Marque1

THE INTERURBAN, A CLASSIC WITH A DIFFERENT VIEW

Most of our viewers, taking a quick glance at the photo above, might easily mistake it for a trio of vintage streetcars. But they'd be wrong. It's actually an "electric interurban" train. Once popular throughout North America, interurbans, as the name suggests, connected small towns and suburbs with big cities. Sometimes they'd share tracks with the railways but more often than not the interurbans had their own right-of-way.

Our modern equivalent is commonly known as a commuter train, whose journeys may be quicker but are no more interesting than the name suggests. Bring a newspaper, folks, because there's nothing to see outside those windows. Interurban routes, on the other hand, were the railroad equivalent of a car guy's back country road. They wandered through forests, past farms, across bridges that traversed creeks and rivers, alongside highways, and sometimes cruised slowly along a small town's main street. Even if you rode the interurban twice daily it would be difficult not to notice the moving panorama and appreciate its scenic moments.

The trains weren't slow – most could achieve 80 mph and accelerate much faster than a steam or diesel locomotive – but it was the nature of the route and the requirement for frequent stops that kept average speeds down. On the other hand, as electrics, they were both clean-running and quiet.

I'm probably guilty of unwarranted nostalgia here, for I've only ridden on a interurban twice in my life, both times as a teenager. And yet those trips remain large in my memory, even after traveling thousands of miles, usually with my father, on conventional railroad trains. I did admire the fast-moving expresses of the day and yet those interurbans contributed to a romantic vew of travel that, decades later, still hasn't faded

Incidentally, just before the interurban era ended, Milwaukee introduced streamlined three-car trains in which the middle unit contained a bar. Now that's a civilised way to wend one's way home from the office (although some waiting wives may have disagreed)! 

My motivation for this blog came from an online sales pitch by Classic Trains magazine, in which it offers an expanded 40-page issue on the interurbans. Of course I'm not here to sell products but it seems to me that this is something anyone who loves vintage transportation (not just cars) would enjoy. It includes a look back at the North Shore Line, the fastest interurban and the one with the bar; a ride on the Pacific Electric line; the 10-best interurban car designs; and a gallery of rare photos. You can buy it on the newsstand for an extra two bucks but the annual subscription is a bargain at $24.95 for four quarterly issues.

The age of the interurbans may be long gone but it still lives in the guise of the East Troy Electric Railroad, a museum that operates heritage passenger excursions on a 7-mile stretch of track from East Troy, Wisconsin to Mukwonago, Wisconsin. There are several cars in the fleet but the railroad's pride is car no. 21, a single-truck open bench replica from the turn of the last century. Worth the trip if you're anywhere near and, oh... next to the museum you can still order traditional ice cream sodas.

[Photo: Classic Trains]

ONCE A RAILWAY STATION, NOW A LIQUOR STORE, TORONTO LANDMARK RECALLS AN EARLIER ERA

My late friend Wentworth Folkins was generally regarded as Canada's finest painter of railroads. He focussed on trains not only because he loved them but also as a way of preserving Canadian transportation history. "Went," as he was known to his friends, did this so eloquently that I wish there was a permanent display of his works in a museum or gallery.

In the painting above he deviated slightly from his focus on massive steam engines to present a scene that features the historic North Toronto station, opened in 1916 and formerly served by the Canadian Pacific Railway. It was constructed in the Beaux Arts tradition and features a 140 foot clock tower modeled after the Campanile di San Marco in Saint Mark’s Square in Venice. It was the first building in the city to be constructed of Tyndall limestone from Manitoba, noted for its weather resistance, embedded fossils, and dappled beige hues.

When the downtown Union Station opened in 1927 the North Toronto Station, which served smaller towns in Ontario and was originally meant to augment the bigger station, began to lose customers. The last paying passengers filed through the station on September 27, 1930 and Brewers' Retail, the government-owned liquor and beer store, moved into the northern portion of the terminal building in 1931. So the station was saved although for many years it was left in a semi-grubby state.

