(Late, as usual. Like before, this Monthly Calendar-Report was done WEEKS ago, but things have intervened, making me unable to fly it.)None of the art of my seven calendars really stands out.......,
B6 switcher at Camden, NJ, 1956.(Photo by John Dziobko.)
....but since the engine in my All-Pennsy Color Calendar is one I probably saw, I’ll make it number-one.
#5261, a tiny B6 (0-6-0) switcher, is working north of Camden Terminal Enginehouse in Camden, NJ.
I rode that turntable at Camden Terminal Enginehouse in the first grade. It’s the thing I remember most about my elementary education.
Camden is essentially an extension of Philadelphia across the Delaware River into southern New Jersey.
I was born in Camden; Cooper Hospital.
The first railroad between the Philadelphia area and the New York City area (also the first railroad in the U.S.) was the Camden & Amboy in 1831.
Being entirely in New Jersey, freight had to be ferried at both ends.
Railroad river crossings came later: the Delair Bridge from North Philadelphia over the Delaware River in 1896 (and a continuous stone-arch bridge built earlier over the Delaware at Trenton, NJ, that blocked deepwater navigation), and the PRR Hudson Tubes in 1910 (although the Tubes weren’t large enough to pass freight-cars).
The Camden & Amboy remained extant, although it was eventually operated by Pennsy.
My paternal grandparents lived in Camden, so even though we lived much farther out in a suburb, we went into Camden often.
In so doing we passed under the old right-of-way of the C&A, elevated above street-level long ago.
Numerous railroad freight-yards were around Camden, the largest and most recent of which was “Pavonia” (“pah-VO-nee-uh”) on the C&A east of Camden.
There also was a yard in downtown Camden at the old ferry-slips that closed in 1952. (My sister and I rode that ferry; to Philadelphia across the Delaware River.)
The ferry-slips were at the heads of various railroads across New Jersey to the seashore. (Seashore trains were once a thriving business around the turn of the century; Pennsy versus Reading [“RED-ing;” not “READ-ing”].)
That yard was also the location of Camden Terminal Enginehouse.
So freight-cars had to be shunted from that yard to Pavonia, and vice-versa.
This usually was done with B6 switchers like the one pictured.
We’d pass under the Camden & Amboy entering Camden, on our way to my grandparents, and a B6 would chuff overhead with a cut of cars.
Also visible is the old J.B. Van Sciver (“SKY-vrr) store — it’s over the slope-back tender.
J.B. Van Sciver was an icon of the south Jersey super-rich, a furniture-store (and manufacturer).
My mother always wanted to patronize J.B. Van Sciver, but we couldn’t afford to.
Finally we bought a small table-lamp there, maroon with a metal shade.
It looked much classier than anything else we had.
What I remember at that store was elegant brass-gated elevators with elevator-operators dressed as doormen.
An uncle used to drive delivery trucks in the ‘30s for J.B. Van Sciver; navy-blue with gold pinstriping.
A very class act paid for by extravagant pricing.
J.B. Van Sciver is gone, including the stores — I wonder if that building still stands?
The slope-back tender was a special design endemic to Pennsy switchers; steam locomotives that never went far from a water standpipe.
The tender water-cistern was sloped to enhance rearward visibility.
Sadly, I don’t think any B6s were saved, although the last Pennsy steam-engine actively under steam was a B6.
Although not Pennsy. It was leased to a north Jersey shortline; fire dropped in 1960.
Behold. (Photo by Richard Prince.)
BEHOLD! My All-Corvette calendar has a 1954 Corvette.
In 1954, Corvette was still kind of a joke.
Little more than a plastic styling exercise plunked on the humble 1953 Chevrolet sedan underpinnings.
The motor was the Stovebolt-Six (same motor used in Chevrolet sedans since 1937), although with triple side-draft two-barrel carburetion, and a high-compression cylinder-head.
It wasn’t until the fabulous Chevrolet Small-Block V8 of the 1955 model-year that Corvette began to act the part.
—And Zora Arkus-Duntov began to maximize the advantages of that motor.
But Corvette kept using the same underpinnings until the 1963 model-year, when Duntov’s baby finally reached full flower.
Gone were the humble underpinnings of the first Corvettes.
At last we had a chassis comparable to that motor, which was attractive in the 1957 Corvette (for example), but even then it wasn’t much good except in a straight line.
When I was growing up in northern Delaware, a family in our neighborhood had a 1954 Corvette.
Looked the same as this one; bathtub white (may even be that car).
The buxom daughter, who was two high-school classes ahead of me (1960), went on to become Miss Delaware, and compete in the Miss America pageant.
The family’s ‘54 Corvette reflected her personality; earnest and well-intentioned, but a bubblehead cheerleader.
Her attempts at displaying talent were laughable, comparable to the ‘54 Corvette racing. —Lots of flashy glamour, but no substance.
The first Corvettes were all over the road, and stressed the Stovebolt would blow.
P40 Kittyhawk. (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)
What have we here?
The October 2008 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar has a P40 Kittyhawk flying straight up toward a hammerhead stall.
The photograph has been rotated counterclockwise to fit the calendar, but the shadows tell me the plane is going straight up.
That tail is fully illuminated — if it were level the horizontal stabilizers would be throwing shadows.
The front of the wings, painted white, look almost like chrome in the bright sunlight.
It’s nice to see a P40 not painted in the famous Tiger Shark scheme.
The Flying Tigers were a famous squadron of P40s of the American Volunteer Group flying out of China commanded by Claire Chennault, and trained in Burma, early in World War II. They were defending China from Japanese attack.
The P40’s Allison V12, being water-cooled, has a large radiator scoop below the propeller spinner.
Shark’s teeth were painted there, since the scoop looked like a mouth.
The shark’s teeth have been painted on innumerable aircraft since, but look best on the P40.
The P40 was not the P51 Mustang, but excellent for its time. (The P40 was the first plane to exceed 300 mph in level flight.)
The P51 is essentially the P40 made into a hot-rod.
Although the P51 also had extended range.
With detachable under-wing fuel-tanks, it could accompany Allied bombers all the way into Germany (from England), and get back without running out of gas.
The P40 didn’t have that kind of range.
It also helped the P51 was all over Hitler’s Messerschmidts.
Allied bombers could complete a bomb-drop without getting shot down.
A P51 could blast enemy interceptors out of the sky, thereby protecting the bombers.
A few P40s are left (19). The 1941 Historical Aircraft Group based in nearby Geneseo had one; don’t know if they still do.
Years ago it was returning from an airshow, and the engine failed. The poor thing dropped like a stone, and had to be bellylanded in a field, landing-gear up.
As far as I know, the pilot survived, as did the plane, more-or-less. Supposedly it was repairable, but I don’t know if it was ever repaired.
I don’t think that plane had the shark’s teeth on it either.
A hot-rodded 1932 Ford two-door (“Tudor”) at Bonneville Salt Flats. (Photo by Peter Vincent.)
The October entry of my All-1932 Ford calendar is a hot-rodded 1932 Ford two-door sedan, chopped and channeled.
“Chopped” means metal has been cut out of the window-posts and rear-window surround so that the top sits lower.
This looks like a four-inch top chop.
“Channeled” means channels have been fabricated into the body floor, so the body could ride lower on the frame-rails. —The channels are six inches deep.
The end result is the most basic of hot-rods.
The two-door sedan ain’t a coupe or a roadster, but would-be hot-rodder snares a two-door sedan for peanuts, so makes a hot-rod out of it.
The car has a souped-up Studebaker V8 — strange; not the Small-Block, but ya work with what ya got.
This car reminds me of my friend Art Dana’s hot-rod; a Model-A roadster body on a modified ‘46 Ford frame with a souped-up ‘56 Pontiac V8.
It’s the essence of hot-rod; a car cobbled from various parts that sounds like a monster when lit.
It’s even painted in flat-black primer; the classic hot-rod color.
At some time or other every hot-rod ran in flat-black primer; often applied with a paint-brush, but Art’s car was sprayed.
Art has Parkinson’s, but has apparently driven it.
He complains it steers like a truck.
“That front-end is probably carrying 200 more pounds than it did originally.”
Plus, the shocks don’t do much. “The car is too light; only 2,300 pounds.”
The rear axle and suspension is stock ‘46 Ford; this calendar car has a ‘56 Chevy rear-end.
Art’s car is the original Banjo — I wonder how long it can take that Pontiac V8 before it blows?
Norfolk Southern stacker on the Lurgan branch in Huntsdale, PA. (Photo by Jim Haag.)
For October, my Norfolk Southern Employees calendar has a Norfolk Southern double-stack freight-train on the Lurgan branch in Huntsdale, PA, headed for New Jersey.
I had to look up Huntsdale in my Pennsylvania gazetteer; I’ve never heard of the “Lurgan branch.”
It looks like maybe it’s the old Reading (“RED-ing;” not “READ-ing”) line from Shippensburg to Harrisburg, part of the so-called “Alphabet Route” from Chicago to New York City.
The “Alphabet Route” was an alternative to shipping over the Pennsy, New York Central, Baltimore & Ohio or Erie; but involved a number of railroads — an “alphabet.”
Nickel Plate was part of the “alphabet;” as was Reading. South of Shippensburg was Western Maryland from Cumberland. The “alphabet” included other railroads; like the Wheeling & Lake Erie and the Pittsburgh & West Virginia. Western Maryland was Connellsville, PA to Cumberland, MD, and then back up to Shippensburg in Pennsylvania.
Connellsville was south of Pittsburgh, a WM end-point.
The Western Maryland is abandoned, as is its fabulous Connellsville Division (which paralleled the torturous Baltimore & Ohio Pittsburgh Division, which still exists as CSX).
But Cumberland was a feeder from the south. Even Pennsy built a line to Cumberland, so the “Lurgan” may actually be ex-Pennsy.
The Pennsy’s fabulous electrified New York Division became a part of Amtrak’s Northeast Corridor; so Conrail freight had to use another access to the New York City area.
So they reactivated the old Reading route from Harrisburg toward New York City. (Reading was a part of Conrail.)
But Reading used Central of New Jersey, since it ended essentially at the Pennsylvania/Jersey border.
In fact, Baltimore & Ohio used the Reading/CNJ to get to New York; it going no farther north than Philadelphia.
Pennsy used its old New York Division (now Amtrak) to move freight to the yards in New Jersey across the Hudson from New York City.
They had no direct access to New York except their tunnels under the Hudson, which weren’t large enough to clear freight-cars. (Still aren’t.)
When Conrail was broken up and sold, Norfolk Southern got the old Pennsy line to Harrisburg, and the old Reading/CNJ line to New York City. (That was what Conrail was using; no longer having the Corridor, which had become Amtrak.)
The lack of direct railroad freight access into New York City is worked around by “rubbering” on trucks, and ferrying the rest.
CSX apparently has back-door access into New York City, but the old New York Central mainline is now the Metro-North commuter railroad.
CSX got the old New York Central lines north of Poughkeepsie when Conrail was sold.
The old railroad north from Cumberland is still quite active, as this calendar depicts.
Freight from Kentucky, Tennessee, Louisiana and Alabama to New York City still uses the line north out of Cumberland.
The October entry of my Three Stooges calendar is almost as stupid as the September entry; another movie-clip, this time of law-officers hoisting the Stooges from a park-bench on a city street.
If I am correct, most of the Stooges movies were made in the ‘30s.
They sure look it. Many of the cars are late ‘20s and early ‘30s. In many movies the Stooges are victims of the Great Depression.
So one wonders if any of these guys are still alive.
All the Stooges are dead.
Moe lasted the longest, dying in 1975 at age 77.
Larry died in early 1975 at age 72. He’d had a stroke five years earlier, and never performed after that.
Larry is the only Stooge not part of the Horowitz family. —Moe is Moses Horowitz and Curly is Jerome Lester Horowitz.
Curly, the youngest Horowitz, died at only age 48 in 1952, also of a stroke.
His life had been a mess; four wives and declining health.
It’s too bad, since Curly is the essence of Stoogedom.
That leaves the actors playing the police-officers.
But they look to be in their 40s, so they’re probably gone too.
I also had a stroke — in fact, this past October 26 was the 15-year anniversary of my stroke.
For clarification, a stroke is when blood is cut off to the brain, either by blockage (clot) or burst blood-vessel (aneurysm), so that the part of the brain cut off dies.
Well, apparently what blockage occurred (mine was a clot) didn’t cut off heart or lung function, so I’m still here.
But it did leave the whole left side of my body limp and dysfunctional (paralyzed).
But even after a stroke, a lot of live brain-tissue is still left, enough to pick up doing what the killed part did — like my limp left-side.
Apparently my speech-center was killed, so that another part of my brain, that wasn’t designed for speech, is assembling all the words for speech.
My speech is compromised — hesitancy, stuttering, and the wrong words often spill out.
I can get by, but I let my wife do the speaking for me.
Last August, I stayed alone at a Bed & Breakfast near the mighty Curve.
One afternoon on returning I found their tiny parking-lot filled, so had to park elsewhere out in the street.
I walked back to the Bed & Breakfast and the jammed parking-lot was filled with patrons.
My hesitancy and inability to get the right words out was perceived as anger.
I’m sure if my wife had been along, a confrontation wouldn’t have occurred.
Pennsy K4 Pacific with the “Fort Dearborn” passenger-train in 1933 on the Rockville Bridge. (Photo by Otto Perry©.)
The October photo of my Audio-Visual Designs black & white All-Pennsy calendar is nothing special — I almost skipped it — one of Otto Perry’s infamous shots done the ‘30s.
Most of Perry’s photos found their way into the Western History Collection at the Denver Public Library (that’s Denver, CO).
It’s a Pennsy passenger-train on the railroad’s fantastic Rockville Bridge over the Susquehanna river north of Harrisburg, Pa.
I’ve yet to understand how this photo fits a Western History Collection, since Pennsy is back east.
This picture was probably taken with the precursor to the old Graflex press cameras used in the ‘50s.
They were semi-portable, using HUGE 4x5-inch negatives.
But it doesn’t appear to be focal-plane shutter: passing a tiny slit over the negative top-to-bottom to let light in.
To get the kind of speed needed to stop a train, cameras resorted to focal-plane shutters, since the shutter behind the lens usually only achieved 1/125th or so.
With a focal-plane shutter you could achieve 1/1000th or so.
But passing a tiny slit over such a large negative distorted the image. The train would advance forward during exposure so that the train seemed to be leaning forward at the top.
And you’d never know this train is on Rockville Bridge.
Rockville Bridge (or Rockville Bridge) is a giant structure, Pennsy’s crossing of the north-south Susquehanna River north of Harrisburg.
The bridge pictured — which is also the current bridge — is a giant structure of 48 continuous 70-foot stone arches, opened in 1902, that would support four tracks.
It effectively blocks navigation, although the Susquehanna is too shallow to be navigable by deep-draft ships. (A dam was built downstream later.)
Iteration number-one, built with the railroad about 1849, was wood, having only one track.
Iteration number-two replaced number-one, and was cast iron. It supported two tracks.
By iteration number-three, the Pennsy was on both sides of the river at Harrisburg, but Rockville was their mainline.
The Rockville also supported freight up toward Williamsport. (The original Northern Central bridge had been removed, and Pennsy had also bought the Northern Central.)
Rockville was reduced to three tracks in the ‘80s, and then to just two in the late ‘90s after a shipping container blew off a train into the river.
