Municipal Stadium
I’ve been enjoying baseball for many years. Spent time in the third deck at Candlestick with the fog coming in long before the Croix de Candlestick was even thought of. And enjoyed the Oakland Coliseum during those back to back to back World Series years. Way before Mount Davis ruined a nice ball park. Been to the Big A in Anaheim, Safeco Field in Seattle (I still think a ride on the roof would be fun) and am more than ready for another sauteed crab cake sandwich at Camden Yard.
But given the choice, it would be here. Municipal Stadium in San Jose. Home to the San Jose Giants, the A class affiliate of the San Francisco Giants.
Here you are really close to the game. You get to see baseball played by men looking to break into the major leagues. As nice as it is here, the idea is to play well enough that you don’t spend much time here. You want to move up to AA, AAA and finally get called up to the “show”.
Plenty of good baseball. And plenty of good food, especially at Turkey Mikes BBQ.
Great fun and reasonably priced all around. Who could ask for more? Okay, maybe a foul ball, too.
The WABAC Machine
No, I am not channeling either Mister Peabody or his boy Sherman today. But if you get the reference, you win a cookie.
Over my years (52 and counting so far) there have been a lot of noteworthy events. Some even happening to me. Part of the niceties of the Internet is being allowed to share some of them from time to time. Not that all of them are worth sharing, either…
For example, while this last weekend was the big 100 for the sinking of the Titanic, it also was the 150th for the Great Locomotive Chase and the 40th for the Apollo 13 mission. And coming up later this week, the 106th anniversary of the San Francisco Earthquake and Fire. And for buffs of history of that kind, this month also saw some historic dates in the War of Northern Aggression with the firing on Fort Sumter and the Battle of Shiloh.
At the time, many of these events were looked upon as important. As time passes, maybe legends grow which make them seem all the greater in context to their day. For example, the Titanic captured imaginations as the Unsinkable Ship. It’s luxury and technology was the talk of the day, representing a pinnacle in human achievement. Only to be done in by another pinnacle, albeit a submerged one. According to Wikipedia, “The death toll has been put at between 1,490 and 1,635 people.” Yet it was not the worst maritime disaster in history. That may be said to be the sinking of the Wilhelm Gustloff (a German ship torpedoed by a Soviet submarine) on January 30th, 1945. An estimated loss of life of 9,400 passengers (including 4,00 children) and crew is far less known that the immortalized Titanic.
The role we play in shaping history may escape us on a day to day basis. Yet, years from now, stories from people who lived events such as the collapse of the Twin Towers in New York on September 11th, 2001 will bring those moments to life for the curious future historians. In the case of the San Francisco Earthquake and Fire, tales of ordinary people have far more to tell and in far more interesting ways than any crafted fictions about those days.
Indeed, truth is far stranger than fiction. Living in strange times will do that to us all.
Mr. Me
Another Blue Parrot classic – from May 12, 2007.
Business Travel?
Ah, for the days when travel on business was so simple…
Instead of the rush through airport screeners, cattle rush loading and unloading and that little bag of salted nuts.
At least in the old days when you paid for a cocktail it came mixed by hand from the bar in a real glass, served at your seat in the lounge rather than in a plastic cup from a can atop the service cart being pushed down the aisle at 30,000 feet.
The Home Road
Among my friends who have railroading as an interest of some kind, many have what they recall as the home road.
That being the railroad that ran where there were born or lived at an early age.
For me, this could be considered my version of the home road. Being born in West Germany, courtesy of the US Army in December of 1958, this is as close as it comes.
Today it is called the NTB or Nassau Tourist Railway. Also known as the Aartalbahn, the line was almost 54 kilometers long, traveling the through Aar River Valley north of Wiesebaden to Diez. When I visited in September of 2001, it offered passengers a 26 kilometer ride on selected days to Nassau-Hohenstein and return. A real up and down railroad, too; definitely not flat. It was interesting to see how people living along the line used it as transportation. I saw many families with bicycles who had ridden an earlier train into Wiesbaden-Dotzheim (the southern end of the operation) and took a later train home, having completed shopping or other expeditions.
Regrettably, the line has had some bad luck since that visit. On several occasions, over height trucks have struck a bridge just beyond the station at Wiesbaden-Dotzheim. That made the bridge un-passable and suspended operations further out on the line. Hopefully, it will be repaired soon and operations may resume.
My afternoon’s ride was a great glimpse of life along a branchline railway in Germany. It was not hard to imagine what it might have been like to have made the same journey that year I was born. Here’s hoping that I’ll be back someday soon!
Railroading
Among my many interests is railroading. Or as some folks mights say, trains.
How did it all start? Genetically. That is, family. Specifically on my fathers side.
One of my great grandfathers was born in a mining town (Eureka, Nevada) on October 7th, 1881. At a somewhat young age (12), his father informed him it was time for him to go out and make his own way in the world. That led to 8 years on the back of a horse working at ranches up and down the Pine Valley. His life changed the first time he saw a steam locomotive. He knew that was what he wanted to do. And in December 1900, he started a career with the Southern Pacific Railroad. Never rode a horse again, either. 51 years later, he retired. Number 1 in seniority on the Salt Lake Division. His usual assignment, running the fastest train, the streamliner City of San Francisco between Sparks and Carlin.
My first ride in a locomotive was with him. Not a very long ride, but around the railroad yard there in Sparks. I may have been all of 3 years old at the time, but it was a very special moment for me. Indeed, the start of something big.
Yes, as a child, I had model trains. My own Lionel railroad. And my mother’s father helped, too as he had his own classic Lionel collection. Many happy memories recall times setting up the railroad with him. And in full size trains? Some memorable moments include a ride on that City of San Francisco over Donner Summit on Labor Day of 1963 and several trips on the SP’s commute service between Mountain View and San Francisco. In high school in Walnut Creek, I joined a model railroad club and kept right on going. Was a member there for almost 30 years.
Things really ramped up in the late 70’s with a visit to a railroad museum. Here was the chance to learn about railroading and get involved. Over the next 20 years, I did all kinds of things. Inside and out. Worked on locomotives (steam, electric and diesel), passenger cars, freight cars, electric street cars and interurban cars. Worked on track. Sold tickets and souvenirs at the museum store. And finally, railroad operations. Moving trains of all types.
I got the chance to connect with my heritage as a steam locomotive fireman and engineer. While I wasn’t running the same locomotives or same route as my great grandfather, I was doing much the same thing he had done at a younger age. I did consider a career in railroading, but went to school instead; something that everyone I spoke to about a job on the railroads advised me to do when I graduate high school. Instead of a career, I had a hobby.
That hobby has taken me places that I never would have gone to if not for the interest in railroading. I won’t call it love or passion of railroading, for I know that hard work sometimes is what is called for. Even for a hobby, there is never a free ride. One way or another, those end up being paid for.
So I have a great respect and admiration for the men and women who have made it their careers. Many miles traveled to get passengers and goods over the railroad safely. Often long hours under difficult conditions. But that’s what they were there for and they did it.
Today when I don the uniform for a role such as conductor, I do so in their honor. Sure, it can be fun. But if folks hadn’t done it before, I wouldn’t be doing it today.
Railroading has been and always will be about people. Without people, railroads are just so much cold steel. You cannot enjoy (or understand) the technology with the people who use it.
In a coming post, I’ll share the next phase of my interest in railroading and the direction it has taken. Stay tuned!