A few years ago it was restored to as-new condition, including a modern liquor store and an attractive interior that pays homage to the building's history, including photo presentations of the station and neighbourhood as it used to be. Fortunately the clock tower, once a Yonge Street landmark, has been retained, complete with functioning clocks.

Went's painting also involves automobiles, streetcars, a bus, and, if you look carefully in the background, a train on the bridge that crosses over Yonge Street. A lovely reminder of the romance of transportation, though much has changed since then. The famous Peter deWitt streetcars are gone, the 1920s automobiles have been replaced by contemporary models, public transit exists but it's now underground in the form of a modern subway. Rail traffic is limited to freights and alas, no passenger trains stop at the former CPR station.

Thanks to the artistry of Went Folkins we can all imagine a time when streetcars, automobiles and passenger trains converged on a busy Yonge Street. A far livelier scene 80 years ago than it is today.

GUESS WHAT'S MISSING FROM THE REAR OF THE TRAIN?

It wouldn't surprise me if many of our younger viewers failed to recognise the vehicle shown above, though anyone over 50 should instantly recognise it as a "caboose." The photo was taken at Illinois Central’s South Water Street freight terminal in Chicago, April 1943 and is among sixty photographs that will appear in the Center’s exhibition "Faces of Chicago’s Railroad Community: Photographs by Jack Delano," which will open April 4, 2013, at the Chicago History Museum.

Throughout most of railroad history the last car in a freight train was the caboose, there to provide train crews (usually a conductor and a brakeman) with shelter. The crew could exit the caboose for switching or to protect the rear of the train when stopped, check for malfunctions such as shifting loads, broken or dragging equipment, and look for hot boxes (overheated axle bearings, a serious fire and derailment threat). The caboose was also a mobile office with minimal living quarters, a table or desk for record keeping, and stoves or heaters to provide warmth. Although they came in various designs and styles most had a box-like area with windows, located above the roof in the middle or the rear, known as a "cupola."  Fitted with a special seat, the cupola allowed the conductor to look ahead and keep an eye for problems.

By the mid-80s railroad technology had improved sufficiently that many of the crew's responsibilities were made redundant and that gave the companies a money-saving excuse to eliminate cabooses from service. The conductor was moved to the head of the train in the diesel engine's cab, while a flashing rear end device (FRED) was attached to the rear of the train to detect air brake pressure and report any problems to the locomotive.

For those of us who grew up with railways from the days of steam engines, a freight without a caboose just doesn't look right. If we were waiting at a crossing for a train to pass and looked back down the line the caboose was always a reminder that the end was in sight. Sometimes we'd even get a friendly wave from the crew. Watching a freight pass today is like a movie that goes black with the last scene and has no credits. Fortunately a few cabooses are still in use around rail yards, for special service and attached to railfan trains, while hundreds have been preserved as museum artifacts. They've also been converted to living quarters and restaurants.

Inspiration for this blog came from the Center for Railroad Photography & Art. If you're a train fan, and many classic car enthusiasts are, the Web site is worth a visit.

A CAR FAN LOOKS BACK AT THE AGE OF STREAMLINED TRAINS

I'm aware that not everyone who follows Marque1 shares my enthusiasm for trains, both old and new, nor for vintage steam engines. But it's not unusual for classic car enthusiasts to be interested in historic transportation of all kinds and so I'm taking the liberty of devoting today's blog to a famous steam engine of the past. It is one of a series of five built for Canadian National Railways by the Montreal Locomotive Works in 1936.

The 1930s was a decade known for "streamlining," or what we now refer to as aerodynamics. Until then, steam engines were purely functional in design, with little or no attention paid to the effects of aerodynamic drag. Eventually locomotive builders began enveloping their giant machines in bodywork that not only smoothed the flow of air but resulted in handsome designs that could be used in advertising to attract passengers. CN's streamliners were created with the assistance of wind tunnel tests, probably using scaled-down models. The objective in this instance was not just to improve aerodynamic efficiency but to reduce smoke being blown in the engineer's face. Six nearly identical engines were built in the US for the Grand Trunk Western, a CN subsidiary.

