.It’s easy to understand how the train-bug got to Barney at a young age: One of his earliest memories came from riding with his grandfather on a regular passenger train, where his grandfather somehow talked his way into riding in the baggage car with the doors wide open at speeds up to 50 miles per hour! Standing in what pretty much became a wind tunnel with a locomotive’s horn cutting through the roar of the air would have any young boy enthused, and Barney certainly felt the pull of adrenaline from the experience. His grandfather, also an avid railroad buff, continued to take Barney on side quests to ride excursions, see circus trains, and spend time together trackside appreciating the industry and machinery; The quality time drove the hook deeper and his captivation with railroads only grew – especially after seeing a mainline steam locomotive cruising along a track-speed on one such outing.

The early 1980’s were a tough time for the railroads, especially near Barney’s childhood home in rural Indiana. The ample train-tracks that criss-crossed the farmland were all becoming overgrown and sinking into the plains below as the industry faced hardships with the rise of trucking and private transportation. Still, many railroads persisted, and train enthusiasts had always been motivated to offer excursions and keep machines from yesteryear in service. A group of such people over at the Little River Railroad, an excursion railroad not far from Barney’s home, took note of the young enthusiast that often was trackside when they ran trains with their steam locomotive. At one point, at age 14, Barney was offered a ride in the cab of the locomotive, and soon was offered a chance to pull the throttle on the fire-breathing machine that towered over his young self. This experience led Barney to be around the railroad much more, and he found himself lending his time to paint and maintain the railroad’s passenger cars. His summers in high school were spent at the railroad, and before he even had a driver’s license Barney was trusted as a locomotive engineer. Terry Bloom, the railroad’s owner, gave Barney a green light to be involved in any capacity, and Barney’s dad was in favor as he felt the railroad would keep Barney from getting into trouble. “Boy, how that backfired!”, Barney recounted with a chuckle!

Past Barney’s graduation from high school, he began studying at college but soon would leave his degree in favor of working for the railroads: “I liked trains and kinda liked the money”, he explained bluntly. He found a likeness to working on track and infrastructure for the railroads as he enjoyed seeing a physical product at the end of a day’s work. Working now for the Michigan Southern Railroad, Barney saw first-hand the struggles that came with keeping small shortlines afloat in tough economic circumstances. He and the rest of the track crew would band-aid the line together just enough to the weight of one more train, not knowing if there would be another train afterwards. When Michigan Southern was sold to a larger company, Barney left and found himself with a job offer from Conrail, but quickly made a vertical jump to Amtrak when he was offered an engineer job, a highly-desirably position that offered good pay and decent conditions. 1998 saw Barney travel to world-famous Wilmington, Delaware, for Amtrak’s engineer training program. His instructor promptly called him out on his first day in class as “the real railroader in the room”, given that he was wearing comfortable clothes and had his lunchbox in his lap. His classroom time with Amtrak filled a major gap in his understanding of the railroads, as he knew much about how locomotives and their appliances worked, but not much about why they worked. Several “aha!” moments later, he graduated from the class and began running trains out of Waterloo, Indiana, going west to Chicago and east to Pittsburgh. 11 months later, he was qualified to run trains over 2,500 miles of track, taking the throttle for some of Amtrak’s well-known long distance trains, like the Three Rivers, the Capitol Limited, and the Lake Shore Limited.

Barney’s career with Amtrak had him running trains with a need for precision and quick action. The speedometer on his locomotives often reached 80 and beyond as he hustled his trains across the plains of Ohio and into the western mountains of Pennsylvania. At the time of his employment, Amtrak had a contract with several freight customers to ship small carloads of material on Amtrak trains, adding to the challenge of Barney’s operation. Variable train lengths and weights – with all of the heavy cars on the rear of the train – made being an engineer a constant mental game. He added, “If you knocked over soup in the dining car, you wouldn’t get coffee at the next station!”. Thinking back to his time as a student engineer, Barney remembers one particular instance where his trainer was sitting behind him reading a newspaper as his train toiled across the plains of Indiana. Coming up to a downgrade, Barney was slow to kick his brakes on, and his train suddenly was traveling well-beyond the posted speed limit! He managed to get the speed down before too long, and noticed his trainer had set his newspaper down and was peering at him with a sly smile. He remembers the trainer saying “I bet you won’t do that again” with a chuckle, a moment that showed Barney that the best teachers will let you screw up and learn from yourself. Further, he found that learning what not to do can be as important – if not more– than learning what to do in many cases, even outside of railroading. All seven years of Barney’s Amtrak career were spent on the extra board, meaning that he was called for jobs at inconstant hours and spent many nights – over 200 by his count – in hotels away from home. Amtrak taught him how to really run trains and gave him the invaluable skill of being an engineer, but he was ready for a lifestyle that left him home with his wife more once year eight came around.

Past Amtrak, Barney began on his tricks of bouncing between rural shortlines in Indiana again, even working as the Chief Mechanical Officer for the Steam Railroading Institute – the nonprofit that serves as the caretaker for the famed Pere Marquette 1225 locomotive – for a brief period. All while moving between these different railroads, a new project was forming in his garage, much to the surprise of his neighbors. At the encouragement of Terry Bloom, Barney had purchased his first steam locomotive in 1991, and had been tinkering with it in his free time. Flagg Coal 75 is a small 0-4-0 type locomotive, known as a “tank engine” as it carries water in a large cistern mounted on top the boiler. The small locomotive spent it’s life in service working at coal mines in northeast Pennsylvania after being built by the Vulcan Locomotive works in the early 1930s. Unintimidated by the project before him, many people around Barney began to doubt the engine would ever run – all the more motivation for him to finish this long shot project. The restoration was much easier said than done though, and even involved him buying a second locomotive of a similar make to use as a parts source!

Barney succeeded with the help of his dad and support from his wife, and a new endeavor was born from their restoration efforts. After taking the locomotive to Trainfest in 2004 to join a slew of other steam locomotives in a celebration of railroading, Barney saw just how easy it was to load up the small engine onto a lowboy and bring it to anywhere with track. Before long Barney and his dad found themselves “on tour”, taking their tank engine to small tourist railroads around the country without the means to restore their own locomotive, offering small communities a chance to see and ride behind a steam engine where it otherwise wouldn’t be possible. They even offered opportunities for guests to climb into the cab and operate the locomotive, giving many people a chance to be an engineer, just like he was given at 14-years-old. With a fleet of now three operable tank engines, all from the same manufacturer and about the same vintage, Barney and his father spent a handful of years running their locomotives at 30 different railroads across 23 states! The operational and mechanical challenges of keeping the locomotives steaming without a dedicated steam shop lead to many adaptations to the locomotives however, including the installation of some modern hardware in a historic sense. Barney explained that should a part fail on a locomotive, he can simply run to a local hardware store and find a replacement valve in many cases thanks to his adaptations. Plus, railroads surely would have adapted the same practices should steam still be the standard power, he believes!

After long tours with their locomotives Barney has scaled back on traveling with steam, but still makes a few trips every year to a handful of museums and tourist railways. He’s also since returned to the Indiana Northeastern Railroad, running trains and continuing to hone craft of being an engineer that he first learned at just 14 years old. His time in the railroad industry – working on the mainlines, shortlines, and in the historic realm – has taught him the power a railroad holds in their communities. He’s seen lovers reunited on station platforms, farmers send out their livelihood in hopper cars, and families come together to enjoy a train ride, one of life more simple pleasures. Further, he’s beyond proud of he and his dad’s efforts in their traveling tank engines, having facilitated so many people from all walks of life achieve a dream of running a steam locomotive. He noted that he loves seeing people have fun and learn something, especially “Kids that are 90 years old or kids that are 5 years old”. He feels that his tank engines are small enough not to be scary, but once his guests climb into the cab they know they’re on a real locomotive. He recalls once helping a legally blind young man run one of his tank engines, and practically became blind himself as he fought off tears as the young man’s family cheered them on. Similarly, a 96-year-old man who spent his career as a roundhouse foreman for the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad came to see one of his locomotives, and Barney could see the gentleman reliving his past life through the machine he worked hand-over-foot to restore. His hope with his efforts is to usher a new generation of steam and railroad enthusiasts, who have passion but also drive and capability to keep these machines running and inspiring people to come together. A generous and jovial crew got Barney started with railroading well before he knew the trouble it would cause, and after a life, passion, and career with trains, Barney wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Thanks all for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle, and thanks to Barney Gramling for sharing his story with us! Tune in next month for another spotlight of a dedicated railroader and preservationist! Until then, I’m Max Harris – joined by Nick Martin and Jonah Collins – and I’ll see you down the line.

