'Let us return to the glorious days of yesteryear' - as they used to say
in the opening of the Lone Ranger radio show - does this show my age???
As a child growing up in the small town of West Pittston, Pa. and
liking trains, the usual venue for trainwatching was the DL&Ws heavily used
Northumberland branch (Scranton to Northumberland, Pa.) which ran through my
hometown on a doubletracked line that in 1949 had 2 passenger trains a day
and 2 freight trains the length of the line. There were several local
freights and numerous coal trains from Kingston to Scranton as well as the
many empty coalcars returning to be refilled at the mines. It was all steam
powered and an inspiring sight indeed to a 12 year-old. At the Susquehanna
river, the line went from 2 to 1 track for the single-tracked river bridge
to the east side where the DL&W crossed the Lehigh Valley's mainline at an
interlocking tower known as Pittston Junction. This was very attractive to
me since the tower operator would let me sit (quietly) and watch him take
trainorders or converse with the DL&W dispatcher in Scranton or the Lehigh
Valley dispatcher in the ornate victorian-era station in Wilkes-Barre. If I
was really lucky, I'd see one of the Lehigh Valley passenger trains pass
pulled by a streamliined steam engine or a brand-new diesel..........no old
pufferbellies here like on the DL&W.
All good things must end, though, and I was mindful that I had to be
home in time for supper.
This presented a problem in that the nearest regular bridges were in uptown
Pittston and if I walked the mile or 2 up there, I'd surely be late and in
for serious punishment since dad had forbidden me to 'hang around the
railroads'. No problem here - I'd simply walk the hundred yards or so and
hippity-hop on the crossties of the single-track bridge (no walkway here) to
West Pittston thence up York avenue a few blocks & home. It was around
Easter & the old river was pretty high and at each pier I was treated to the
roaring and whirlpools of the frothing waters which encouraged me to step
carefully. About 2 or 3 piers out, it began to rain and looking up the
valley I could see low, swirling clouds entering the valley from the north
and the wind really picked up which made me decide to get down & CRAWL lest
I be blown off the bridge. This gave a real close-up of the angry waters &
at each pier an extra thrill from the sound-effects as the water parted
around the old stones of the piers. Ocasionallly a large branch would go by,
dipping & twisting in the current. I didn't even think of what would happen
if a train came at that point but I CAN tell you I was very happy to come to
the abutment on the West Pittston side and scramble off the tracks.
I now did an assessment of my misadventure. I was soaked to the skin,
my shoes were all scuffed from the crawl (scuffed shoes were a big no-no,
showing carelessness of my belongings) AND the creosote from the crossties
on the bridge was on my shirt & dungarees. I trudged off up the road & upon
entering the house heard my mother yell "Walter!! Where have you been? Look
at your shoes, look at your clothes, your father will hear about this!!" I
said "I was just out playing, mom." I guess mom didn't understand what the
creosote was or where it came from - Thank Heaven!
Later, when I realized my childhood ambition and worked as an engineer
I ran trains over that bridge but I still have nightmares about it. I'm
amazed the old thing is still standing since it was built (I believe) in the
1890s. The Susquehanna in the summer gives the appearance of a placid
trickle, but in the winte, spring or fall, it can go on a real rampage.
Regards to all,
Walter E. Smith
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