The Trackside Photographer is pleased to present a new gallery of photographs by Eric Gagnon.
Prairie Elegy documents the final days of Western Canada’s Wooden Crib Grain Elevators. These evocative pictures record a time 30 years ago when the iconic structures were disappearing from the prairie landscape.
Eric wrote about his trip in “Wheat Filled Wonders” which we published in June. Now he generously shares 43 additional photos taken during the 1980’s as he traveled across Saskatchewan and Manitoba, following the tracks of the Canadian Pacific and Canadian National railroads that served the grain industry. The wooden elevators are now gone.
Prairie Elegy is listed under the Galleries menu at the top of the page, or click here to view.
During a visit to Mississippi in the spring of 2013, I visited the small, out of the way, town of Bude which is about halfway between Brookhaven, MS and Natchez, MS. Bude was once a bustling railroad town built around a large sawmill. Today there is not much left but a sleepy main street and the old train depot.
Former Mississippi Central Depot, Bude Mississippi
The Natchez Railway, which provides service between Natchez and Brookhaven, passes through Bude and interchanges with the Canadian National in Brookhaven.
Former Illinois Central Gulf caboose 9452, built in 1970, was used as the yard office in Gloster, Mississippi for the Gloster Southern Railroad. It was moved to Bude in 2011 and is used as the Natchez Railway yard office.
History of Bude
Depot, Bude, Mississippi – Courtesy of the Mississippi Department of Archives and History
Founded in February, 1912 the Homochitto Lumber Company bought up vast tracts of timber in Franklin, Amite and Adams counties and selected a mill site in Franklin county. The town of Bude grew up around the new mill, which employed 800 people when it opened in 1913. The town continued to grow, attracting many businesses and stores including a Ford dealership, a theater, and a bowling alley. In 1936, the timber was cut out, the sawmill closed and Bude began its long decline.
The historic photos below are used with the kind permission of Mississippi Rails, a website devoted to the history of railroads in Mississippi. Many additional period photographs and a detailed history of Bude and the sawmill are available on their Homochitto Lumber Company page.
A passenger train arrives at the Mississippi Central depot in Bude.The mill, the depot and the town of Bude from the air in 1920.
After the Homochitto Lumber Company closed down in 1936, the town of Bude was deprived of its primary source of employment and prosperity. It was not unusual for towns to spring up and then disappear as vast tracts of cypress and southern yellow pine in the Southern Timber Belt were logged.
Bude fared better than many former sawmill towns. Today there are still a few stores along Bude’s main street and the town is neat and well maintained. American Railcar Industries operates a repair facility in Bude.
Although the Homochitto Lumber Company brought Bude into existence in 1913, the railroad was a necessary ingredient in the town’s success and the railroad plays a key role in sustaining the town into the 21st century. Photographs from the early years of the 20th century are a stark contrast to a modern view of the town, but the railroad still runs through Bude, and the depot still stands as a reminder of better days.
An old freight wagon waits in the shadow of the empty depot.
The Eads Bridge in Saint Louis, Missouri crosses the Mighty Mississippi in the shadow of the Gateway Arch, and is one of the most iconic bridges in the United States. In addition to being the oldest bridge across the Mississippi at St. Louis, it continues to serve significant commuter rail traffic between East St. Louis and St. Louis.
The bridge was first conceived in 1867, with construction beginning the same year. James B. Eads was chosen to design the bridge. Although he had no prior experience in bridge building, all parties involved felt confident he could restore St. Louis to its former glory with the new bridge. The first challenge was the regulations of the Mississippi River. Steamboat Companies set unheard of restrictions for bridge building, which would require the radical design that exists today. The design chosen was an arch, with three spans. These arches would be constructed of iron tubes, and set upon masonry piers and abutments. The Keystone Bridge Company did the fabrication for the owner, the Illinois & St. Louis Bridge Company.