U-4 type 6400 became famous as one of the engines, representing Canadian National, that pulled the Royal Train during the 1939 Canadian visit of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth.

Canadian Pacific's Royal Hudson was another, though better remembered. For many years the restored Hudson pulled an excursion train from Vancouver BC to Squamish. Although it was hugely popular with tourists and railfans alike, the engine was withdrawn from service when the railroads and the province refused to contribute to maintenance costs. Fortunately the Royal Hudson was saved by the West Coast Railway Association and is kept in running condition, ready for future excursion service. CN's 6400 has also been preserved at the Canada Science and Technology Museum though it will never run again.

One day, not long before the last U-4 was pulled from service, I had an opportunity to ride in 6400, an engine that, when I was a youngster, had made an enormous impression on me, for I was not only in love with trains but was attracted to any form of streamlined transportation. By the late 50s 6400 had been relegated to pulling commuter trains between Burlington, Ontario, and Toronto's Union Station. Clearly there was no sense of romance among the railroad's bean counters.

I was living in the Toronto suburb of Long Branch, the morning train's last stop before Union Station. As usual, I was late getting up for work. I ran to the station, arriving next to the locomotive cab just as the passenger car doors were being shut. The engineer looked down as I shouted a plea to ride in the engine rather than lose my job. "Okay," he called, "c'mon up but make it fast!" And that's how I got to ride in the last of the CN streamliners.

[Photo: railroad-line.com]

ON THE WEB: THE GLORY DAYS OF SHIPS AND TRAINS

I've just discovered a Web site about cruise ships and ocean liners of the past which also has, buried in its content, some wonderful tales and photos of streamlined rail transit during its glory days. It's called "Cruising the Past, the Award Winning Cruise Ship, Ocean Liner, Travel and Social History Website." The only problem is that the home page doesn't offer links to its non-cruise ship pages, but more about that in a moment.

While glancing at the photos of classic ships in the golden age of ocean liners I was immediately drawn to the publicity photo seen above. It features Canadian Pacific’s S.S. Princess Marguerite steaming from Victoria, BC, to Vancouver and what captivated me is that I once sailed on that very ship. It was in the late 1950s and I was working as a news announcer in Victoria's CJVI radio station. I needed to spend a couple of days in Vancouver and the only way to get there was via the Princess Marguerite, which offered first class overnight accommodations on the downtown-to-downtown service.

Unfortunately I couldn't afford the price of a stateroom but early in the voyage I met a young lady who was attracted to me, as I was to her. It didn't take long to establish a romantic relationship, for this was one of those love-at-first-sight happenings. Okay, okay, maybe it was lust-at-first-sight but, heck, we were young and eager. Part way into the evening we agreed that a stateroom would be a more comfortable place to cuddle than our bench on the deck and we agreed to share the cost.

Sorry to disappoint you, folks, if you were looking for a sexy end to this tale, but when we pooled our resources we lacked sufficient funds. And so we spent the rest of the night on deck.

The Princess and her sister ships provided service between Vancouver, Victoria and Seattle. They were the finest coastal liners on the Pacific coast, breaking all intercity speed records between Vancouver, Victoria, and Seattle and established an enduring reputation for elegance and beauty.

 

As mentioned, the site also includes fascinating articles and photos about classic streamlined trains and other forms of transit but you won't get to them from the home page. I found this story of the Santa Fe Super Chief by Googling the artist's name. Leland Knickerbocker was a General Motors artist (GM built the diesel engines) and the Super Chief's classic “Warbonnet” livery is arguably the most beautiful paint scheme ever to be applied to a passenger train. It was often referred to as "the Train of the Stars."

