Big Boy has come and gone and I saw it. But, as usual, there is much more to the story.
The much-heralded passage of the world’s largest steam-powered locomotive was enough to draw me out of the air-conditioned comfort of home to get a glimpse of the phenomenon.
As such things tend to go in Johnstown, it was not easy.
My plan was to avoid the crowds of designated “watch” parties. I had no desire to be packed in such an area, cheek to jowel with other spectators, and most likely on concrete or other pavement which would radiate the sun’s warmth. Instead, I sought out relative isolation.
Having lived in the Oakhurst section of the West End during my early married years, and being familiar with the area because of that, I thought a perch behind the former Save A Lot grocery store, which is across from the former Garfield Junior High School (when you live in Johnstown, you use former a lot) would be good.
I called up a satellite map Friday night to confirm my thoughts and saw there would be easy access and great room to stretch out should others have the same idea.
The wife and I got there at what I thought would be a fashionably early time, around 11 a.m. or so, to find a large contingent of vehicles, some of which had pulled very close to the track, and maybe 60 or 70 people.
The wife chose a railroad tie under some trees as a sitting spot and I moved up the track toward Pittsburgh to escape the crowd.
Things were going fine, standing in the shade and talking on my cell phone with friend Jim, the unofficial mayor of Windber, Scalp Level and Paint Borough. He was going to make the journey to meet us and see Big Boy.
Alas, one of Johnstown’s finest arrived to throw everyone out. We were on railroad property and couldn’t stay. Such things irritate me. I understand, as he said, he was just following orders. Yet, in recent days, as I shared with him, I have been treated to multiple TV reports showing spectators much closer to the tracks, watching the Big Boy passage. I would bet my usual $10,000 they were on railroad property, too.
As was the case with the vague COVID guidelines, since admitted to have been made up with no scientific justification, I have seen conflicting dictates that no one is allowed within 25 feet of tracks, no one within 50 feet of tracks, and no one standing on tracks.
The last, I understand. The other two, not so much.
The wife and I decided to venture along Sheridan Street toward the Oakhurst Homes. Perhaps we could get the added treat of witnessing a shooting. But, no, such things tend to be nocturnal events and this was late morning/early afternoon.
She spotted a grassy glade behind an auto body shop that looked promising. After circumnavigating through the Homes and returning, we parked on the grass and waited for Big Boy, hoping to avoid being sent packing yet again.
Another aging couple such as us arrived and we chit-chatted awaiting the arrival of friend Jim and, of course, Big Boy.
As frequently is the case, when Jim arrived he knew the guy. And, it turns out, the man used to hang out with the guy who married the older sister of the girl I dated through high school.
The woman spoke at length with my wife, and told of growing up near where we stood. It was an enjoyable way to pass the time, shaded by the trees and sharing stories.
I since have looked up facts about Big Boy and it is more than 132 feet in length, articulated to allow it to go around curves due to that. It weighs 1.2 million pounds and burns 20-25 gallons of oil TO THE MILE, having been converted from coal use in the past.
At about 12:20 p.m., we heard noise and perhaps a whistle. Cell phone cameras were readied and soon a light was seen through the trees and bushes.
Big Boy came and went in maybe a minute, pulling quite a lengthy train of cars. It was huge, as advertised and, as I had told the one gentleman beforehand, probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to witness firsthand such a thing passing through the area.
I’m glad I went, even with the unnecessary hassle.
Sam Ross Jr's site 