If we want more young people to be attracted to railroad preservation (or any hobby) we must be willing to invest in them.
We also have to be prepared when they go off to college and start a career and family – knowing that the seeds planted will bear fruit. This may be elsewhere.
For example, I did not get involved with the WW&F until I was about 30. Anyone who knows me can tell you that I've loved trains since I was born. Some attribute it to an early Amtrak trip from Providence to Florida when I was an infant, circa 1972. Maybe its because both of my parents are from Bellows Falls, VT. My middle name is after Charles Herbert "Bert" Preston, the conductor for the Woodstock Railroad in Vermont and my great-grandfather. Whatever the reason, I got bit by this bug a long time ago – but didn't have the opportunity to get truly involved until much later.
However, I am forever grateful to the older generation who encouraged my interests at such a young age. Please let me honor some of them here:
Mr. Harrison.He was a member of the Pioneer Valley Steamers in Southwick, MA. He also ran "Davis Store" in Wrentham, my hometown. Davis' had a few copies of "Model Railroader" on sale, and somehow one was slipped into my bag whenever I stopped in for ice cream. Mr. Harrison took me to the Pioneer Valley Steamers several times, which I never forgot.
Howard Topham.A former railroader turned newspaper reporter, Mr. Topham had a large collection of books, films, and railroad ephemera – especially Boston-area traction. When his health started to fail, he made me an offer I could not refuse – show up at his apartment with my bicycle and he would let me have as much as I could safely carry home. I made dozens of round trips with my basket jammed full of magazines, books, etc. Years later, I donated much of this to the WW&F for our archives, or trade/sale for other museum needs.
Adolf Arnold.Mr. Arnold had a toy train museum in Middleboro, MA. My dad brought me there several times during its construction so that I could help out. Dad worked 2nd and 3rd shift, so he would sleep in the car while I swept floors. Mr. Arnold was always patient with my questions and ideas.
Howie Gunnison.Dad worked with Mr. Gunnison at Walpole State Prison – both as steam boiler engineers. Mr. Gunnison also lived in Wrentham and had a collection of switch stands proudly displayed on the top of a hill in his front yard. He was also a regular engineer at Edaville, and one day gave me the run of the park as his "nephew." Between that, and other visits, I somehow managed to ride in the cab of all 4 of the Maine steamers around the bogs. I had no idea how special that would be in later years.
Mr. Gunnison obviously loved the Maine two-footers and moved away soon after he retired; his switch stands disappeared. Dad told me that he moved somewhere in Maine – and was somehow involved with some trains up there. He died not long after. It was not until many years later that I learned that Mr. Gunnison was an early member of the WW&F, and his collection ended up as ours. Even though the south switch at Alna Center is a PITA to move, I pray for Howie every time I throw it – for I know he would be proud of its resurrection from a hilltop in Wrentham to be back into service.
Alvin "Mac" and Helen McClintock.But no one invested in me like "Mac" and his wife, Helen.
Summer vacation is dreadfully boring to a pre-teen. Not old enough for a job, and not anything to do. I spent many summer mornings with Mac, and learned more than just about model trains.
Mac's property had a big barn and one day they were having a Yard Sale. Mac and his wife lived in an in-law apartment in the barn, their son and his family lived in the adjacent house. At the Yard Sale, I wandered into the barn to discover an elderly man selling a wide variety of Lionel, Marx, and American Flyer trains. After an hour of talking, Mac instructed his son to "take the boy to see the collection." His son was hesitant to let such a young visitor into his home, but Mac insisted that I knew what I was talking about and could be trusted.
I had never seen such a display.
Walls covered with Lionel, Marx, Flyer. O gauge, S Gauge, even some HO. Matchbox cars too. And a small layout under construction.
Mac told me to call him any time to visit. A lifelong friendship was born.
For the rest of the summer, and for many more summers to come, I would call over to let them know I was coming, then pedal my bike as quick as I could to get there. Mac was already in his basement workshop, tinkering away at something. He'd send me to fetch boxes in storage. A common trip was to send me to the Liquor store nearby to pick up boxes. He wanted a specific kind so that they would stack evenly. Then he would cut them to size and put the trains away in them.
At lunch, I would help him up the stairs. This was a major undertaking as he had injured his legs as a young man in a motorcycle accident. Helen would have lunch ready for him. I would usually head home, not wanting to wear out my welcome, but sometimes Helen would fix me a grilled cheese.
Mac "adopted" me so that I could attend the swap meets for the Train Collectors Association. The rules stated that only children of members could attend. They broke them for me, and no one cared. Oh the treasures I would find when not helping man his table.
Mac's health started to fail and he could no longer navigate the stairs to the basement workshop. So, I became his legs, fetching boxes from the basement, then putting them away. But it was the time we shared talking that helped shape me from an enthusiastic boy into a polite young man.
In college we still kept in touch when I would come home, but my visits were not as frequent. One day I got the phone call that Helen had died. Mac was heartbroken to lose his companion of more than 50 years. Mac's legs would not permit him to attend the wake, funeral, or burial – so his son asked if I would sit with him during that time. We talked of life and death, and he reminded me that if we truly believe in God and Heaven, death is not a sad event. While we morn, we remain hopeful.
When Christmas vacation came about 11 months later, I had someone special to introduce to Mac, my fiancée Michelle. We drove to his house unannounced – to learn that he had just been admitted to the hospital. When we arrived, it was clear that his journey on this earth was coming to a close.
I asked Mac what his secret for such a long and faithful marriage was. He opened the drawer on the hospital table to take out a book I had never seen him with before – a well worn book of prayers. He opened to a page, handed it to me, and asked me to read:
Lord Jesus, grant that I and my spouse may have a true and understanding love for each other. Grant that we may both be filled with faith and trust. Give us the grace to live with each other in peace and harmony. May we always bear with one another's weaknesses and grow from each other's strengths. Help us to forgive one another's failings and grant us patience, kindness, cheerfulness and the spirit of placing the well-being of one another ahead of self.
May the love that brought us together grow and mature with each passing year. Bring us both ever closer to You through our love for each other. Let our love grow to perfection. Amen.
Our visit was all too short. With a "goodbye old friend" we left. He died the next day.
I share these stories, honoring these "rail heroes" because we often forget what a difference we can make in the lives of young people. Sometimes its inconvenient to explain something for the 20th time. It's easy to lose patience and understanding. It's hard to trust someone so young. And sometimes rules need to be broken to create opportunities. (Not only in the stories I share above, but I recall the times I was invited into cabs for rides on Conrail and the Cape Cod and Hyannis by nameless train crews that saw this young kid hanging around the yard.)
So to those reading this forum who are "young" – please know that I will share whatever patience and understanding with you that I can muster. If you live near me, you are welcome to hitch a ride to the WW&F whenever we can go together.
And to the rest of us, let us know that it is our duty to raise up these young people. Let's not only teach them about the trains we love, but also share with them the lives we have lived.