The two remaining tracks are centered in the bridge, so that a loose container won’t blow into the river.
Two tracks is probably enough; it’s two tracks all the way to Altoona across Pennsylvania, although just two tracks could be a bottleneck to heavy traffic.
Rockville Bridge was named to the National Register of Historic Places in 1975.
The photo was shot in 1933, which means the K4 Pacific (4-6-2) doesn’t yet have the infamous “beauty-treatment” that was installed later.
The “beauty-treatment” was to relocate the headlight and generator to make generator service easier. It also included replacing the beautiful slatted pilot (the cowcatcher) with a heavy cast-steel pilot with a folding coupler.
The headlight was centered atop the smokebox in front of the stack, and the generator was located on the smokebox front, with a platform underneath.
Doing this degraded the beautiful appearance of the original Pennsy K4s, but they still had the beautiful red keystone number-plate.
Just about every Pennsy steam-locomotive got the “beauty-treatment” except the E6 Atlantics (4-4-2).
The E6 maintained the headlight on the smokebox-front, and the slatted cowcatcher — the original locations. I used to prefer the E6’s appearance compared to the K4 when I saw both as a child on the PRSL. —Although it was a minor consideration — most beautiful was that gorgeous red keystone number-plate; and both had it.
“Pennsy” is the Pennsylvania Railroad, no longer in existence. It merged with New York Central Railroad in 1968 as Penn-Central, and that tanked in about eight years. “Pennsy” was once the largest railroad in the world.
A “turntable” is a bridge that rotated in a circular pit. Railroad-tracks were atop the turntable. A railroad locomotive could be positioned on the turntable, and then rotated toward a track going into storage; often a “roundhouse,” which had tracks that spoked off the turntable. The only way those tracks could be accessed was with the turntable. Turntables were often electrically rotated, or by compressed-air motors, although if the turntable was small enough, and the locomotive light enough, and could be balanced, such a turntable was often rotated by hand (“strongarm”).
“Seashore” is just that, the place where the Atlantic Ocean meets the land of New Jersey. Locally it was known as “duh SHOW-uh.”
The Chevrolet overhead-valve inline “Stovebolt-six” was introduced in the 1929 model-year at 194+ cubic inches. It continued production for years, upgraded to four main bearings (from three) for the 1937 model-year. In 1950 the Stovebolt was upsized to 235.5 cubic inches (from 216), and later upgrades included full-pressure lubrication and hydraulic (as opposed to mechanical) valve-tappets. The Stovebolt was produced clear through the 1963 model-year, but replaced with a new seven-main bearing (as opposed to less — like four) inline-six engine in the 1964 model-year. The Stovebolt was also known as “the cast-iron wonder;” called the “Stovebolt” because various bolts could be replaced by stuff from the corner hardware.
“Triple side-draft two-barrel carburetion” is three side-draft two-barrel carburetors. (Carburetors usually had one or two or four mixing-chambers [“barrels”].) Most engines only had one carburetor — multiple carburetion improved engine-breathing, and increased power output. “Side-draft” is horizontal air-flow; most carburetors were vertical, up or down. The early Stovebolt Corvettes had added carburetion to increase performance.
The Chevrolet “Small-Block” V8 was introduced at 265 cubic-inches displacement in the 1955 model-year. It continued production for years, first at 283 cubic inches, then 327, then 350. Other displacements were also manufactured. The Chevrolet “Big-Block” V8 was introduced in the 1965 model-year at 396 cubic-inches, and was unrelated to the Small-Block. It was made in various larger displacements: 402, 427 and 454 cubic inches. It’s still made as a truck-motor, but not installed in cars any more; although you can get it as a crate-motor, for self-installation.
A “hammerhead stall” is when the airplane flies straight up until it’s propulsion can no longer advance the airplane, and it falls over out of its climb.
Most airplanes have at least three tail-surfaces. The vertical is the rudder, and the other two are both horizontal. The P40 has two “horizontal stabilizers.”—Some airplanes have multiple stabilizers. (E.g. the Lockheed Constellation has three rudders.)
