 Fords.
And apparently a three-window coupe is rare — I haven’t seen many.
Who knows when Ford stopped making three-window coupes; the last I could find with a cursory Google search was 1937.
A ‘39 Ford five-window coupe.
At left is a ‘39 Ford five-window DeLuxe coupe — I don’t think Ford was making three-windows by then.
A five-window has small windows behind the doorposts. A three-window doesn’t.
The ‘39-‘40 Ford coupes are gorgeous.
Old Henry thought styling was frivolous — what mattered was function.
That being the case, Ford did not have a huge styling section like General Motors.
Yet despite that Old Henry brought some of the finest looking cars ever to market; e.g. the Model A, the ‘32 Ford, the ‘34, and the ‘39-‘40 Ford coupes.
The head of Ford styling was Eugene T. “Bob” Gregorie, and it was just a small styling section, but had the backing of Henry’s son Edsel Ford.
It was Edsel that brought Ford Motor Company beyond Old Henry, to become a viable auto manufacturer.
Key to making the ‘32 Ford the great step forward it was, was moving the gas-tank from the cowl to the rear of the car.
No longer was gasoline trickling from cowl tank to engine by gravity; it was now moving by fuel-pump.
There also was the Flat-head V8 motor introduced in the ‘32 model-year.
Old Henry had made a V8 available to the masses.
The car pictured probably had a Flat-head at first; Flat-head being a side-valve engine, like a Briggs & Stratton lawnmower engine (though water-cooled).
It’s valving was in the engine block; not overhead in the cylinder heads.
The Flat-head Ford V8 lasted through the 1953 model year, and was snappy and cheap enough to father hot-rodding.
Yet the ‘39-‘40 Fords aren’t the best-looking coupes of that era.
The first Stone-Woods-Cook Willys, an actual Willys.
That would be the ‘41 Willys; same styling, but a three-window, and better yet a one-piece windshield.
Very basic and raw-looking. No adornment, but the same graceful lines as the ‘39-‘40 Ford coupes.
It has the same double rear-window as the ‘39-‘40 Ford coupe, but lacks the styling complication of -a) a two-piece windshield, and -b) a five-window design.
The ‘41 Willys coupe was lighter than the ‘39-‘40 Ford coupe, though about as aerodynamic.
Which is why Stone-Woods started racing it.
Their first racer was an actual Willys, but then the powers-that-be that ran drag-racing permitted fiberglass reproduction bodies, which allowed Stone/Woods to build a racer much lighter.
That would be “Swindler II,” pictured below, essentially a reproduction fiberglass ‘41 Willys body plopped on a dragster chassis.
Its front-end was tube solid, same as a dragster, and it had no radiator.
Dragsters don’t either. They can only run a few minutes.
It was so fast it needed a drag chute just like a dragster.
If I were to build a hot-rod, it would be based on the ‘41 Willys coupe.
Best-looking hot-rod ever.


Swindler II.

Labels:

The dreaded boiler-room

In September of 1949, yrs trly began school at Erlton (“EARL-tin”) Elementary, Erlton, NJ.
Kindergarten — schooling lasted 13 years, through four schools in two separate states.
Add college and it’s 17 years.
Erlton School was built in 1926, a giant three-story yellow-brick building.
The lintels over the doors at each end still said “boys” and “girls;” a reflection of prior practice.
Somewhere in an old album is a picture of me, a terrified tike in Sears corduroy pants, cowering in the schoolyard.
Tentatively about to begin his first foray into the real world.
I was five.
Erlton is a sleepy suburb of Philadelphia (in south Jersey) founded in the late ‘20s and early ‘30s by a guy named Earl.
I guess Earl was the developer.
There were a bunch of gable-roofed houses built by him sprinkled throughout the town.
The house we were in, not one of his, was built in 1940.
What brought all this to mind was mention on the radio that DeSales (“de-SALES”) School in Geneva was closed because of a boiler malfunction.
Early in my schooling we tikes were paraded down into the dreaded boiler-room at Erlton School.
There in the basement was a giant coal-fired boiler, a fiery furnace.
Inside, through the glass peephole, was a roaring flame; Hades.
The import, of course, was this was what happened to naughty children.
You got dragged to the boiler-room, to be tossed into the fiery furnace.
Not really, of course.
But that was the impression we were supposed to come away with.
Last time I visited Erlton, the school was gone.