Once construction began, the bridge would see an immense number of challenges. The first involved the depth in which the piles would be driven. Caissons were driven nearly 100 feet below the river surface. The process by which this happened killed 13 men, and paralyzed another 2. It involved putting compressed air in the caisson, and filling it with stone until bedrock could be hit. In addition, once work on the arches began, the superstructure could not be constructed with falsework. Instead, a cantilevered technique was used which involved “launching” from the piers. The spans would meet and be completed in the middle. On July 4th, 1874 the bridge was dedicated. President Ulysses S. Grant dedicated the bridge, while General William T. Sherman drove the golden spike. The bridge was constructed with two decks, one for rail and one for road. The approaches consisted of stone arches of various sizes and shapes.
Despite the accomplishments and achievements of the bridge, it was bankrupt within the year. Railroads boycotted the bridge because of poor planning and access to it. When the bridge was finally sold to the Merchants Exchange during bankruptcy, it went for about 1/5 of the original estimated worth. This caused the Bank of Missouri to fold, and led to the indictment of several officials involved with the bridge. However, Eads did not face trouble.
The Merchants Exchange eventually lost control of the bridge to the Terminal Railroad Association in the late 1880s. Fearing a monopoly of the river crossings, this led to the construction of the equally impressive Merchants Bridge upstream.
Modified arch – Eads Bridge – St. Louis, Missouri
By the 1970s, the rail deck would be abandoned and unused. In 1989, the bridge was exchanged for the MacArthur Bridge downstream with the City of St. Louis. Modern trains were too large for both the bridge and approach tunnels. However, in 1993, the MetroLink Light Rail began operations on this corridor. This put the bridge back into service for rail traffic. At the same time, the road deck was closed for reconstruction. It reopened in 2003.
West Approach – Eads Bridge – St. Louis, Missouri
In 2016, the bridge is considered to be one of the most significant engineering achievements ever. The largest arch is 533 feet long, nearly 200 feet longer than the previous longest arch. The caisson construction also was highly significant. Because of the bridge’s historic importance, it was dedicated as a National Historic Landmark in 1964, and added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1966. Despite all the recognition, it has been renovated many times. Some of the original stone arch approaches have been replaced with newer spans, such as girders. The original highway approaches have been replaced as well. In addition, the bridge is undergoing another reconstruction in 2016.
Inside station – The Eads Bridge – St. Louis, Missouri
Today it remains one of the strongest and most significant bridges ever built. It presently carries two tracks of MetroLink, with stations on both the west and east end. The bridge is one of the most iconic structures in the area, and perfectly complements the area down by the Gateway Arch.
It starts with the sound of a horn in the distance and the gleam of an approaching headlight. Suddenly, you are in the presence of huge thundering, fast moving machinery. In just a few seconds, the locomotive has passed by and you watch until the EOT marker has disappeared around the next curve. Photographing trains is fun and exciting; waiting for trains—not so much.
In December, 2015, I was on the platform of the former B&O station at Harper's Ferry, West Virginia, staring across the Potomac river and hoping for a train to emerge from the tunnel on the other side. With nothing much to do while I waited, I took photos of the station, the railroad bridge, the tunnel portal, and an old passenger shelter across the tracks from the station. The train never did show up, and I finally gave up. Evening was coming on and it was getting cold.
I came home with no train pictures. That happens quite often, but I enjoy exploring the railroad landscape, and if a train comes along, it's a bonus. There are great photographic opportunities along the tracks even if the train never arrives. This is the simple idea behind The Trackside Photographer.
So, the next time you are trackside waiting for that train, take a close look at the railroad landscape. You might be surprised at what you find. Take a picture and send it to us for The Trackside Gallery. We would love to hear from you.
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The Center for Railroad Photography & Art recently announced the 2016 John E. Gruber Creative Photography Awards program. This year, there are two categories: one for “Exceptional images from mobile device cameras” and one for “Most evocative images by living photographers.” The contest is open to all, there are no entry fees and no limit on when the photographs were taken. If you are interested, more details may be found on their website.
