When Steam was King
by Jack Ward Skinner
When we were kids, my cousin, Dick, and I would dream about what we wanted to do when we ‘got big’. I wanted to be a train engineer and Dick wanted to be a pilot. Eventually, his dream came true, as he became a Captain for Delta Airlines, and flew all over the world. Sadly, my dream never came true. I never worked for the railroad, but I still love those old trains, even today.
Up until I was 6-years old, my family lived in St. Louis. It was the middle of the Great Depression, and there was very little my family could afford for entertainment. We would go to the Muny Opera and sit in the free seats in the back. Movies were only a quarter for adults and ten cents for kids, so I got to see all the Disney cartoons in their original presentations. It was common to go for a drive in the country side on weekends.
But my 2 favorite places were Lambert Field and the railroad station, Union Station, down town.
Back then, Lambert was the old, yellow brick building that can be seen across the landing strips from the current Lambert field. We would drive through several miles of country, across St. Louis County (at that time) to get to the airport. Nothing then, but farm fields. This was still the days when, if you heard the noise of an airplane overhead, everyone ran outside to see it. At Lambert, there were no restrictions back then, and we could walk right in to the hangers and touch the planes.
But, as much as those planes were a thrill, my heart still longed for the old steam engines. So, sometimes we would go to Union Station, the railroad station down town. There was a lot of hustle-and-bustle inside the station. People arriving, and some were leaving. And I so envied them. We could move right up to the windows on one side of the station and see the trains up close.
But then, the War started, and we moved to Fredericktown. We lived on High Street, and I could not see any trains from there, but I knew one ran through town sometimes, because I could hear the whistle. Then, in 1948, we moved just East of town. Now, that house sits on a knoll, next to the newer Shoe Factory. The most prominent landmark is the concrete garage built back into the ground in front of the house. Back in 1948, there was nothing around us but open fields on all sides. We had an orchard behind our house, then there was an open field, and next, the railroad tracks. Plus, to the East, were the tracks and a wooden trestle for the train to go over to National Lead Mines. And my love was rekindled for the steam engines. I could wave at the engineers from my house, and they would wave back. When I got a little older, I would ride my bike into town, and go over to the rail Depot and watch the trains up close.
And then, the thrill of a lifetime. It was 1943. Dad was gone to the War, and his parents still lived in Knob Lick. And Mother and I would go up to visit them. But gasoline was rationed, so we did not drive the car very much. Twice, before the Grandparents moved to St. Louis, Mom and I got a taxi on Friday evening, and went over to the train depot. We caught the “Old Local” and rode it to Knob Lick. It was a freight train with one passenger car on the end. I can’t describe the trill I had when first I climbed up those steps on the passenger car. Then, we opened the door, and there was a row of seats on both sides of the aisle. We picked a seat and, naturally, I got to sit next to the window. I was busy looking all around the inside of the car, when there was a sudden jolt, and we began to move. It was slow at first, then a moderate speed and we moved through North Town. The whistle blew as we crossed the street next to the coal station. And then, we were out of town, and really began picking up speed. Soon, we were crossing over a bridge. I looked away down and there was a small river. Mother said that was the Little St. Francois River. Little did I know that there would be a lake there one day. Then, we were rumbling through the country side, with trees and farms on both sides.
All too soon, I heard the whistle blow again and we started slowing down. I began seeing houses and knew this must be Knob Lick. And there! There was Grandpa and Ma Skinner’s house. We pulled on up to the freight depot, the only depot in Knob Lick, and stopped. Mother grabbed our small suit case, and we climbed down off the train. Wow! Now I could say I had actually ridden on a train.
When I was a little older, I saved my money and bought a Brownie Hawkeye camera. Then, I would ride my bike over to the depot and take pictures. I would try to stand fairly close to the rails, and get a picture of the huge, steam-belching, metal-clanking engine as it passed by. I got pictures of the train, standing still, and moving. I took pictures of the water tower in North Town. I got a picture of the train, crossing the trestle, going to the mines. Any thing I could do to get pictures, or just be near, one of those glorious steam engines. Oh, I longed to be the engineer, sitting up there in that cab.
The “Old Local” did quite a bit of shuffling around on the morning trip south, when it pulled into Fredericktown. There were several sidings. One of the busier ones was a line, back past the old shoe factory building (now a farm supply building), across N. Mine La Motte and into the buildings of the Fredericktown Milling Company. Another spur backed into the Sinclair Oil storage tanks. In North Town, the original, wooden depot still stood, across the street from 3 grocery stores: Red & White, Kinders and the Depot Store. Farther down the street was the Farmer’s Warehouse and two lumber companies, Gifford’s and Revelle’s. Stretched between these buildings were several sidings with cars to haul various supplies needed in town.
If the morning train needed to go to National Lead, it would leave the rest of the cars in town, travel south to the “Buckeye Switch”, back over to the mines and deliver its load. If it did this of an evening, going north, the train would stop south of town, make a flying switch to get the needed car in front, then push it over to the mines.
Another thrill was, usually, in the spring, when the Mississippi River was up and covered the tracks along the river in Ste. Genevieve. Then, the “Big” freights would be routed through Fredericktown. These were long trains and heavy trains. They had to travel slow, because the rails on the Belmont Branch were not heavy enough for that kind of traffic.
And then, I began hearing about a new engine. A diesel engine. Eventually, one came through Fredericktown during one of the floods. Actually, there were several, every day for a while. And one time, one of the Eagles, a passenger train came through, and it stopped behind our house. The only signals available at that time was the telegraph. With the extra trains, they had to be cautious with on-coming trains. When the on-coming train pulled onto a siding, then the passenger train got to move forward, again.
Eventually, even a diesel took over the job of the “Old Local”. Though far more efficient than the old steam engine, they certainly were not as romantic.
Even today, the Union Pacific, occasionally, breaks out their “Big Boy” and lets it run the tracks. And you will find the highways that run parallel to the tracks, lined with cars, and people want to see this huge, powerful, steam engine, barreling down the tracks.
So, I believe that the old steam engine is still king, if not on the rails, and least in the hearts of many Americans. I just wish my kids, and my grandkids could have seen the sights that I saw, “When Steam Was King.”