• “We” is my family.
• “Geneva” is a small city about 30 miles east of where we live in Western NY. It’s at the north end of Seneca Lake — a long Finger Lake. A number of railroads went through it.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

I ain’t 90

This coming Friday, February 5, 2010, yrs trly will turn 66.
As has been customary for years, my wife’s mother sent me a birthday-card.
“Have a wonderful 90th birthday,” it says. (See card at left.)
“I’m not 90!” I snapped.
This might seem laughable at first, but actually it’s not.
The poor lady can’t see.
Macular degeneration.
She’s almost 94, and lives in a retirement center in De Land, FL; although on her own.
She’d be mortified to know she sent a 90th birthday-card.
“I won’t tell her,” my wife said.
My wife’s mother has to depend on strangers or sales clerks to buy cards.
Or in this case, I think she picked it out herself.

• My wife of 42 years is “Linda.” Like me she’s retired.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Unrestored, original, authentic



The March 2010 issue of my Classic Car Magazine has a celebration of unrestored, original old cars.
Many examples are trotted by, but primary is a 1932 Ford V8 roadster (pictured above); unrestored, original, as delivered by the factory.
Such a ‘32 Ford is extremely rare. Most ‘32 Fords became hot-rods, or left stock but restored.
Restoration takes a car back to even more pristine condition than it left the factory.
Paints may be a color-match for the paint applied at the factory, but made from modern materials.
The appearance of better-than-stock parts may be clean enough to eat off of.
Pop the hood of a well-used car, and ya can’t eat off the engine.
A well-used car is often a filthy wreck, a subject for restoration, depending on how far gone it is.
I remember all the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth when a friend had two Model A coupe bodies crushed at college.
But they were too far gone for him to deal with. Good sheetmetal, but a total rebuild.
Classic Car Magazine had an article a while ago on restoration of a well-rusted 1955 Buick.
It was like building from scratch.
Patch-panels had to be welded in, and the body completely reconstructed.
It was a triumph of sorts; triumph over rot.
The end result was nice to look at, but it was a 1955 Buick.
Ho-hum.



The owner of this ‘32 Ford Roadster was tempted to restore it — it would have been an easy restoration.
He was also offered thousands by would-be hot-rodders.
But he was counseled otherwise.
An unrestored 1932 Ford is authentic. Apparently there are other unrestored ‘32 Fords around, but not roadsters.
Looking at it, you see faded paint and rusty chrome.
Everything inside looks well-worn.
The builder-plate is severely corroded.
1932 Fords are so popular, a market has sprung up for reproduction parts, even frames and sheetmetal.
One of the first questions I ask seeing a hot-rod, is if it’s fiberglass or metal.
Now even that’s wrong. Is it original or reproduction sheetmetal?
Other cars were presented as unrestored originals.
I’ve presented a 1960 Corvette (below).



It was stored 30 years in a barn, and it’s engine had to be rebuilt.
It’s the 270-horsepower dual-quad engine.
Something is wrong with the paint at the right door-handle.
You can see it — the paint is gone. You can see the fiberglass underneath.
A small section of paint is also missing atop the right-front fender. You can see that in the picture.
Another unrestored car is a 1935 Hupmobile.
It even has a dent in the sheetmetal a former driver inflicted many years ago.
Other cars are a 1962 Thunderbird, a 1937 Packard, a 1967 Cadillac Eldorado, a 25,000-mile 1971 Barracuda, and a 550,000-mile 1971 Ram-Air Mustang.
A picture looks at the front sub-frame of the Mustang. It’s all pitted and pockmarked with rust.
Every write-up includes the following: “It’s no longer authentic if it’s restored.”

• I’m a lifelong classic car fan.
• “Dual-quads” are two four-barrel carburetors — such an arrangement can breathe extremely well, and therefore generate gobs of horsepower. Dual-quad Corvettes were extraordinarily fast.
• “Ram-Air” refers to a through-the-hood air-scoop system that pumped additional air to the carburetor; thereby generating more horsepower.
• The front suspension (and motor) of a Mustang was on a “front sub-frame.” The rest of the car was unit construction — no frame.

Labels: