If there is one thing I like about the New Haven Line, it is that there are always trains passing by. The stretch of track that is the New Haven main line is filled with packed Metro-North trains and intercity Amtrak trains, frequently passing in both directions. Many of the stations I visited on the Harlem Line were far more quiet than here, and I got few photos of trains passing by. Lots of trains always look nice in station panorama photos – so at least the line has that going for it. On the other hand, some of the people that occupy these trains are a bit interesting. I was slightly amused by a man that had a half-done hairdo, as it totally reminded me of this mug shot I saw on the internet (amusingly, this has happened more than once. And one of the instances was in Connecticut). I also witnessed a woman running through the train, dragging along her three children – she was running away from the conductor, as she did not want to pay. Two conductors managed to catch her in the train car behind me, so I’m not exactly sure what happened. Most unfortunately, I did not see any wallabies. I know I’ve mentioned that my favorite question to ask conductors is “what is the craziest thing you’ve seen anyone bring on a train?” The current reigning champion for the craziest thing brought on a Metro-North train is a wallaby, witnessed by blogging New Haven Line conductor Bobby.

Postcard view of Pelham station

Back on topic, today’s panoramic stop on the New Haven Line is Pelham – the second New York state station on the line to be featured here. Pelham is located fifteen miles from Grand Central, and it takes around a half hour to arrive in the city by train. The station is in fact quite charming – surrounded by trees and other greenery. Various shops, including a deli and a few restaurants are all within walking distance. The old station building, built in 1893, still remains, though it is mostly occupied by a real estate office. I was able to see the old ticket windows inside (through the window – I hate how most stations are closed on the weekends!), though Pelham no longer has a ticket agent and all tickets are sold through the TVMs. That’s about all I have for you this morning – enjoy the photographic tour of Pelham:

I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to talk to some really interesting railroad people recently, one of whom is Joe Schiavone, better known in the area as the “Old Put Guy.” He’s just completed his third book on the New York Central’s Putnam Division, but has been a railfan ever since he was very young. When I met him for the first time several weeks ago, he told me that as a young boy taking photographs, getting an invite into the engine happened somewhat frequently. I told him that Metro-North does the same thing for me – except the invite is from the police, and the ride is in a cop car and not a locomotive engine. For me, posting about Melrose is almost like returning to the “scene of the crime.” That is, if photography were a crime. Which it isn’t. Or at least, it shouldn’t be. I will admit that I have bit of a phobia of police, so every time I go out and photograph, this event is on my mind. That, and the fact that some of my conductor friends will never let me live it down.

Plan of the Melrose station, built in the late 1880′s, or early 1890

Today, Melrose isn’t the most spectacular-looking station on the Harlem Line. But at one time, it did have a nice station, built in the late 1880′s, or early 1890. It had all the amenities a station of that era needed: a baggage room, ticket office, telegraph office, a waiting room, and of course access to the low-level platforms and trains. The area was four-tracked even at this early date, though the two middle tracks were separated from the outer tracks by a fence, visible in the station sketch below. The Chief Engineer of the New York Central and Hudson River Railroad at the time was Walter Katte, and he oversaw the work on the Harlem Division, north of the Harlem River Bridge. The line was four-tracked, and the tracks were lowered into the “Harlem Depression,” extending from Melrose to William’s Bridge. He also oversaw the construction of the Park Avenue viaduct, and a drawbridge over the Harlem River.

Sketch of the Melrose station

The only available land owned by the railroad was occupied by the tracks, and thus the logical solution for building the Melrose station was over the tracks. The plans for Melrose were duplicated for several other stations located in the depression, including Morrisania, Tremont, and Fordham. Chief Engineer Katte oversaw the construction of these stations. Built 17 feet above the tracks, the Melrose station was 73 feet wide, and 26 feet long. The waiting room was 18 x 32 feet, and the baggage room was 11 x 12 feet. The station framework was made of iron, and the interior of oak. The exterior was covered with iron panels, and was topped by an ornamental shingled roof. The cost of the station was $22,000, and the platforms cost $1,500.