The Super Chief was legendary, not only for cutting 15 hours off the Chicago-Los Angeles run, but also for its beautiful exterior and Navajo-inspired interiors. It's maiden voyage began at Chicago's Dearborn Street Station at 7:18 PM on May 18, 1937. Thirty-nine-and-three-quarter hours later it arrived in Los Angeles. Passengers usually included Hollywood stars, corporate big shots, and politicians, willing to pay extra for fine food and service. For example, those who wanted fresh trout the second night would place their orders, which would be telegraphed ahead. The fish would be caught the next morning and served that night as the chef's specialty: Colorado Mountain Trout Grillade.

Forty hours on a train, even with a private compartment, may not appeal to today's in-a-hurry business people. But for service like that plus superb scenery at ground level, they'd arrive in a much better mood. Now known as Amtrak's Southwest Chief, it still runs, though without the glorious paint scheme.

 

THE RETURN OF THE STEAM ENGINE. HONEST, NO KIDDING!

Fans of legendary railway steam engines should be cheering at this announcement. Rather than being confined to museums and railfan runs, those giants of the past may be resurrected if a collaboration between the University of Minnesota’s Institute on the Environment (IonE) and the nonprofit Sustainable Rail International (SRI) succeeds.

The group's goal for CSR Project 130 is to create "the world’s cleanest, most powerful passenger locomotive, proving the viability of solid biofuel and modern steam locomotive technology." That may sound like a fantasy dreamed up by railway enthusiasts with their heads in the past but the opposite is true. The group is developing a new kind of solid fuel–biocoal–with an energy density and handling properties similar to those of coal, but containing no heavy metals and producing less ash, smoke and volatile off-gases. It’s also carbon neutral, meaning that it releases no more carbon when being burned than was originally absorbed by the plants it’s made from.

The test locomotive was built in 1937 and after retirement spent its time in museums but was well maintained. CSR’s early research suggests that Locomotive 3463 will be cheaper to fuel and maintain than regular diesel-electric models, will offer quicker acceleration and better horsepower output at higher speeds, and will run cleaner. If the demonstration project is successful, however, trains could be merely a starting point for biocoal-fueled steam power.

Adding a little magic to the mix for steam fans is that when converted for biocoal the group aims at breaking the world's steam locomotive record by pushing the overhauled engine to at least 130 mph (209 km/h). Hence the "CSR Project 130" name. That's 4 mph faster than the record made by England's Mallard way back in 1938. That streamlined, coal-fueled locomotive, designed by Sir Nigel Gresley, achieved more than 126 mph with several passenger cars in tow.

Now I'm not suggesting that the hundreds (perhaps thousands) of steam engines in museums around the world, or still in action pulling railfan excursions, will suddenly be returned to service. But for even one engine to prove that the viability of steam power still exists is exciting. As IonE’s Rod Larkins said, "Once perfected, creating the world’s first carbon-neutral locomotive will be just the beginning for this technology which, we hope, will later be used for combined heat and power energy in the developing world as well as reducing the United States’ dependence on fossil fuels."

So let's give a cheer for Locomotive 3463 and its donor, the Great Overland Station Museum in Topeka, Kansas, as she powers for an old but prestigious world record.

[Photos: Locomotive 3463 - SRI/ Mallard - Philip Powell]

HOW TO TRAVEL FROM MILAN TO ROME IN A QUICK RED FERRARI

Imagine driving from Milan to Rome in a red Ferrari. Thrill of a lifetime, right? Wrong. With so many vehicles on the Autostrada, you'd be in a high speed traffic jam. Assuming you could even get up to speed. Ah, but soon there will be a way to make the trip in a Ferrari that will be faster than its F1 cars and a whole lot more comfortable. The "Italo," an Alstom AGV, is a train with a Ferrari soul, the company having customised the internal layout and furnishings. And yes, the train is red.

Nuovo Transporto Viaggiatori (NTV) was founded by a group of entrepreneurs headed by the president of Ferrari, Luca Cordero di Montezemolo. With Ferrari backing, it will be building twenty-five high speed trains for use in Italy. Not unexpectedly the Italo makes use of some very advanced railway technology. It is said to be 70 tons lighter than competitor's trains, using less power and, with lightweight composite materials, reducing energy consumption by 30 percent. Cruising speed is 360 km/h (223 mph).