“Geneseo” is a small town south of Rochester.
“Bonneville Salt-flats,” next to Great Salt Lake in Utah, is a vast open flat area where top-speed runs can be made.
“Art Dana” is a retired bus-driver like me. (For 16&1/2 years [1977-1993] I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service, the transit-bus operator in Rochester, N.Y.) Dana started before I did; and is an old hot-rodder.
“Shocks” are shock-absorbers.
A “Banjo” rear-end is the rear-axle made and used for years by Ford. It was called that because the center-section looked like a banjo.
“Norfolk Southern” is Norfolk Southern Railroad, a merger of Norfolk & Western and Southern Railway about 20+ years ago. NS has since acquired other railroads, namely all the old Pennsy lines of Conrail. (“Conrail” is a government amalgamation of east-coast railroads that went bankrupt pretty much at the same time as Penn-Central, a merger of the Pennsylvania Railroad and New York Central. Conrail included other bankrupt east-coast railroads, like Erie-Lackawanna and Lehigh Valley; but eventually went private as it became more successful. Conrail has since been broken up, sold to CSX Transportation Industries (railroad) and Norfolk Southern railroad. CSX got mainly the old New York Central routes, and NS got the old PRR routes.) —NS is now a major player in east-coast railroading.
“Stacker” is the nickname for freight-trains of shipping containers stacked two-high on flatcars: a “double-stack.” —Double-stacking has become the norm for railroading shipping containers, although the double-stacked containers can’t have trailer-wheels, and need super-high clearance. (Tunnels had to be enlarged to clear double-stacks.)
“Pennsy, New York Central, Baltimore & Ohio or Erie” are all railroads continuous from the midwest to the east coast. As continuous routes they charged more than the “alphabet” lines. B&O and Erie no longer exist, although B&O is now part of CSX Transportation, and the old Erie line in NY state is now Norfolk Southern. Pennsy and NYC merged as Penn-Central, but that tanked (see above), and became part of Conrail, which has since been broken up between CSX and Norfolk Southern.
“Nickel Plate” is the New York, Chicago & St. Louis Railroad, called the “Nickel Plate” long ago by a New York Central executive because it was so competitive. The railroad eventually renamed itself the “Nickel Plate.” Norfolk & Western Railroad bought the Nickel Plate years ago, and N&W has since merged with Southern Railway, to become Norfolk Southern. Nickel Plate never actually attained New York city; it stopped at Buffalo.
The “K4 Pacific” (4-6-2) was the Pennsylvania Railroad’s standard steam passenger locomotive for many years. It was a little behind the times compared to other railroad’s passenger power, but could doubleheaded to convey increased loads. Doubleheading is expensive, since two separate crews are needed (steamers can’t be MU-ed [multiple-unit; by jumper-cables] like diesel locomotives), but Pennsy could afford it. (The K4 was a late ‘teens design.)
The “mighty Curve” (“Horseshoe Curve”), west of Altoona, Pennsylvania, is by far the BEST railfan spot I have ever been to. Horseshoe Curve is a national historic site. It was a trick used by the Pennsylvania Railroad to get over the Allegheny mountains without steep grades. Horseshoe Curve was opened in 1854, and is still in use. (I am a railfan, and have been since I was a child.)
“Northern Central” was a railroad built north from Baltimore into New York, via Williamsport and Elmira. It was eventually got by Pennsy, although much of it has since been abandoned. (NC had its own bridge over the Susquehanna at first, but it was removed when trains switched over to using the nearby Rockville Bridge.)
“PRSL” (Pennsylvania-Reading [‘RED-ing,’ not ‘READ-ing’] Seashore Lines) is an amalgamation of Pennsylvania and Reading railroad-lines in south Jersey to counter the fact the two railroads had too much track. It was promulgated in 1933. It serviced mainly the Jersey seashore from Philadelphia.
Labels: Monthly Calendar Report