Photograph of Tremont after construction, circa 1890. The fence dividing the center two express tracks has yet to be built.

The former Morrisania station was one of the other similarly designed stations, photo taken circa 1960.

Chief Engineer Walter Katte is actually an interesting figure in New York railroad history, though not often remembered. Not only did he work on the Harlem Division, but he also oversaw work on the New York Elevated Railroad Company. Between 1877 to 1880 they built the first parts of the Third and Ninth Avenue Els. Katte was born November 4, 1830 in London. He studied at the Kings College School, before serving as a civil engineering apprentice for three years. In 1849 he migrated to the United States and began work as an engineer for various railroads, including the Central Railroad of New Jersey, and the Pennsylvania Railroad. When the Civil War broke out, Katte served as a Colonel of Engineers in the Union Army, and oversaw the construction of several bridges. After the war, he worked for the New York, Ontario, and Western Railroad, and the West Shore Railroad, before becoming the Chief Engineer for the New York Central in 1886. He served in that position until his resignation and retirement in 1898 (William Wilgus ascended to the Chief Engineer’s position in 1899). Katte died in his New York City home on March 4, 1917.

Walter Katte

Last week I finished up posting the stations on the Waterbury Branch – today we’ll visit Stratford, which one can call an “honorary” station on the branch. Stratford is actually considered part of the New Haven main line, but during peak hours one Waterbury Branch train stops in either direction. Unlike most of the Waterbury Branch stations, however, Stratford is actually pretty nice. There are original station buildings on both sides of the tracks, one which houses a coffee shop and restaurant, the other is a museum. I admit it is a little bit strange for a helicopter museum to be housed in a former train station. But remember, we’re in Stratford – the home of Sikorsky Aircraft. Igor Sikorsky‘s helicopter design was the first “practical” helicopter, and the first to be manufactured in a large scale. The National Helicopter Museum celebrates the career of Sikorsky, as well as other historical milestones related to the helicopter.

Back on the subject of trains, Stratford is located 59 miles from Grand Central. The estimated travel time into the city is around an hour and a half. The next station to the west is Bridgeport, and just to the east the Waterbury branch splits from the main line. The next station to the east, located on the main line, is Milford. Although the bulk of the train traffic is Metro-North, some Shore Line East trains do stop. Amtrak trains are visible passing by, but do not make stops at Stratford.

Did I mention that the old station buildings are adorable, and I want them? Unfortunately for me, they are all well used in Stratford, so if I tried to steal one in the middle of the night, somebody would notice.

A train crash postcard

Imagine that we are in the year 1920. A train has just had an accident. As people rush over to attempt to assist, so too does a photographer. Camera in hand, the photographer takes a couple snaps of the wreck. Not only for event detailing purposes, but for postcards too. I’ve become a crazy postcard-collecting nutjob, and every time I see a train crash postcard, it makes me chuckle a little. Postcards were printed with pretty much anything and everything on them… but I suppose it makes sense, they provided an easy way to share (back before we had this thing called internet, boggles the mind!) Of course, it is just human nature to want to see a train crash, or any crash, period. Any person that has ever been in a car moving past an accident knows exactly what I’m talking about.

And if I wanted to send you a LOLCat back in the day, I’d send you this.

Unfortunately, I’ve yet to discover a Harlem Division train crash postcard. I have found quite a few station images, many of which I’ve posted previously. Today I have a few more of those for you, as well as some more “everyday” scenes: track workers at Dover Plains, a locomotive crossing a road in the snow, and horse carts delivering milk to the train station to be transported to the city. Thrown in the mix is a card of the Harlem Valley State Hospital, with the location of the current Harlem Valley-Wingdale station visible.