According to the company it features a system of locomotion distributed throughout the different cars of the train, rather than being concentrated in power units at the front and back. The space made available by the elimination of those two locomotives provides an increase of 20-percent passenger  capacity.

The Italo is designed to lure travelers away from the airlines, offering comfortable leather seats, tunnel-proof wireless internet, personal media centers and power supplies, plus entertainment cars where movies can be enjoyed on proper big screens. And passengers can feel safe on board thanks to cars that won't fold up like an accordian in the event of a crash. That long nose, for example, is more than about aerodynamics. It includes crash modules and energy absorbers totalling nearly 20 feet (6 m) in length and, in case of a frontal collision, allowing the train to absorb a massive shock without compromising the driver’s cabin.

I would love to be a passenger in a Ferrari-inspired train, having once been privileged to drive a Ferrari 400 on the Autostrada. But I'd be just as happy to turn the clock back to a night in the 70s when I traveled from Milan to Rome by rail, not at speed but in style, thanks to a private sleeping compartment. It was paneled in rare woods, featured a mini-washroom with designer-quality fittings, had a superbly comfortable bed, and allowed me to leave the window blind partly open so I could be lulled to sleep by watching the world pass by in semi-darkness.

(Note to NTV public relations: A photo simulation showing a girl and her dog admiring the passing train in an open field without guard fencing is a very bad idea.)

THE INTERURBAN. WHAT WE NEED NOW

When classic car enthusiasts talk about railways – as they sometimes do – the conversation is usually about steam engines and the famous streamliners of the past. Seldom does anyone discuss "interurbans," a mode of rail transport that was once common throughout North America. Interurbans weren't glamorous and they certainly weren't streamlined but they were functional and served a unique purpose: to provide scheduled service from city centers to suburbs and smaller communities. They're what we wish we had now.

As a kid living in Southern Ontario I had the opportunity to ride the interurbans and was fascinated by them in spite of an admiration for the "crack express trains," as long distance railway trains were often called in advertising and the media. What attracted me was that interurbans seemed to go where other trains couldn't. Alongside highways. On city streets. Winding their way through forests and farmlands at speeds that allowed passengers to glimpse nature's beauty in a way that wasn't possible in a speeding intercity train.

Interurbans were sometimes drawn by steam or diesel but most were electrified, with power supplied by overhead pickups. Not to be confused with streetcars or trolleys, they were bigger, faster, and often consisted of multi-car units. Today we'd call them "light rail." It was the automobile, of course, that spelled the end for interurban service as commuters were lulled by the promise of privacy and freedom.

So what was it like to ride the interurban? How did they look and sound, close-up and from afar? For a very reasonable cost you can purchase a DVD packed with historic footage in black & white and color. Sunday River Productions specialises in railway DVDs of all kinds, and the one that caught my attention features interurbans from Eastern Canada, including the Oshawa Railway, the Cornwall Street Railway, the Lake Erie & Northern Railway, the Grand River Railway, the London & Port Stanley Railway, and the Niagara, St. Catherines & Toronto.

Having been born and raised in Southern Ontario I can relate to these lines and even rode on two at a very young age. If you're at all curious about interurbans you'll enjoy this DVD regardless of where you live, but you can scroll through the Sunday River site and find plenty of other options that may satisfy your urge for nostalgia. For just $29.95, this is a trip I'd like to take.

AT LAST! THE TRAINS RETURN TO VANCOUVER ISLAND

A political miracle has just happened here on Vancouver Island. The Canadian government has announced that it will contribute $7.5 million from the Building Canada Fund to the $15-million infrastructure investment required to get the E&N Railway on its tracks again. Proponents are celebrating because the E&N is the only remaining railway line on the island and because they believe it can be successfully used to help solve various commuter and freight problems.