Safety is a word embedded in railroad culture nowadays – and the reasoning for it is frank: Trains are big, heavy, and can kill you. Railroading has always been a potentially hazardous career path, and am emphasis on working safely is paramount to conducting any business around a railroad. Though this rhetoric was not always the status quo – as Mike would tell you from his experience running locomotives at 16 years old after sneaking aboard a friend’s train for a cab ride. You didn’t have to look far to find a train in Littleton, Colorado, where Mike grew up in the 1960s. His father was an avid history enthusiast, which turned out to be a gateway for a love for railroads and eventually prompted him to open a hobby shop in their hometown. Mike quite literally “caught the bug” for liking trains, as evidenced by him actually throwing up from excitement before riding an excursion train on the Colorado and Southern in his early years! Painting the railroad tracks with his breakfast was the beginning of a long, complicated passion that would guide him to jobs, opportunities, and purpose throughout life. He began reading – mostly historical accounts – about Colorado and the railroads that conquered the state’s technical geography, and found himself trackside to wave to crews of the C&S, Santa Fe, and Denver Rio Grande and Western trains that grew shorter and more infrequent every day. He recalls him and some friends going to see the last passenger train ever operated by the railroad on the day before Amtrak would be formed and assume all passenger trains in the area in 1971. They all decided to jump on and ride the train one last time before Littleton Station would become just a wayside monument to its former self. The railroad industry was struggling in this era, but Mike was transfixed as he watched with his own eyes what would become a depressing chapter in today’s history books.

Upon leaving high school, Mike saw many of his friends hire out with the mighty D&RGW, the railroad known for running through the Rocky Mountains, not around them. His own drive to hire out had stalled after the same friend who once let him tag along for cab rides through the Moffat Tunnel recounted working conditions of early calls, long days, and not much time at home. Instead, he decided to pursue his passion for art, with hopes of being a teacher. He enrolled at Fort Lewis College in rural Durango, Colorado– a choice motivated by the in-state tuition, distance from home, and of course the famous Silverton Branch of the D&RGW. He returned to Littleton after his first year of school in 1975 to help run his dad’s hobby shop after a year of general education courses and observing the steam railroad find ways to survive in the late 20th century – rekindling his own desire to find a career on a railroad. After his sophomore year of school, he spent the summer working at the Georgetown Loop, another tourist railroad that used steam locomotives and vintage train cars to provide views of the beautiful Colorado landscapes, getting an introduction to the various trades involved with keeping steam locomotives in operation. The next year he marked up as an engineer on the Loop, having learned the craft from men who had been railroading since the golden era of the industry. Following his graduation, he ping-ponged between the Loop and Durango – interrupted by a brief stint at the Cumbres and Toltec Scenic Railroad – where he and his now-wife decided to try and make the little town of Durango their permanent landing. Mike took up substitute teaching while history was once again being written on the Silverton Branch as the mighty D&RGW sold off the line to a new operator with hopes of turning the podunk branch into a worldwide tourist attraction. Hoping to finally break into the railroad scene in Durango, Mike made his presence known around the roundhouse, and after some persuasion and a promise to always show up, he was hired onto the Durango and Silverton as their 12th employee. His first job was working overnight to keep the locomotives ready for their next call to service after a day of running the 45 miles between the two namesake towns, but the need for more enginemen in the operating department would soon bring Mike back into the cab of a steam locomotive, carrying trains on his back while he shoveled coal for three hours straight on the journey through the San Juan mountains. Workplace culture at the time was tough, and the hours were tougher. Gruff men who didn’t take kindly to Mike’s self-stated “hippy” identity would work the engines hard, making the job of the fireman even harder. Crews consistently worked shifts longer than the sun was up, and Mike would return home from work several shades darker and several pounds lighter. But the steady paychecks and his overall love for the craft kept him at the railroad, and those who live in Durango know that it’s a hard town to stay in, but even harder to leave.

1984 saw a job offer for Mike to work as a machinist in the Durango and Silverton shops after bouncing between general labor, swing shifts, and firing for many years. His breadth of knowledge and technical abilities far surpassed what his younger self could have ever imagined, and he was grateful to have found a place in both the industry and town that he loved – though, the tough culture at the railroad had taken a toll on him and his coworkers. A safety-sensitive incident was the breaking point for Mike – but it also inspired a new appreciation for safe working principles that would guide him later. He and his wife went north to Grand Junction, where Mike worked as a teacher and paint salesman and would journey across the state in the summers to resume his employment at the Georgetown Loop. He would however travel back to Grand Junction between his workweeks to see his wife, a promise that his boss at the Loop forced him to hold true on. This arrangement went on for two years until a former coworker called with information about a new railroad prospect in Arizona: An old freight line from the Santa Fe was being reborn to become a tourist hauler to the Grand Canyon, and Mike came in with enthusiasm to help begin the railroad, though this time, he maintained the contents of his stomach.

The small crew building a railroad operation from the ground up meant that no person wore just one hat, and Mike eventually found himself in the role of overseeing railroad operations, dispatching, and rules. After years of slaving over shovels, lathes, boilers, and amelite grease guns, Mike learned to railroad with the hardest tool of all: A pen! It took months of studying the Code of Federal Regulation (CFR), historical rule books, track warrants, and so much more literature to even begin to frame how the paper side of this steel-based industry operates. Having seen three railroads now go through a similar rebirth, this was Mike’s first time directly being a part of the process. The railroad wasted no time in getting started with running trains though, operating while every facet of the young company was under construction. The time served as an opportunity to experiment and test with rules and operating practices, seeing what worked in the field and what did not as Mike drew up the Timetables and Special Instructions for the railroad’s rule books (with his wife doing the artwork). The elementary months of the Grand Canyon Railway were the foundation for building the theory behind the rules, and this process came with many challenges, failures, struggles. Being the trainmaster of the blooming railroad was demanding and painstaking, Mike would recount this job being “The hardest thing I’ve ever done!” He can specifically recall battling a language barrier with some of the maintenance-of-way employees who spoke primarily Spanish; having them understand the reasoning behind why certain rules existed was a challenge his broken Spanish was not equipped for – especially since he had just found himself understanding the theory behind the rules. However, on a recent visit to his former workplace, Mike was proud to connect with one such employee who now is in charge of the whole roadway department!

Mike’s tenure with the Grand Canyon is one of the proudest hallmarks of his railroad career, but he felt a call to move once the railroad had gotten off the ground. He took a job as a state Rail Safety Inspector in Arizona, and later was recruited by the Federal Railroad Administration to oversee projects all across the western United States in 1997. He was first stationed in California, inspecting operating practices of the various railroads that spanned across the lengthy state. This work was a new challenge for Mike, but his experience of understanding the relationship between rules at the GCRY helped him look to see the larger system one line of text in a rulebook would contribute to – a point he would preach to the many individuals he oversaw. He continued with the FRA, taking an inspector position in 2003 that would bring him home to Colorado and soon be responsible for system safety across all passenger railroads in the greater area. Through Mike’s career with the FRA – especially in this new role – he hoped to emphasize a proactive approach to safety that encourages all the players in building, maintaining, and operating railroads to think about how their roles work as a system. He oversaw the compliance of several short-line rail and commuter outfits during his time, along with advising on continual upgrades to existing infrastructure and prospective future operations, giving advise that came from historical, operational, and sometimes even artistic perspetives. Mike also worked between other transportation agencies – namely the Federal Transit Administration – to understand their practices and continue to empower employee bodies to be advocates of safety. Mike was proud to have touched so many operations in a field he truly believes in, and though much of his work was overshadowed by administration turnovers, his career with the FRA made a lasting impact in the safety culture that is essential for getting trains to their destinations and getting railroaders home every night.

Even after retiring back to the quaint town of Durango, Mike once again found himself neck deep in a rule book, now serving as a safety consultant (and occasional fireman) for the Durango and Silverton and their sister railroads owned by the same company. His hope for the future of railroading – both as a train enthusiast but also still “the safety guy” – is for competent groups of railroaders to use rulebooks as directions for solving problems and working as safely and efficiently as possible. While rules are not the “sexiest” part of railroading (already a low bar), they serve an important function to protect the most important thing carried by trains – people. With a career spent bouncing between railroads and different trades at each respective site, Mike always walks on the safe side, and hopes to have empowered others to do the same – all while loving the craft that became his life.

Thank you all for reading this installment of Behind the Throttle, and thanks to Mike for joining us! Tune in for our May issue publishing the first Monday of the month. In the meantime, I’m Max Harris – joined by Nick Martin and Jonah Collins – and we’ll see you down the line.

Maddie’s earliest memories take her to beautiful southwestern Colorado onboard the famed Durango and Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad. Growing up in Albuquerque, her family was only three hours away from the quaint mountain town that was the namesake of the massive tourist railroad, known for their unremitting use of steam locomotives and splendid views only viewable by rail. Though Maddie’s specific memories from early trips to Durango do not come from the trains themselves, but rather riding in the open-air gondola cars and waving to those just outside the right-of-way as they watch the train go by. Something about how motorists, pedestrians, and locals alike would stop to watch and wave to the train excited her in a way she had not felt before, and that feeling was strong enough to keep her interest for trains going. Her great-grandfather had worked for Atchison Topeka and Santa Fe railroad, and her grandfather had taken note of her budding fascination. He would tell Maddie stories of his dad’s time working for the mighty Santa Fe in their hometown, and made a point to visit the park display that housed the ATSF No. 2926, a massive 4-8-4 steam locomotive that once danced across the southwest at speeds up to 80 miles per hour. These day-trips with her grandpa became treasured memories and helped solidify the idea that with trains comes community. To this day, Maddie holds onto a pocket watch that once belonged to her great-grandfather, with the special timepiece employing two hour hands – one for each time zone that his territory occupied.

After graduating high school, Maddie went onto higher studies at the University of Idaho in a small town called Moscow, Idaho. Her studies in school overlapped with her studies of the local railroad scene, as she found herself trackside to observe the rail operations just as often as she was in class! Her interest in railroad was obvious to the local crews of the shortline railroad than ran through Moscow, and Maddie eventually befriended many of the crew members and was treated to cab rides and opportunities to see the craft of railroading from a whole new lens. Always an observer from the outside, this new perspective started an appreciation for the craft of railroading that later would become a huge part of Maddie’s life. In 2010, Maddie graduated from university and opted to stay in the area that she had grown fond of, finding work in the electronics field, and later moving onto a job driving for the local transit agency in the town of Pullman, Washington.

The next several years saw Maddie continuing to work for Pullman Transit, and finding a love for working with the public. She even began to volunteer with Operation Lifesaver to conduct safety seminars at local schools, talking about the importance of railroad safety to the youth. In 2018, one of the railroads that Maddie had spent the better part of her college career watching shuttered, and a the bedrock for a new opportunity was laid. A few more years passing saw a group of interested entrepreneurs and railroaders eye the line for a revival under a new company, and they soon turned to Maddie for her expertise on how the previous iteration of the railroad operated. Her insights earned her a defacto role as a consultant with this motivated group, and eventual transpired into her being asked to come on a part-owner. In her words, she “would never had asked, but was hoping they might ask her” about the opportunity to buy-in, and she didn’t hesitate to join the efforts to restart a railroad she believed in. The 21-mile railroad follows along the Palouse River originating from the town of Potlatch, Idaho, with many scenic stretches as the railroad works towards its terminus at a large lumber mill. The lumber mill had opted to buy the abandoned right-of-way and contract the operations to this new company, a plan that would take several years to get off the ground, and not without lots of hard work from a small group, now including Maddie.

Maddie’s railroad adventures began as an enthused passenger and railfan, but she never expected for her passion to take on the form of a career and investment. Though, 2023 came with the opportunity for Maddie to learn to be a railroader, and also understand the business and economics of what it takes to run a railroad. She and the other co-owners of the railroad worked to redeck bridges, install ties, and build up the necessary equipment and infrastructure for the better part of two years, all while still holding day-jobs and working on the railroad in the darkest hours of the night. The first train hauling ballast to refine the right-of-way voyaged over the railroad ran on February 21st, 2025, with revenue runs following a few months later. Maddie was quick to get her feet wet in the world of operations as she continued to figure out her role with the young company. She can recall that she was excited to be around trains in an operating sense, but had to tamp down her enthusiasm at times in favor of maintaining a safe headspace to work in. Learning what all the terms she had heard muttered on the radio – after years of holding a scanner at her ear while awaiting the next train – actually meant was a lesson that stood out, especially the term “red zone” (three-step for my eastern audience), which is what a train crew member on the ground says to one in control of a locomotive to ensure the train will not move while they work between the cars. After being around for a few months of bringing empty lumber cars to the mill and returning loaded ones to the interchange track in Palouse, Maddie marked up as a conductor, a milestone she is proud to have accomplished. From her first cab ride ever in 2006 with the crew of the Washington and Idaho Railroad - the previous operator of the line - she now rides the same route as a co-owner, helping rebuild a network of infrastructure one lumber car at a time.

Now holding a conductor’s card and spending most weeknights at the railroad’s terminus in Palouse, Maddie sees the industry and trains with a much wider scope. “Even as a shortline, you have a large impact on your community…”, she explained to me – something she learned as many of the locals in the town came out to see the restarted-operations shine rails that they had thought rusted over for good. At first, Maddie and the team at the Washington Idaho and Montana Railroad were worried about the public reaction to trains coming back, but those worries were quickly dismissed when the community all backed their project with enthusiasm. The railroad has taken to their interest and began hosting events – including a haunted locomotive attraction and bringing Santa Clause to town – all while giving a positive economic impression. The railroad has eventual goals of being a larger force for their publics, including potential passenger train rides in the long term. In the meantime though, Maddie is proud to have been a part of building a new network of railroading and is excited to see her little operation – and herself – grow. In the meantime though, Maddie will continue to wave at everyone outside of the right-of-way, just as she did on her first train ride of many.

Thank you everyone for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle, and thank you to Maddie for joining us on the blog! Going forward, we’ll be publishing on the first Monday of every month, so stay tuned for April’s edition featuring another western railroader who learned to work on the side safe. Until then, I’m Max Harris – joined by Jonah Collins and Nick Martin – and we’ll see you down the line.

John Henry McDonnell sits in the Master Mechanic’s office of a dense historical site in remote Nevada that boasts a campus of industrial heritage, including a fleet of operating locomotives and trains. He had grown fond of a particular class of locomotive - Alco RS series diesels – of which the Nevada Northern Railway Museum had two at the time. However, with both RS-2 No. 105 and RS-3 No. 109 out of service due to a lack of cylinder liners for the insides of their massive prime movers, John Henry set out on a wild goose chase by literally cold-calling every possible phone number he could find. A few weeks of lunch breaks were spent with him neck deep in a phonebook of other museums, junkyards, and collectors – until he found one person who owned several pallets of the rare part. “Where the hell did you get all these? Nevermind I’ll take ‘em!” His great cylinder liner-hunt was just one of the many special projects he took on as the Nevada Northern became his home, and as old machines became his trade.

Bearing the name of an old railroad folklore figure (but not for any reason relating to railroads), John Henry McDonnell seemed destined for a life above steel rails. A Lionel model train was the culprit for John Henry’s early fascination with trains. He can recall that after unwrapping the train set on Christmas morning when he was four years old, he refused to open any other gifts and insisted on getting his new toy up and running. Though his interest was already blooming – the trains seen around his childhood home in south central Florida intrigued him in a way his parents knew meant something special. His family ties to the railroad were slim, but one of his great uncles had spent his career working on wreck trains for the Central Railroad of New Jersey – with one of the wreck cranes operated by is crew being preserved at Steamtown National Park, not far from where his grandparents lived in the Northeast. Seeing his liking of trains, visits to this side of the family also meant the McDonnell’s would spend time at the famed National Park, riding trains and seeing the equipment of yesteryear. Back on the homefront in Florida, a model railroad appeared in the house and John Henry’s dad soon discovered a live steam club nearby, where John Henry began working on what he called “real trains, just smaller!” Around his 16th birthday, John Henry did the reasonable thing and spent the savings he set aside for a car on his own live-steam locomotive, with that little engine becoming a foundation for the mechanical knowledge he would soon build a mountain onto. He even brought the locomotive to his high school once, and with track he built from 2”x4”s he let his classmates run the engine back and forth, though he recalls people were only mildly amused by this impressive feat.

Another visit to Steamtown in his early teenage years led John Henry to discover “Railcamp”, an experience offered in Scranton and at other heritage railroad sites across the country. John Henry had begun writing his application before he even heard all the details, and was soon admitted to the immersive camp that gives young people a taste of all things railroad for a week. He attended the offering in Scranton first, then ventured out to the remote desert of Nevada to attend the camp at the Nevada Northern Railway Museum. As soon as he arrived in Ely, he felt a strong pull to the location; the camp scratched the surface of some itch he had only begun to discover, and he knew there was more to explore. He remained in touch with the folks at the railroad, and reached out about an “internship” that would satisfy a graduation requirement of his high school. The railroad had never considered an intern program before, but opted to give it a try and use John Henry as a guinea pig in some right. His summer was spent both getting dirty in the shop and on the trains the museum would operate, and from there John Henry was sold: Ely was the destination. He returned home to finish out his last year of high school before packing his bags and heading west – this time for good.

No sooner than arriving in Ely for the third time was John Henry on site at the railroad. Despite his mechanical inclination, John Henry was first hired onto the railroad as a part of the maintenance-of-way crew, helping ensure the track was safe for trains to run on When there was no work to do on track, John Henry found himself in the shop where there was never a shortage of tasks that needed to be done, and no shortage of questions John Henry wanted to ask the master mechanic – Al Gledhill. Al began to take a liking to John Henry and put him to work as much as he could, knowing he’d probably go onto be a mechanic once a spot opened up for him. Looking for some higher vocational training, John Henry researched college courses in the area and found a technical college in the town of Elko, about three hours north of Ely. He enrolled in their millwright program for the Fall to learn the basics of shopwork in a classroom setting, then would go to practice his new skills (and learn a ton of new swear words) at the railroad shop on the weekends. John Henry was voracious – he tore through his studies and worked long hours at the railroad, striking the knowledge while it was hot and immediately seeing his new skills in practice at a place he cared deeply for. After completing his degree in the millwright program, he had also amassed a handful of certifications at the railroad and was running and firing the steam locomotives that were the pride of the Nevada Northern. Many of these trips were made working with his friend Anthony DeBellis, who is just a year younger than John Henry, making the engine crew of the Nevada Northern collectively aged 37 between the two!

With one degree in his toolkit, John Henry began looking for more opportunities to learn. A machinist program in Carson City, Nevada seemed like an obvious next step, so John Henry enrolled and began to make long commutes between Carson City and Ely to learn on the weekdays and do on the weekends. He also began to volunteer with the Nevada State Railroad Museum in Carson City while in his program, and got to diversify his knowledge of railroad operations and mechanics with even more old machines that he took pride in maintaining. Graduating from this program in 2015, he moved back to Ely to learn that his alma mater of Great Basin Technical College was now offering a diesel mechanics program, and so he once again got his studies on and cursed at the machines he was learning to fix when not in a classroom. His appetite for knowledge was known by the railroad and they invested all they could to help him grow, something John Henry feels quite grateful for. Most all of what he learned in his studies has come back to help in the mysteries of working on antique machines, and he made sure to save his notes knowing they’d come in handy again soon.

Armed with three degrees in various mechanical fields, John Henry was now working in the shop of the Nevada Northern and leading restorations that seemed impossible to a younger version of himself. The railroad always had their hands full with restorations and ongoing maintenance, and John Henry picked up a few pet projects that he hoped to see to fruition. The first of which was finding the cylinder liners for the two RS series locomotives at the railroad, to which he accomplished and helped ensure the railroad would have stockpiles of this part for years to come. Later, he would work with master mechanic Henry Stewart on the retubing of the boiler of one of the railroad’s three steam locomotives, No. 93. Al Gledhill passed away suddenly before the overhaul of the locomotive which left the railroad in a pinch, as with his passing was also the disappearance of decades of knowledge and experience. John Henry would then serve as the lead on returning the railroad’s second 2-8-0 to steam after sitting dormant for almost 70 years, working closely with Gary North - a machinist that had worked for the mining company that kept Ely on the map. John Henry likely drove North crazy with questions just the same as he had done to Al, and now he made sure to trickle knowledge down at every opportunity to anyone who wanted to learn. He stepped into the Master Mechanic’s role a few years after Gledhill’s passing once Steward retired, and now made sure to leave no bolt unturned in learning the skills of the people who came before him.

Standing at 6’8”, it’s an impressive feat to see John Henry McDonnell negotiate into the tight and confined spaces that old machines typically require their caretakers to become intimately familiar with. John Henry recounted the first time he wiggled himself into the firebox of a locomotive, fixing a mistake he made when laying a firebed of coal for the engine to burn the next day. He recalls it being an awkward fit, but he knew he was fixing his own mistake and this would prove why he shouldn’t do the same thing again. Lessons like these are things he carries forward now to the role he occupies, where he often sees young people come in and out of his shop, all hoping to take some skills with them. Especially with the interns the railroad brings on every summer (the program that he piloted), he tries to take a hands-on approach to teaching and asks the question “does that make sense” after every explanation he offers. He encourages questions, no matter how basic they seem, saying, “I might tease ya’ a little, but come ask anything and I’ll do my best to make you understand.” He noted too, “I’m still learning myself!” Having been the Master Mechanic of the famed national historic landmark for five years now, he hopes those who started in his shop and moved on took lessons and skills with them – both technical skills and how to effectively convey knowledge to those you’re working alongside. He tries to maintain a calm demeanor when working with his crews, noting that anger and ego do not contribute much to actually solving problems and getting equipment running. A fluent team of mechanics, machinists, and enthusiasts has always been the mantra that John Henry works to maintain in his shop, and he is proud of all the work he’s done to bring a piece of the past into the future while teaching visitors, volunteers, and staff alike on how to care for the equipment – and each other.

Thank you for reading our first full feature of Edition 3, and thank you to John Henry for sharing his story with us! Our next feature will detail the life of a railroad enthusiast who found themselves owning part of a start-up shortline railroad, make sure to follow along! Until then, I’m Max Harris – joined by Nick Martin and Jonah Collins – and we’ll see you down the line.

“It’s more a love for the craft of railroading than anything else for me.”

With an effortless glide of his left hand, Nick Breeden grabs the shiny brass handle of the automatic brake, reducing the train line brake pressure with precision. Our humble chariot is a class K-28 locomotive, built in 1923 by the Alco Locomotive Works. Behind us, some 400 people are enjoying a peaceful ride on the Durango and Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad, taking in the sights of the Animas Canyon and the experience of riding behind a century-old machine. Isolated from the passengers though, Nick and I share our thoughts on the industry that has become our lives as we take the train 45 miles down steep grades and sharp curves. Having both worked at a handful of railroads prior to landing in Durango, Colorado, we agree that while the trains we operate and work with are fascinating, the lifestyle of railroading and is really what resonates with us.

Something about trains just captivates mankind; Like beavers see a rushing river and think “build dam”, humans once saw a great plain or valley and thought “build railroad”. Even now, we all stop to watch as a train goes by, we all know some folklore about trains, and most everyone has a family member that worked for the railroads. Trains have some inherent attractive trait that always lead us excited – or even curious. But one step further, those inside the railroad universe know of a universe consisting of tales and characters far beyond what could ever be written down. The sciences, arts, rules, and stories that all play into railroading make up a world that is so much more dense than one might expect. It’s this allure that took me to start writing stories back when I was just 17 as I began to uncover this all myself, and what keeps me invested to this day. Trains always find a new way to surprise me, and I learn something new every day that I railroad.

Edition two of Behind the Throttle introduced us to engineers, administrators, machinists, conductors, and more - all of those people railroaders. Each of their crafts all play into the larger machine that turns the wheels of the railroad machine, keeping trains moving, water boiling, and people smiling. Out last edition was a triumph for me, where I once again got to learn and share the stories of folks who railroad in some way or another, and I look forward to doing it again in Edition Three of the course of the next several months. My intent to share ideas of positivity, passion, inspiration, and gratitude has matured into writing stories that express celebrations and hopes, and as we recognize the achievements of those spotlighted, we share their ambitions for what comes next. Similarly, I am excited to highlight the ideas of culture and the bonds that come from those within the industry, discussing the lives that bloom from a career and the families that form along the right-of-way

As Nick and I worked together to keep our locomotive steaming and train running, we’re both participating in a time-vested occupation. Even our little steam railroad that exists now just for tourist traffic has evolved and changed in time, finding new ways to overcome challenges and circumstances – overall continuing to run. Every railroad comes with a story, and most of them are still being written – just the same as the stories of the men and women who operate them. Railroaders write their stories with spike mauls, shovels, radios, hand signals, lathes, welding irons, lanterns, and more – but above all they move forward with passion and determination. As always, we look forward to sharing their stories, giving them all a voice, and preserving their lessons for those who come next.

Thanks for reading along. Stay tuned for edition three, and as always, I’ll see you down the line.

Our second preface story touches on the ideas of personal fulfillment and family through railroading. Coworkers can often become a much bigger part of your life than you’d think, but the railroad world takes that expectation and raises the bet. The time spent together by railroaders can be some of the most grueling work, and it happens through all of our personal highs and lows. Today on Behind the Throttle, we meet someone who grew up in the railroad world, and grew into the larger family as she made the craft a part of her own identity.

“…overtime I began to think, how can I make (railroading) my own thing?”

