LOOKING BACK With Fondness

By Carl M. Lathrop
Published on September 1, 1995
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108 Garfield Avenue Madison, New Jersey 07940

Those of you who’ve been reading IMA for many years
may recall the January/February 1978 issue, and a reminiscence
article therein called ‘Sentimental Journey In Search of
Steam.’ There I relived my early childhood alongside the
Virginia Blue Ridge Railway’s tracks and in the shadow of the
two steam powered sawmills that were its reason for existence.
These enterprises deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia are
now but a memory, for hardly a trace remains of their passing.

The line ran from Massies Mill some 15 miles to an interchange
with the Southern Railway at a mainline way station known as Tie
River about 20 miles north of Lynchburg. In 1915 they took delivery
of a 2-8-0 consolidation type locomotive built for them by the H.
K. Porter Company of Pittsburgh. That machine served the railroad
until being scrapped in 1953. A factor in its longevity reportedly
was the source of boiler water from a nearby mountain stream. It is
the search for this elixir and its analysis that brings our story
up to date.

There is probably no set age at which one’s memory begins
and carries on into later life. There will, however, be flashes of
insight from memorable incidents going back to very early years.
There are, for me, two of these mental snapshots that remain deeply
embedded as related to the present story.

The railroad had provided shop facilities for engine maintenance
in Massies Mill where coal, lube oil and sand were stored for use
and a supply of boiler water was available. A clear flowing
mountain brook called, appropriately enough, Rocky Run gurgled its
way past the shop and pump house. Steam for the reciprocating steam
engine belted to a centrifugal water pump had been provided by a
vertical fire tube boiler until its demise. As an alternate source,
a steam hose connection was inserted in the locomotive’s draft
blower line as a measure born of frugal operations and a nearness
to corporate bankruptcy.

The night that the watchman was to try out the new scheme
arrived, and my father was in attendance to see that all went well.
As usual and whenever possible I was glued to his coat-tails as a
sort of supernumerary. I can, in fact, remember quite a few
tag-a-long incidents such as inspection trips with his Buda track
car and our lunches of Uneeda biscuits, sardines and cream soda
purchased at any convenient country store.

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