Inasmuch as most of my viewers have no idea where Vancouver Island is (including more than a few Eastern Canadians) allow me to begin with a few simple facts. The island's travel site boasts that "nestled along Canada's West Coast, the Vancouver Island region is a paradise of tranquil islands, pristine coastlines, and emerald forests, where the ever-present Pacific Ocean shapes the scenery and softens the climate." True. It is also the home to British Columbia's parliament buildings in Victoria, the island's largest city.

It is 25 minutes by air from the city of Vancouver and from Seattle, measuring 19,356 square miles. To put this in context, it is 290 miles long and 50 miles wide. Compare this with Long Island at 118 miles in length and 23 miles wide, or Hawaii's Oahu length of 45 miles and width of 30 miles. Obviously this is one whopper of an island. With that much territory to cover, a railway is a definite asset.

Previously the E&N ran two self-propelled diesel railcars daily, from downtown Victoria to Courtenay and return. Its owner, ViaRail, made little effort to publicise the service, so when the track began to deteriorate it simply shut the passenger service down. But Victoria is expanding rapidly to the west and nearby communities recognised that the E&N tracks could be used for commuter service. In addition there is a new awareness that railways are a clean, economical way of moving freight... the line has access to four major railway companies: Canadian National, Canadian Pacific, Burlington North, Santa Fe and Union Pacific.

I'll admit to being somewhat of a romantic where railways are concerned and as a car enthusiast I'm all for traffic reduction, especially on the scenic but dangerous Malahat Highway that joins north with south on the island. I've traveled many miles on European railways and have seen how people are attracted to fast, reliable, comfortable trains. It won't be easy but here's hoping E&N's management can make it work. Eventually they'll need more contemporary equipment, although they could always advertise those elderly Dayliners as vintage trains and offer special railfan runs to tourists!

[Photo: Flickriver.com]

ROMANCING THE STREETCAR: MEMORIES OF A CAR GUY

This car enthusiast is dedicated to the philosophy of integrated transport, using streetcars and light rail as a means of moving people quicker, in greater safety, and with less polution than an autos-only system. Therefore I was delighted to hear an item on the Seattle NPR news Monday morning that construction was about to begin on that city's new First Hill streetcar line. On that same day I also received an e-mail promoting a DVD about classic eastern Canadian streetcar lines, which led me to wax nostalgic about the "red rockets" of my past in Toronto.

If I'm to be honest I'd have to admit that the streetcars of yesterday (or "trolleys" as my US friends sometimes call them) would hardly satisfy contemporary citizens when it comes to comfort, quiet, and convenience. But go back a few decades and they were not only efficient for the times but fun to ride, often for reasons their designers hadn't intended. In this blog I'm going to take you through that era as I knew it: as a young boy, teenager, and still immature adult.

When I first began riding them, the TTC (Toronto Transportation System) had three types of streetcars in its fleet. The oldest dated back to the early 1900s, featuring a combination of steel and wood-frame construction. The shape consisted of boxy, straight lines that look right at home next to antique and vintage automobiles. The seats were made of wood and the roof had a raised section to provide light and ventilation. They were noisy, and rattled when underway, but there was something about those old machines that gave them character. Sadly the TTC failed to save even one when their time was up, eagerly selling the cars for scrap. I feel privileged to have been a passenger.

In the 1920s the TTC began replacing those oldies with all-steel Peter Witt streetcars that were more spacious and more powerful, eventually adding nearly 600 units to the fleet. They were the streetcars that I knew as a youngster, along with the remaining antiques and a growing number of streamlined "PCC's".

The PCC (Presidents’ Conference Committee) streetcar was first built in the United States in the 1930s. The committee represented the presidents of various street railways who worked together to redesign, refine, and perfect the electric streetcar. When the first prototype was shown at the Canadian National Exhibition my grandmother took me to see it. As a youngster who was already in love with transportation design I was hugely impressed. Numerous PCC's have been preserved as heritage cars and can be found running in San Francisco, Philadelphia, New Orleans, and other cities. Rugged and serviceable when rebuilt to modern safety standards, those old streamliners are doing double duty as tourist attractions and everyday transport.