It’s a hot summer day in New South Wales, Australia. Gemalla de Beuzeville is reasonably uncomfortable with the heat, the smoke and cinders, and the de facto babysitter role she had been assigned. Then she got into the cab of a steam locomotive, and everything changed.

Gemalla’s mother (previously featured on Edition 2 of Behind the Throttle) had been around trains all her life, and exposed her children to railways just the same. The family grew up in Lithgow Valley, not far from the Zig Zag Railway, where Gemalla and her family spent many weekends. Trains were always “mom’s thing”, Gemalla thought for most of her childhood, thinking of her mom when she heard a train whistle off, and knowing that a weekend with mom meant “spending time in some smoky atmosphere”. Her early exposure to railroading also normalized lots of the ideas of railroad culture – where you arrive early, leave late, and spend a whole day with the same group of people. Though it wasn’t until her first cab ride during her later teenage years, taking in all of the action of a coal-fired steam locomotive unencumbered by her siblings, that she felt a thought every rebellious child dreads: “Damnit, Mom was right!”

Prior to her cab ride, where the noise of the outside world was drowned out by the clattering of a shovel and chuffing of exhaust, Gemalla had never seen a future for herself in railroading. As she descended from the cab following her ride, however, she was already thinking of how to get involved herself. In her final years of high school, Gemalla had begun to carriage host on the excursions that her mom was now overseeing with mainline excursion operator “The Picnic Train”, and soon took on working in railroad operations through the freight partner of the excursion trains, Sydney Rail Services. In school, Gemalla has been fascinated with the sciences – namely chemistry and physics – and saw the principles of these sciences unfolding in the real world through the big heavy machines moving around her – manipulating fire and water to make power that moves thousands of tonnes, all while giving hundreds of families an outing they will surely cherish. The itch to railroad reshaped her future, and though she remains on track with becoming an educator, her approaches and outlooks on education have drastically evolved thanks to her railroad experiences.

Gemalla worked tirelessly alongside her university studies to make it as a railroader. She began attending Safework training, which had her learn how to shunt cars, move locomotives, give hand/lamp signals, and talk on the radio in railway speak. She remembers learning the term “red light”, which means that she will be going in-between carriages in close proximity, a precarious place to put oneself if your crew isn’t aware. The term “red light” comes from the multi-colored lamps Australian railway workers once carried while shunting in the dark in a time before radio communications (modern versions of these lamps are still used today in many cases!). Gemalla had seen historic examples of these lamps at the Zig Zag way back, and saw a unique connection to history and practicality with how the term still has a place in the modern world, protecting workers just the same as the lamps have for centuries. After a few months of training, Gemalla received a check-off as a guard to work the ground on her own, calling movements to build trains and get them over the road to their destination. On her first day though, she remembers fighting to put together air hoses for the brakes while her driver kept asking what the hold-up was. After taking a moment to compose herself, the same voice chirped through her radio, saying something along the lines of: “When you’re out there, you need to be able to do this on your own.” With a firm drive, a little bit of anger, and a whole lot of determination, she got her train ready and they took the main bound for the ports of Sydney.

Keeping up with the family, Gemalla continues to help out with the excursions her mom manages, though often finds herself doing homework in the crew van after the days are underway. The Picnic Train’s operations have mirrored something she observed while hanging around the Zig Zag, and sees working in freight: The strange nature of intimacy that comes with railroading. Working on a railroad involves a high degree of trust with your coworkers, and means you’ll spend more hours than not with them, usually in close quarters. Gemalla began to learn things about her coworkers and fellow volunteers that can only be described as familial, just as her coworkers would learn how she operated too. She described it as beautiful in a way, being able to work with a group of people and help each other so the organization can reach it’s common goal. Her railroad family has seen her grow up and learn, on her best days and her worst, but they all still function to get the train to where it needs to be. “It’s a big family, we all have lives outside of it but we come together to railroad.”

The identity of being a railroad worker has resonated well with Gemalla, and she is proud to be a part of such a storied industry that continues to challenge and reward her. In July of this past year, she marked up as a driver (engineer) for Sydney Rail Services, the first woman to ever accomplish this mark. She will graduate from the University of Newcastle in just a few short months and begin a journey to educate the youth on science and math, all while spending her weekends running trains and giving smiles to the young and young-at-heart. Having followed in her mother’s footsteps, Gemalla de Beuzeville now blazes her own path behind the regulator with her railroad family at her side.

Thank you for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle! Edition 3 is shaping up to be rather exciting with many great spotlights in the pipeline. Tune in next week for our formal Edition 3 Introduction, and later in January for our first full spotlight. Until then, I’m Max Harris – joined by Jonah Collins and Nick Martin – and we’ll see you down the line.

It’s June 1979 in Durango Colorado. The air is warm, the town is teeming with tourists, and blue smoke is belching from the tailpipe of Scott Graham’s International Travelall as he trots home from a day’s work. His overalls are heavy with coal soot and grease, and his hard hat has deteriorated from its bright blue color to a dark shade, withered from months of tending to three locomotives that became his livelihood. Totally green to the world of trains and railroading, Scott found himself with the opportunity of a lifetime in between semesters, working on one of the most storied railroad branch lines in the American Southwest – an opportunity that he took, loved, and then left behind.

Growing up in Durango, a locomotive’s whistle was never far off. The Silverton branch of the Denver and Rio Grande Western has been running continuously since 1881, hauling freight and mining ore between the two towns on a narrow gauge line through some of the most beautiful – yet treacherous – terrain viewable by rail. The scenery would lead to the eventual tourist-ification on the rail line and surrounding town, keeping the railroad running far past the freight and mining downturn. Scott spent his summers in high school around the train, working in what was called the “Coke Car” – the name for the train car that would sell snacks and Coke products to passengers onboard. Scott considered his role in the Coke Car a thrill, but he had no idea what would come next: The illustrious opportunity to sweep the shop floor of the Durango roundhouse! It may not sound appealing to most – but to Scott, this was his foot-in-the-door to a grand operation. A curtain had been lifted from him as he entered the roundhouse for the first time in 1979 as an employee, proudly wearing the boots, bib overalls, half-sleeves, and gloves that he bought with money borrowed from his parents.

The Memorial-Day-to-Labor-Day schedule of trains meant that many tenured (or senior) employees of the D&RGW would bid to work in Durango for their summers, mostly coming from the shops in Alamosa, Colorado. The guys that would bid out would spend the first few weeks of their time in Durango performing maintenance and tests on the three class K-28 class steam locomotives that were the entire operating fleet of the railroad. The rest of summer would be spent catching up to the engines with the never-ending battle of maintaining a steam locomotive. The shop team also shared in the responsibility of operating the engines on the railroad, with many of the employees being both engineers and firemen, trained in the art of steam railroading from the country’s last holdover of the craft.

Scott’s low position on the totem pole had him working as a general laborer, but his curious mind helped him gain a keen understanding of the shop and the operation. He worked as a machinist’s helper, and saw how bits of metal could be crafted into a crucial part for the analog locomotives. He cleaned the engines and studied the machinery up close. He talked with men and women that were his coworkers, and listened as they told stories from lifetimes ago. His coworkers – mostly Hispanic folks with railroad careers longer than Scott had been alive – loved to pick on “the classic college kid”, as Scott identified himself. He remembers that they would all bring in elaborate lunches and eat family style, and that he one day was fed a radish that – unknown to Scott – was hot enough to melt steel (to him at least). Red-in-the-face and eyes watering, Scott ran around the roundhouse in a desperate search for water as his coworkers all cracked up together, saying something along the lines of “College boy can’t eat a radish!” Scott laughed as he recounted this memory, and was just glad to be at the same lunch table as these accomplished people that spent their lives railroading. Their reality was intoxicating to Scott: The locomotives, the storytelling, and especially the culture.

Summer of 1980 brought Scott back home to Durango after his sophomore year of his journalism degree, and he once again donned the overalls and hardhat. Making somewhere around $9.00 an hour, Scott was doing well for himself, but always opted to pick up extra hours with the hope that the railroad job would help settle his student loans shortly after graduation (a goal he was able to accomplish). His hunt for extra hours landed him the role of nightwatchman a handful of times where he would work overnight in the roundhouse and tend the fire in locomotives before their next day of operating. With only three locomotives and two trains leaving Durango daily, the locomotives stayed under steam for almost the entire Summer season. Working this shift taught Scott that firing a locomotive is much more than blindly throwing coal into the firebox, and to move a steam locomotive takes a lot more finesse than just stepping on a gas pedal. Scott described working these nights as “magical”, where he was surrounded by the silence of the locomotives simmering under the abundant stars that peered down on the little mountain town. He also recalled one night where that aforementioned silence was turbulently interrupted by the shriek of the whistle from one of the engines. Running to investigate, he discovered that someone had climbed into the cab of the locomotive and tied the rope for the whistle down, sending 190 pounds of steam through the brass chambers of the noise-making device. The longest 30 seconds of Scott’s life were spent untying this simple – yet effective – prank; To this day he still has no idea who pulled off such a devious scheme!

Some of the D&RGW employees that bid to come to Durango were enginemen from around the railroad’s system that came to briefly experience the operation. Many of them – upon realizing that fireman would need to shovel about five tons of coal every day – would pack their bags after a week and return to the mainlines where diesel locomotives were the status quo. One of these situations created a vacancy later in the Summer of 1980, and Scott was elected as the best available candidate to man the scoop. He reported to work the next day, and ascended to the cab of a 1923-built locomotive that suddenly felt like a spaceship to him. His coworkers had given him a crash course on how to fire the road, but Scott had never taken a locomotive outside of yard limits before this day. Alone in the cab with a stoic engineer, his train left Durango and Scott shoveled for his life, remembering the patterns he had been taught and reading the fire for holes where the fire would draft better and eat through the coal faster. Arriving at the first hill on the railroad, Scott’s pressure gauge began to read lower and lower, prompting a glance from his engineer that he knew meant “Fix it”. Using the thin coal dust from the bottom of the tender, Scott threw in scoop after scoop and ignited the fire enough to recover his steam and get the train over the hill. He didn’t get any more glances for the rest of the day, indicating he must have done an alright job. Scott took an engine over the road a handful of times later that summer and the next, which to this day are the highlights of his railroad career, and some of his most fond memories of his life.

The good union wages, home-cooked meals, and storied line of work kept Scott coming home to Durango for three summers. His time working in the roundhouse opened his eyes to a world of machinery, ingenuity, and grit that he previously had no thought of. Past his graduation though, the Silverton Branch was sold from the D&GRW and a new era of the railroad was coming in. Scott was offered a shop job in Denver on the D&RGW, and opted to try it for a few weeks before he decided he’d rather pursue an opportunity using his degree. He elected to end his railroad career and began to work as a corporate communication writer for Xcel Energy – ironically, writing about the utility company’s large boilers and generators, something he had gotten to be quite familiar with! Past his railroad career though, Scott felt tied to this industry, and the romance of railroading and trains is yet to be lost on him. He and his wife spent lots of time traveling internationally aboard trains, seeing the appeal of taking in the scenery and meeting others on a shared journey. Now retired back to his hometown, Scott still smiles whenever he hears the train go by, and makes a point to ride along with his former employer once a year. The railroad and the fraternity of railroaders that took him in will always be a cherished part of his life, and knowing that little pockets of community exist within trade keeps Scott curious about the journeys that we are all on.

Thank you to all our readers, and thank you to Scott Graham for joining us on Behind the Throttle. Next Monday another story will publish, further discussing the intoxication of railroading through a personal story – though from the other side of the world. Until then, I am Max Harris, and I’ll see you all down the line.

A rather common misconception in the world of railroading and historic trains is that the industry is dominated by older folks, and that there is no room for someone under 40 in the cab of a steam locomotive. Frankly, this just is not true — trust me. There is a strong foundation of knowledge on old trains, once held by the men and women who worked on them in service, that in my opinion has all but been passed down to the next generation, and said knowledge continues to get passed down to younger and younger people with each new-hire in a shop. Our final spotlight for Edition 2 got his start with steam power and trains well before high school, and now works to keep up with passing knowledge around. Today, we meet Diego Morales, On the Mound.

Diego’s introduction to the world of trains came in the form of grand-scale ride-along trains. His childhood home was just a stone’s throw from the Hillcrest and Wahtoke Railroad, a miniature railway that hosted train rides on live-steam locomotives around different seasons and holidays. Diego and his older brother would make trips to the Hillcrest and Wahtoke with their parents once every operating period just because it was a fun way for the family to get out, but a blooming spark got fanned just a little further with each visit. Not too long after several visits, his parents began to notice that Diego, even in his early toddler years, was quite taken with the railroad and his passion became evident. At just 11 years old Diego walked into the shop at the Hillcrest and Wahtoke — not as a visitor anymore, but as a volunteer. His youth was no hindrance as the team of employees and volunteers were excited to have a young and enthusiastic member join their ranks. Diego recalls that Wednesday nights saw the weekly work sessions where he would begin to learn the art of railroading, or rather, “the basics that an 11-year-old could do and not get into too much trouble”. Diego was treated to hands-on learning on how to fire up a live steam locomotive, where all the moving parts and lubrication points were, how to switch railcars around, and much more. Even on the small scale, these experiences all translated well to Diego’s eventual career working with steam, and served to fuel his interest as he found more and more reasons to be interested in trains. Though he was too young to operate the trains during the excursions, those Wednesday night work sessions became Diego’s foundation for knowledge on railroading, and at only 10 minutes from home, he had no reason not to show out.

As Diego began high school, he visited his little slice of railroad less frequently as he grew into his new school. He found his way back as he approached his senior year, still finding enjoyment in the little trains and the steam that powered them. No longer too young to operate, Diego was running the locomotives and hosting passengers now, and even teaching some of the new volunteers the things he had begun learning well before he could drive a car. After graduating from high school, Diego found himself enrolling in junior college where he played baseball alongside his classes. Developing a strong arm, Diego continued with the sport for his two years of studies, taking accomplishments and lessons with him after each practice and game. After two years at junior college, Diego looked into a bigger school that would better equip him in the realm of academia. Transferring to Fresno State University, Diego began pursuing a degree in focusing on mechanical design and management, but felt a familiar itch returning. Still interested in steam trains, Diego looked into some railroading opportunities near his new university and found that the Yosemite Mountain Sugar Pine Railroad — a small logging railroad that now operates scenic rides behind geared steam locomotives — was just an hour north of his university. He made quick work of getting involved, and soon was spending his weekends in the Sierra Nevada National Forest working as a conductor and fireman on the 4-mile railroad through old logging territory. Making the jump from the small-scale trains that he grew up with to full-sized locomotives was an exciting change that broadened Diego’s views on railroading and steam locomotives. The geared Shay locomotives at the Sugar Pine also posed a whole new realm of machinery to explore, and Diego was excited to soak it all in. Diego’s time in college, especially in his last two years, was much busier than he had expected. He recalled staying in the bunkhouse at the Sugar Pine overnight on weekends, running trains during the day and then working on classwork and studying overnight before rushing back to campus on Sunday afternoons, where he would then hit the books and take the baseball field after class. He thinks back to this chapter of his life as enjoyable yet stressful, “more stressful than being the roundhouse foreman now”, he added with a smirk. In 2022, Diego walked the commencement stage with a bachelors degree in industrial design and technology, but also with loads of life lessons from the baseball field, and even more railroad experience from the little logging operation he came into.

After college, Diego returned to his childhood home and was reached out to by his old friends and coworkers at the Hillcrest and Wahtoke. The little operation had grown substantially since he left for school and the shops at the railroad were now hosting contract work for various organizations, rebuilding and maintaining steam locomotives for operators all around the west coast. Needing skilled people they trusted, the Hillcrest and Wahtoke offered Diego a job helping manager the several contract jobs the little railroad began picking up, helping small-scale steam engines around the region steam once more. He excitedly accepted the job and began his role overseeing many of these rebuilds, some for major clientele like Disney! Diego’s time at university helped prepare him for some of the business and administrative objectives, but his education continued into this job as he was given the freedom to learn how to do many of the essential tasks in a shop on his own. One of his greatest takeaways was learning how to weld on stainless steel — an invaluable skill in any machine shop, but especially in the fabrication of new components on locomotives (tender tanks, cabs, etc). Diego spent two years working in the contract role at Hillcrest before moving to his now-home, a place he’d spent almost a decade dreaming of.

The Durango and Silverton in southwestern Colorado is a world-renowned railroad, gaining fame from its 150-year-plus lifespan as a steam-powered time capsule in the Rocky Mountains. Hauling several hundred thousand passengers every year, mostly all behind steam locomotives that have been running the same track their whole careers, it’s obvious why so many railroad and steam enthusiasts become infatuated with the railroad and make it their goal to work there someday. Diego is no such exception, and after his first trip to Durango while in high school he was sold on the idea of making a future in the small mountain town. He would go on to visit several times during his college career and developed a relationship with his now-boss, Matt Cunningham. Each visit, Cunningham would further encourage Diego to make the move, but Diego wanted to be sure it was the right path and took his time on the decision. During college, he also met the woman that would become his wife, and they welcomed their two daughters into the world. In 2023, after continuing to dream about Durango, Diego made one more visit with his wife and kids to see how they liked the town. With the approval from his family and an open invitation to start, Diego was finally able to make Durango his new home.