Make sure you enjoy this somewhat chilly Friday (where’s my hat?!), and don’t get too frustrated if you see anybody rubbernecking on your way home this evening! Just think, hey, that could be on a postcard!

If you missed parts one through four, you can find them here:
Sending Postcards from the Harlem Line, Part 1
Sending Postcards from the Harlem Line, Part 2
Sending Postcards from the Harlem Line, Part 3
Sending Postcards from the Harlem Line, Part 4

Once upon a time (1910), trains to Seymour were this cool.

Other than the aforementioned details, Seymour is a relatively unremarkable station, and not extremely noteworthy for any reason – unless you count homeless people pushing shopping carts. But there is nobody that can tell the story better than Bobby in his post Life on the Waterbury Branch.

It is that time again… time for some Monday morning old photos. Today’s set is back to the 1980′s, and early 1990′s. Though there are a few on the Harlem, several of them are from the New Haven Line. I figured it would be cool to check out some photos not just from the Harlem Line, but from Metro-North in general.

Dear readers, I am certain you are all acquainted with my terrible eBay habit. Lots of the old timetables, photos, and postcards find their way onto this site at some point in time. I must admit though, I love old things. Specifically, old paper things. Maybe it is because I am a graphic designer, and I love looking at old printed art, especially on pre-1900′s timetables and books. Though it is also possible that I’m just a nutjob destined to be one day featured on the show Hoarders. Either way, today I do want to share with you all my most recent acquisition, which is a little bit different than most things I come across on eBay.

If you’ve ever taken the Harlem Line north of White Plains, and past Valhalla, you are most likely familiar with the large cemetery that dominates the view in between stations. Kensico Cemetery shares a nearly mile-long border with the railroad, and astute observers can glimpse the main cemetery office, which once served as a railroad station, on the west side of the tracks. The choice of location of the cemetery isn’t hard to figure out – it offered both a beautifully rural final resting place, and was easily accessible from the city by the railroad. In fact, on the cemetery’s Board of Directors was Chauncey Mitchell Depew, whose name might be familiar, as I posted about him in April. He got his start as the legal counsel for the New York and Harlem Railroad under Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt, and eventually worked his way up to the presidency of the New York Central – conveniently the railroad running right alongside the cemetery. Not only did the cemetery have its own private railroad station, it also had a private railcar named Kensico which could be rented for funerals. In 1910, the rental price for a locomotive with the railcar Kensico attached was $60.00, which today seems like a paltry sum.

All of these things I’ve discovered about the Kensico Cemetery were gleaned from a little hand-bound booklet printed in 1910, titled “Views in the Kensico Cemetery.” I bought the thing just for the single photo of Kensico station, and after flipping through it, I’m glad I did. I love it for the silliest reason, too – at the time of printing, the United States used three-digit phone numbers. There are plenty of things that I don’t really think about, and anything but seven-digit phone numbers are one of them (despite the fact that I know Brazil uses eight digits for cellular numbers, and don’t even get me started about their downright bizarre method of placing long distance calls). The book is chock-full of photos of the cemetery with plenty of open land, a much different view than today’s cemetery with over 130,000 “residents.” Below you’ll find a few of my favorite parts of the booklet, including the photo of Kensico Station.

Today’s stop on our tour of the New Haven Line is the mainline station of South Norwalk – which, like the part of town, is affectionately known as SoNo. Besides New Haven’s Union Station, this is one of the more busy stations along the New Haven that I’ve visited thus far. Like a lot of the stations I’ve seen, there are two station buildings located on either sides of the tracks – one old and one new. On the eastbound/New Haven side of the platform lies the older station building, which was “modernized” in 1994. It is definitely my favorite of the two station buildings. On the westbound/New York side is a much more modern building, completed in 1996. The more modern station’s defining feature is a large metal and glass arch, which provides light for the waiting room inside. That side of the tracks also provides access to a parking garage, and to security offices (is SoNo a really dangerous area? The train station website certainly talks a lot about security). There are little places to pick up food and drinks in both buildings, but they were closed on the weekend when I visited (the bathrooms were also closed, as nobody ever has to go on the weekends).

