When you live up on a hill above the river and the city stretches out below, there’s a few sounds you get used to, like auto noise from the freeway, the scream of late night motorcycle races, planes, helicopters, trains and on Sunday mornings, the sound of church bells. There are at least half a dozen churches within hearing distance and all ring their bells on the sabbath day. Easter in 2020, of course, was very different what with most of them closed due to “the Covid” as it is known around here. No bells were heard, and an eerie silence pervaded.

What does this have to do with trains, you say? Well, on this Easter morning about the only thing to be heard other than the birdsong in the neighborhood was a train horn from across the river as an Allegheny Valley Railroad crew headed to the Norfolk Southern. The AVR runs out of Glenwood yard, west, over a connector, built for AMTRAK many years ago, which allowed them to move from the old B&O to the former PRR mainline. They were stopped, awaiting a signal, and sat and sat. Curious as to why (they usually get permission to head west without getting a stop signal at “Bloom”), I headed over to find the crew staring at a red signal. It was just three light motors awaiting a run to pick up interchange at Island Avenue yard on the northside of Pittsburgh.

Being patient paid off, as an NS train of empty oil cans soon drifted downgrade, heading back west for a refill. Figuring it might be a good day to explore, I went west myself through the mostly deserted streets. With no church services and no stores open you could pretty much do what you wanted, and I found a spot next to a closed Audi dealer to set up shop. No one to bother you, no police or security forces to give you the evil eye and again nothing but quiet—what a strange holiday!

The crew finally rolled on by towards Pittsburgh station and this made for a couple of nice pictures with the city as a backdrop. Since I had the streets pretty much to myself, I followed them over to West Park in the city—this would normally be impossible due to traffic, but I WAS the traffic. Over at the park, there is a bridge—closed to cars—which is a good shooting platform and I took advantage of it. I arrived with ample time and took a couple shots before heading back to the car.

As I walked back through the quiet park, I did hear one familiar sound that always makes me happy—the chirp of a squirrel. He came down from the tree he was in to try to get a handout, but I had nothing for him. We both went on our way through the quiet city.

Kevin N. Tomasic – Photographs and text Copyright 2021