In 2024, Diego accepted the role as Contract Manager and Machinist in the roundhouse of the mighty Durango and Silverton. Finally ready to move his life down to the high desert, Diego was beyond thrilled for this new opportunity that he had dreamt of for almost a decade now. Now having held the job for a year, Diego has seen countless contract jobs come and go and worked his way into the bigger picture of the steam powerhouse that keeps America’s tourist railroad running, and helps other places do the same. Seeing the wealth of knowledge in his shop, Diego has realized that operations are important, but having skills to maintain the engines is crucial: “There’s only a few people that can run these things, but there’s even fewer than can fix them.” The contract jobs in the D&S shops are proof that the D&S is a special place with a large skillset for working on steam, and Diego is glad to be a part of the greater force that helps places without their own shop or knowledge keep their locomotives operational. The young shop force at the D&S has similarly inspired Diego, seeing how many young people are attracted to the narrow gauge railroad for a place to learn. He compared it to a steam locomotive university, where people come and spend a few years learning to machine and work on steam engines, before moving on and taking their new knowledge with them. Diego is far from the youngest person employed in the roundhouse, and his now-role of the foreman of the roundhouse has given him a platform to teach. He thinks back to his extensive time on the pitcher’s mound while playing baseball in school, where he really learned how to work as a team. His coaches were tough on him and his teammates, and he sees why now; all working towards a common objective, he divides his shop forces to individual tasks and expects his crews to complete their side of the project and ask questions as they arise, and coach those who need to learn a new skill to complete said task. He feels that people really want to learn in the roundhouse, and being in charge of the team that keeps water boiling for so many places is a great mission to be a part of.

As Diego continues to see locomotives return to service and continue their lives in steam, he is hopeful for the future of historic railroading. His main ambition with his career is to ensure that small operations have the tools they need to keep their locomotives running, or are able to enlist help from a place that does. Diego has a soft spot for the smaller tourist railroads that gave him an introduction to steam at such a young age, and hopes that more enthusiastic young people have the same opportunity to be inspired and immersed in a world of running gear, cylinders, oil, and smoke: “Me coming from a small tourist railroad, I want those places to stick around even when heavy maintenance comes around”. Steam gave Diego a purpose when he was young, and something to be excited about and work towards. As he grew up and found new passions and hobbies, Diego always found a way to keep steam in his life and relate his new undertakings back to the passion that helped him find himself at a young age. Helping others find that same drive by means of steel and steam is Diego’s hope for his future, and he works on the mound as his team welds, fabricates, fires, and learns - bringing fire to engines and life to the communities they serve.

Thank you for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle, and thank you for joining us throughout this wonderful reintroduction of the blog. When I started writing Behind the Throttle at just 19 years old, I had lots of hopes to keep this project alive as long as I could. With every story, I hope I make the railroad world just a bit more in touch, and hope more people will bring themselves into this community that teaches, drives, and helps others enjoy something bigger than themselves. Tune in here shortly for a brief recap on Edition 2 before we break until October! Until then, I’m Max Harris, and I’ll see you folks down the line.

I recall a particular conversation with one of my personal mentors in the historic railroad industry that inspired me to showcase the principle of operating machinery as a means of interpretation: “We don’t go to zoos to see taxidermied animals…” While a cosmetic restoration of an artifact is surely better than no restoration, his analogy made total sense to me: The best way to show the power and impact of a steam locomotive is run the damn thing, and keep it running. Our spotlight today, having been involved with several mainline steam pursuits and events showcasing hot locomotives ready for their next call to service, shares this sentiment and has worked hard to show the potential and power of steam. Today, we meet Jason Johnson, Take the Main.

Jason’s first memory with trains takes him back to the Strasburg Rail Road of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Having family living near the railroad made it an easy destination for gatherings, and Jason can distinctly remember watching Strasburg’s 2-10-0 locomotive No. 90 during the run-around moves at the end of their excursion line. “Every kid likes trains”, he recounted, but the likeness that Jason took would soon prove to stand the test of growing up. His frequent trips to Strasburg and the neighboring Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania would cement his interest, and he began looking for a way to dive further. In his hometown in eastern Ohio, excursion trains were running out of the Dennison Railroad Museum on tracks owned by the Ohio Central Railroad. Jason got involved at just 12 years old, car-hosting and taking in the experiences, and further falling in love with the romance of the railroad industry. He kept up with volunteering all through his primary education, and started working full-time with the Ohio Central on his 18th birthday. His first role at the railroad was in the track department, helping maintain the right-of-way, and he could usually be found working on the weekends during the railroad’s famed excursions, often in the cab of a steam locomotive keeping the engine hot. Alongside his job, Jason began studying at Kent State University, where he would earn degrees in both computer and mechanical engineering. This was accomplished alongside his full-time work on the railroad, a feat he pulled off by means of a lot of sleepless nights and a drive to learn as much as possible.

Jason graduated from Kent State, now armed with two degrees and just as much ambition (if not- more) than when his studies began. Hoping to take his degrees with him in his career, he began further immersing himself in the railroad. His drive had always been noticed by the folks in charge, and his dedication and skill landed him in the role of Chief Mechanical Officer, in charge of both marketing and rail operations for the passenger excursions that would bring a few hundred thousand people onboard historic trains and surely help kick off passions for railroads in a younger generation. Jason also worked to find more dedicated young blood- and employ them whenever possible (past Behind the Throttle spotlights Zach Hall and Kelly Lynch are two such examples). The surplus of steam locomotives and excursions that his railroad ran provided a great teaching tool for those looking to learn the art of railroading, and Jason wanted his workshop to be a classroom for those people who were willing to pick up the trade. Though he was only in his late 20’s and early 30’s at this time, Jason felt that passing the torch preemptively would secure the knowledge needed to keep steam running well beyond his own time. Lots of the people that Jason volunteered and worked with in his introduction to the industry were railroaders who saw the hind-end of the steam era, and he was quick to notice a trend that the men and women of the time were eager to share what they knew: “There was this mission of passing the knowledge on”. Jason held their mission as his own after arriving at the CMO position, and continues to maintain the mindset in his current endeavors.

2004 saw Jason’s last hurrah at the Ohio Central, having accomplished lots of locomotive restorations and personal milestones, and training several people fit to take on his roles. The event “Trainfest” is a noteworthy title in the railroad world, and often is associated with events that bring heritage organizations, communities, and railfans alike in a spectacular fashion. Jason organized the 2004 Trainfest to the Ohio Central, using several of the locomotives from the site to pull excursions across the railroad’s network. Over 27,000 people attended the weekend of trains, and Jason was proud of the event, but also walked away with lots of lessons for planning the next one. In 2005, Jason stepped away from the Ohio Central, concluding a career of almost 11 years and knowledge to last a lifetime. His next move would take him outside of the railroad space as he used his degrees to start his own company, which he would sell a few years later. During this time Jason kept up with volunteer involvement in several railroad organizations, and maintained the connections and friendships he made through the world of steam. In 2009, Jason was called upon by the Steam Railroading Institute of Owosso, Michigan, to help plan the annual Trainfest celebration that they intended on hosting. Hoping to raise enough money to cover the 15-year overhaul of the SRI’s famed Berkshire steam locomotive, the Pere Marquette 1225, the hope was to compile as many steam locomotives into one location as possible. Many easy candidates from the surrounding midwest were brought out, including the Nickel Plate Road 765 from the Fort Wayne Railroad Historical Society, two locomotives from the Little River Railroad of Coldwater, Michigan, and a handful of little engines from owners and operators, but the biggest ticket item came from across the country. While at a conference for heritage railroads the year before the festival, Jason was bet that he couldn’t bring an icon of American steam to the 2009 festival. The Southern Pacific Daylight, a massive 4-8-4 type locomotive based in Oregon, would need to make a several thousand mile deadhead move, but Jason was determined and knew the event would do miles for the industry if he could achieve the feat. Plus, someone bet against him, and he felt determined to flip the odds around. After mapping out the deadhead move with a friend and then pitching the idea to Doyle McCormack, the locomotive’s manager, a plan was set in motion to bring nine steam locomotives to rural Michigan. The event brought over 30,000 attendees over a four-day span, and helped create a positive image of railroading in about every attendee and volunteer. Jason is quite proud to have organized such an event, knowing the impact that the funds raised have had on the groups that contributed their locomotives and their time. Jason went on to help coordinate a Trainfest in 2010 in West Virginia, and in 2011 in Rock Island, Illinois. Past 2011, the tides in mainline railroading shifted away from excursion events like Trainfest, but Jason hopes to see them return one day.