Edd Fuller, Editor
Your thoughts and comments are welcome.
Completion of Southern Pacific’s San Joaquin line in 1876 was Los Angeles’ first rail connection to the rest of the country. It required a 6976 foot tunnel between the Santa Clarita and San Fernando valleys.
I photographed the west end of the tunnel (by timetable direction) on the afternoon of February 9, 1971. Why this date? Early that morning the 6.6 magnitude Sylmar Earthquake caused major damage in the area, killing 44 people. I drove up to see how the tunnel had held up, and the view through it correctly indicated there were no problems.
However, just past the far end of the tunnel, the interchanges of Interstate 5 with Interstate 210 and California Highway 14, then under construction, had collapsed on the tracks.
Sylmar, California – February 11, 1971
The railroad was back in service in a few days, but the highway bridges took over a year to rebuild, with strengthened columns.
History repeated itself in 1994 when the Northridge Earthquake again caused bridge collapses at the interchange. The road closures resulted in a major increase in Metrolink service on what was now their Antelope Valley Line, and this increased service remains today.
Winslow Junction is located at the edge of the New Jersey Pine Barrens almost exactly half way between Philadelphia and the resorts in Atlantic City. The site is surprisingly rural for something set in the most densely populated area of the United States. However, 100 years ago Winslow Junction could boast some of the highest traffic densities in the world as two railroads competed to bring millions of middle and working class passengers to the fun and leisure of the New Jersey shore.
In the few decades between the time when workers developed the ability to enjoy leisure time in the late 19th century, and when private automobiles and inexpensive air travel expanded their options in the mid 20th, Atlantic City was one of several resort cities that owed their fortunes to efficient rail transport. Like Brighton Beach, New York and Brighton, England, Atlantic City relied on a conveyor belt-like system of trains that whisked holiday seekers from the urban core to the beach in the brief period when they were released from their jobs. Winslow Junction sat at the nexus of this system, located at the point where the Central Railroad of New Jersey’s Southern Division crossed both the Camden and Atlantic (PRR) and Atlantic City Railroad (Reading) main lines. It was also the point where the ACRR’s Cape May branch split off from their Main Line with additional connections to the CNJ for its famed “Blue Comet” express service to New York City.
WINSLOW interlocking as it existed in 1968 after the initial round of cuts.
Improving road transport brought rapid change to the Atlantic City travel market and in 1933 the competing Pennsylvania Railroad and Reading System operations were merged into the Pennsylvania-Reading Seashore Lines. In 1934 the state of the art WINSLOW tower and its associated interlocking was constructed to bind the system together at its nexus point, replacing older mechanical towers and antiquated signaling. The air operated switches and cab signals were installed on over 5 route miles of track, all controlled from a single power interlocking machine in a brand new brick tower.
However the story of Winslow Junction from then on would be mostly one of decline. As Atlantic City faded, tracks were cut back and the main lines were downgraded. Finally, in 1983. passenger service to the shore was suspended and the interlocking plant in the middle of the Jersey pines was shuttered for good. Fortunately, state ownership meant that the artifacts were largely left in place. Reconstruction of the Atlantic City rail line in 1989 swept away some of the decay, but the tower’s unbroken windows still let in sunlight to shine on the Model 14 interlocking machine for nearly 20 years before they were boarded up.
Winslow Tower northbound with its replacement, NJT’s SOUTH WINS interlocking.
The main line to Atlantic City that in its heyday hosted the fastest scheduled passenger train service in the world is now a single track line with short passing sidings and a top speed of 80mph. The interlocking that remains in sight of the tower is just a single crossover at the south end of one of those sidings. The former southward main is now just a glorified storage track, albeit one sporting 136lb main line rail with some joints still still paper thin.
Rusted 6-bolt main line rail on the storage siding.