Interesting though such history may be I did promise to tell you about my personal experiences and what made the streetcars fun. Some of what I'm about to reveal is embarrassing but what the heck... that's the way it happened. For example, the simple act of riding to and from Toronto's Beach district to downtown during rush hours.

When I was in my late teens most Torontonions still used streetcars to get to work and the cars would be very, very crowded. Jammed cheek-to-jowl and occasionally bottom (female)-to-(male) pelvis. I was a shy kid and well-mannered so I never arranged this on purpose... honest! In those sardine-packed streetcars it just happened and my problem was that massive amounts of willpower were not enough to avoid the inevitable male reaction, although a few of the young women with whom I was unintentionally intimate seemed slow moving away when the crowds began to thin out.

The PCCs could also be used for a free ride on the exterior, albeit at considerable danger. The rear of the car had a bumper of sorts, just a curved steel band with a gap between it and the body. Above the rear windows was a small ridge created by a horizontal trim piece. By placing his feet on the bumper gap and his fingers in the horizontal trim, a brave or foolish young man could become a non-revenue passenger, not unlike those we see on third world passenger trains. Obviously this was not meant for long distances due to physical risks and the probability that the operator would spot us and call the police. We mostly used it for tricks of bravado at the conclusion of Balmy Beach Canoe Club dance nights when our choice of sweethearts rejected pleas of "can I take you home after the last dance?"

The dance hall at the opposite end of Toronto's waterfront, the Palace Pier, was a wondrous building distinguished by a vast floor mounted on springs, the intention being to reduce the bounce of jitterbugging and jiving, the disco dances of an earlier generation. Famed jazz bands like Benny Goodman, Lionel Hampton, and Count Basie appeared there, and when they did we Balmy Beachers would swarm en masse to the Palace Pier, traveling, of course, by streetcar. The connection to the Queen car line was over a wide avenue of medium curves known as the Queensway. At the end of the night the TTC would arrange to have several PCC cars waiting at the Palace Pier to connect us with the Queen Street line.

It was an absolute miracle that no one was killed. The cars were packed with fans, seated and standing in the aisles. The drivers must have looked on that curving route as a modern F1 star might see a race circuit. They didn't just traverse the tracks, they attacked them, taking advantage of the PCC's wheel's ability to remain connected to the rails. We, the passengers, clung together, all thoughts of dates and sex forgotten as we prayed for survival. That those cars never left the tracks speaks well for the design, though not for the drivers.

Some of the older Peter Witt streetcars had a motorman, who did the driving, and a conductor who had his own protected area just ahead of the exit doors, which were located midships. Later models were revised for one-man operation, hardly an easy job as the motorman had to sell tickets (four for a quarter), make change, give and take transfers, call the stops, ring the bell at errant motorists, and drop the "fender" to prevent dogs and cats from getting run over. Oh... and drive the vehicle at a speed necessary to maintain schedule. Those on the Yonge Street route would occasionally pull trailers of a similar design, each with their own conductor and a single set of doors. But those trailers, unlike the traction cars ahead, had no electric heating system. The car was kept warm with a large stove that the conductor had to periodically feed with shovels of coal, in between his ticket selling duties and monitoring the doors. Needless to say little of the heat reached the ends of the car, thus on cold winter days passengers would scramble for seats near the stove.

It may be difficult to imagine that getting around in those circumstances could actually be fun. But passengers tended to be more sociable then, unafraid of striking up a conversation with strangers. Discomforts were shared with a sense of humour. Young guys like myself could strike up a conversation if a pretty young thing sat next to us, which might even lead to a date. I doubt whether the streetcar revival slowly taking place in North America will offer the kinds of experiences we had in the 1940s and 1950s. Times change, attitudes change, and the streetcars have changed. But you never know until you try one.

[Photo Credits: Vintage streetcar, Toronto City Archives/PCC, John F. Bromley/ Peter Witt trailer, Julian Bernard]