South Norwalk is 41 miles from Grand Central, though it does have some attractions within walking distance for people who don’t want to head all the way to the city. For anyone interested in trains, the SoNo Switch Tower is a nice place to visit. The Maritime Aquarium is also close by, and is probably my favorite attraction in the area. I mean, how could you not love adorably cute seals?

Morning, folks. Happy Labor Day. Hopefully you don’t have to work today – I may not have to work my “real job” today, but my second job, this site, never really sleeps. This Monday we’ve got some more great photos from “back in the day.” Today’s collection of photos were taken a few decades earlier than the ones posted in Part 1 and 2. I don’t know the photographers either – these are all from slides I’ve acquired and purchased (did I ever mention I was an eBay addict?). I was at Costco the other day getting these slides processed, and I was definitely wondering how many other idiots other than me actually print from slides!

Anyways, all of the photos date from the late 1950′s, or the 1960′s. We’ve got plenty of trains, and a few Harlem Division places you might be familiar with – Chatham, Millerton, Wassaic, and Brewster. There is also a small collection of photos from the Woodlawn and Wakefield area… some of which have trains just passing through (is that a TurboTrain?) There is also a photo of a the Morrisania 138th Street station that no longer exists. All of the photos are a little bit before my time, which is part of the reason why I love them… and I hope you do too.

In two short years our lovely Grand Central Terminal will be celebrating her centennial. In the years that we’ve known her, she has relatively few undiscovered secrets – countless books, documentaries, and articles have told her stories to anyone curious enough. Sure, media outlets always present these as grand, never-before-heard secrets, but for the railfans, we know (and have discussed their veracity endlessly). One can be so caught up in the immense grandeur of the monument designed by Reed, Stem, Warren, Wetmore, and Wilgus (one must never forget Wilgus) that some of the most obvious details are completely overlooked. Perhaps overlooked is not the correct word – as on a normal day one cannot really get a proper look of the exterior of this grand structure. In fact, a closer look is completely blocked by the roadway that diverts traffic around the station – one of the details that won Reed and Stem the contest for design of the station in the first place. Unless you’ve taken the roadway around the station, chances are you’ve not gotten a chance to see up-close the eight-and-a-half foot tall likeness of Cornelius Vanderbilt. Nor have you gotten a good, full-frontal view of the massive sculpture on the front facade (the enormous scale of which is practically imperceptible from the ground). But there are days in which these views are open for all to explore, and to photograph. They may call them Summer Streets, but to me, they are a great time to view Grand Central.

If you are familiar with the concept of Summer Streets, the most typical image that probably comes to mind is a bicycle. For three Saturdays, usually in August, seven miles of street are temporarily closed off to cars – allowing bicyclists, skaters, and pedestrians to stroll to their heart’s content. Although the scene is dominated by the bicyclists, you will definitely see a few photographers (like me!) capturing the view sans the ubiquitous automobile. You can get up close and personal with the Commodore and a perched eagle, and roam around the exterior to see the New York Central (now the Helmsley) Building, which was once viewable behind Grand Central – until it was eclipsed by the Pan Am (now MetLife) Building in 1963.

Both the eagle and the Vanderbilt statue predate the Terminal, but have both returned to stand watch. The cast-iron eagle, with a thirteen-foot wingspan, once perched above Grand Central Depot, the predecessor to today’s Terminal. In the late 90′s the bird was discovered in Bronxville, eventually donated to the MTA, and returned to its historical home. The statue of Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt was designed by Ernst Plassman in 1869, and was relocated to its current home in 1913, when the Terminal was completed. The 35-story building at 230 Park Avenue, originally the New York Central Building, was designed by Warren and Wetmore and completed in 1928.