Year by year, bit by bit, more of Winslow’s history succumbs to collectors, vandals and nature. The telegraph poles have fallen to those interested in the copper wire or blue glass insulators. The power supply was bulldozed for PCB remediation and even the half mile long ramp for the Cap May flyover was completely harvested for its supply of high quality construction sand.
Cape May Branch flyover, abandoned in the late 1950’s as shore traffic declined.
If anything, Winslow Junction is a testament to the force of nature to reclaim that which humanity tried to assert its dominance over.
A PRR style signal ladder is all that remains of the 10L signal on the flyover bridge.
At the same time it is a testament to those materials of the analogue age that continue to resist the forces of nature, decades after being left to fend for themselves. Creosoted wooden ties, lead painted pipelines and even rust covered structural steel still stand strong.
Lower head of old 8L signal
Many of the classic PRR position light signals at Winslow Junction were salvaged by local railroad enthusiasts during the Amtrak rebuilding project in the late 1980’s, however the former 8L signal stationed at the south junction of the connector track was rolled down the embankment to fade away.
Abandoned Maintenance of Way flatcar
The track connecting the former Atlantic City Line to what became the Conrail Beesley’s Point freight line saw a brief resurgence after the tower was closed as it was the only way that Atlantic City bound freight traffic could access the line after the portion between the Delair Bridge and Winslow Junction was taken out of service. When the line was rebuilt the interchange moved to SOUTH WINS interlocking and the S-curving connector was left to the weeds. In addition to the rails, this NJT friction bearing M of W flatcar found itself stuck in time.
The 1934 southbound P-RSL Cape May ramp ducks under the older connection between Reading and PRR main lines. The pipe carried the compressed air supply to the south end of the interlocking plant.
Winslow Junction was built with no fewer than 6 rail-rail overpasses to allow movements to pass by each other without conflict. This amount of “flight” is typically reserved for busy urban junctions like Zoo, Harold or Jamaica. Elsewhere in the country, junctions similar to Winslow would have consisted of flat switches and diamond crossings.
Winslow air line near the top of the Blue Comet ramp.
The air for the switches was supplied by nearly 2.5 miles of pipeline, originating at WINSLOW tower and then following the CNJ Blue Comet connection up to the ACRR junction before splitting, with one line continuing down the Cape May branch and the other using the connecting track to serve the switches around the flyover bridge on the former PRR main line. Most of this impressive compressed air system was left in place where it is slowly being covered by leaves and vegetation.
Air line running along the shoulder of the county road close to the tower.
Surprisingly this isn’t the only abandoned pipeline at Winslow Junction. On the remaining connecting track between the CNJ and Reading are a collection of concrete blocks dating from before even the depression era WINSLOW tower. These are foundations for the mechanical pipes that ran from the original ACRR Winslow Jct tower to switches and signals on the CNJ connection.
Concrete footings for a mechanical pipeline run down the CNJ connection to the location of the former wye switch where footings for old signals can also be found. While somewhat common overseas, the last mechanical lever operated switch machine in North America was retired in 2010.Pipeline footings pointing towards the remains of the old ACRR Winslow Jct tower.
Nearly invisible from the track and ensconced in a thicket of brambles and weeds, the foundation for the 1890’s vintage Reading owned ACRR tower can still be found. The upper level was razed in 1934; the basement continued to be used as a remote relay room and possibly as a secondary air compressor station. Today, still water tight, it is used as a clubhouse for local teens, looking to consume adult beverages away from the prying eyes of adults.
Winslow Junction is a double accident of history. Constructed in the middle of nowhere to take the masses to the shore in the pre-auto era, it was left to fade away due to having become the ward of a state that couldn’t be bothered to properly dispose of it. Hopefully its secrets will linger on to inspire future generations of trackside explorers.
(All photographs were taken in November, 2015. Click here to view additional photos from Winslow Junction.}