Now working for another project of his that specialized in building off-road emergency reposes vehicles, Jason found himself interested in getting involved with another preservation group that was doing something not yet done in the United States: Build a steam locomotive from scratch in the 21st Century. One of Jason’s mentors from his first days around the railroad was an engineer for the Pennsylvania Railroad and often talked fondly of the T1 locomotive, a unique 4-4-4-4 streamlined steam engine that was said to be the fastest steam locomotive ever built. Jason had joked for years that he wanted to build one of these rare birds from scratch, seeing that all of the historical examples had met the scrapper’s torch at the end of the steam era. Little did he know, a group of dedicated Pennsylvania Railroad enthusiasts was planning to do exactly that, and he was compelled to get involved as soon as he heard about their organization. He recalled that he was quite persistent on becoming a part of the organization, but the group was reluctant to bring him on at first. Though, after he secured a donation of the only surviving large Pennsylvania Railroad tender (a great stand-in for the newly-built T1 and saving the organization a few hundred-thousand dollars), he was brought on as the General Manager of the project. Over the last 10 years, Jason and the organization have completed several major milestones in railroad preservation, including fabricating a brand new boiler and frame larger than a fully-grown whale. Jason also assisted in creating a partnership between the T1 Trust and the Dennison Railroad Museum to obtain a grant for a new locomotive shop to be built in Dennison, where the T1 will be assembled. This achievement is a nod to the meager yet capable shop that once stood in Dennison during the reign of the Pennsylvania Railroad, but also serves as a full circle moment for Jason as he brings the town that began his railroad career into a new chapter of preservation history.

Nowadays, Jason works full time managing several large enterprise companies that all deal with complicated technology in high-stress fields: medical, engineering, etc. Jason’s day job is often times more challenging than some of the work he does in the historic railroad field, which helps make some of the seemingly huge undertakings he invests in not so monstrous. He, on the contrary, enjoys the puzzle of finding a way to make the logistics around restorations work, and stresses the idea of looking at the “long game” for those involved. This stuff doesn’t surely happen overnight! Jason works and communicates closely with his restoration teams, reminding everyone that the work they’re all doing is part of history and will go on to create stories and memories for lifetimes: “We are giving people something to talk about”. In many of Jason’s circles, he sees lots of younger folks and tries hard to foster a committed passion for the work with them. He identified what he looks for in someone to deem them a candidate for greatness within the industry, saying they must be “humble, hungry, and smart”. He went on to say “Everybody shares the dream of running, not everyone will put the long hours when nobody is looking”, noting that the goal of being a steam engineer in today’s time is often a mountain to climb behind the scenes. Dipping into several other large volunteer restoration efforts, like the Reading 2100 with the American Steam Railroad Preservation Association, Jason has had lots of chances to work with young folks who want to contribute to the greater preservation industry, something he feels is a privilege. Jason also has found himself working with the group that aims to bring another massive locomotive — the Chesapeake and Ohio No. 614 — back into steam. Jason worked with the locomotive once in 1998, pushing coal from the tender into the auger while doing track speeds of 80 miles per hour. Being involved in mainline steam in major cities was one of the main hooks for railroading back in Jason’s youth, and he hopes that his work with this group, along with many of his other preservation pursuits, will achieve the same for a new generation.

Thinking to the future of historic railroading — namely mainline steam, his chosen niche — Jason hopes to see a reassurance in the large-scale excursions and events that he grew up attending and working. He remains carefully optimistic that the current lull in such events will fade into a new age for steam to take the main, and foster an appreciation for the superpower that comes from compressed boiled water. With these excursions, Jason sees significance for three publics: the railroads that host them, the spectators and passengers, and the volunteers of the organizations that supply the locomotive. Thousands of memories and communities will be formed from coming out to see and ride these excursions, the positive publicity generated will give the major railroads a break from the news cycles that only pay mind to them when their trains go off the rails, but perhaps most importantly those people who sink long drives and countless hours on a shop floor - without pay - will see the fruits of their hardships and get to celebrate the machines they bleed and sweat to keep running. Jason sees this drive in many of the groups he works with, and is grateful for all the excitement and determination that seemingly transcends age, and is especially grateful that his son has taken up the same industry that has captivated him for so long. Michell Johnson has even fired for his dad on two locomotives and gotten involved with his own restoration efforts, something that bring great pride to Jason, and also reassurance that the historic railroad industry will outlive him. With several large locomotive projects happening across the country, Jason hopes that they all get a chance on the high iron, and hopes that their volunteers — young and old — remain inspired to learn and share the lore of this fascinating industry

Thank you for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle, and thank you to Jason for sharing his story with us. Tune in next time on August 4th as we spotlight one a young gun in charge of a major steam operation. Until then, I’m Max Harris and I’ll see you down the line.

Today I’m excited to spotlight another person that I feel lucky to call a coworker and a friend. Railroaders with enough miles under their belt to circle our planet a few times often have encountered issues en route that have caused them to think both critically and quickly. The idea of not only knowing how to move a train, but also how to adapt and overcome to difficult circumstances, is what defines the job of a railroader to this spotlight. Today, we meet Mike May: Over The Road.

Interviews here at Behind the Throttle typically take place through phone and computer screens, but given that we’re practically neighbors, Mike May and I met in person at a mutual favorite spot for beer. Animas Brewing Company is ironically located in the former Maintenance of Way building for the Durango and Silverton, alongside the right-of-way that would build Mike’s foundation of knowledge and passion of railroad operations. But, more about that later.

As a child, Mike’s fascination with trains was quick to develop. The mainline of the Burlington Northern was right down the street from his childhood home near Chicago, Illinois, and the literal onslaught of trains that would race by always had Mike running trackside to watch and wave. Mike’s parents did not share in his blooming fascination, but his dad was keen on museums, which brought the May family to the Hesston Steam Museum in Hesston, Indiana. Here, Mike first saw steam power - both in a railroad sense and in industrial applications - and felt his interest grow in the direction of old things. He also remembers the eventual family trip to the Illinois Railway Museum in Union, Illinois, and was immediately drawn to the shop where the steam engines were stabled and maintained. The artful nature of the old machinery, with all of the moving parts that were openly displayed as they transformed steam into movement, captivated him and invited him to learn more from a young age. As Mike grew up, he continued to find new hobbies - mainly a passion for theatre that would guide his future studies - but his interest in trains kept growing on the side. Trains took a side-step for Mike throughout high school and his first few years of college, but as he felt more and more smothered by his schoolwork he rediscovered his passion for railroads as a means to diversify his time and escape from the ordinary.

Mike would soon drift back to the Illinois Railway Museum, now as a volunteer, and found himself soaking up information and learning whenever he could. Coming back to the IRM, Mike knew exactly where he wanted to dedicate his volunteer hours. He recounted his train of thought: “If I’m gonna do this, I have to be around steam”. His enthusiasm was greeted with opportunity, and the overwhelming amount of knowledge in front of him was “shocking”, as he said. After lending a capable hand where he could in maintaining the IRM’s 2-10-0 No. 1630, Mike found himself riding along on the engine’s excursions on the IRM track before long. Mike had been in the cab of a locomotive before, but never out on a railroad where got to see the art of operating steam close-up. He remembers watching the fireman dance around the cab, masterfully placing each scoop of coal with precision, and watching the locomotive’s pressure gauge react. He similarly watched the engineer dance between controls, using throttle and air simultaneously to give the passengers a smooth ride and keep the train on it’s schedule. Mike had found the spot where he wanted to learn, and was naturally offered the opportunity. From there, Mike began to learn the art of firing, and this introduction to railroad operations were scratching an itch that Mike never new existed. As he saw more and more systems of a railroad come together from his time volunteering, he felt strongly that it was worth immersing in. Beyond his college graduation, Mike worked briefly in the theatre world but hoped to dive more into trains; He therefore sent his resume around to several of the railroads that at the time ran steam on a near-daily basis. The Durango and Silverton was the first to respond, and invited him to a job fair to learn more about the company and talk with supervisors. He would leave Durango from his first visit with a start date on the railroad, and returned to the small mountain town to begin this new chapter.

In 2005, with his graduation from university not far in the past, Mike packed up his car and headed southwest from the Windy City. Anticipating on spending just one summer out in Durango, Mike did not have much expectation for what his job would look like, but was excited nonetheless. The premise of seeing a large-scale tourist railroad, still abiding by the railroad practices and motive power of a time a few generations before his, was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up, and being involved in any way felt like a victory. His first summer was spent mostly working as a brakeman, onboard the daily trains to Silverton and making sure the few hundred passengers transported each day had a memorable and safe trip. Within this role, Mike got familiar with a lot of old school railroad practices - hand signals, flag protection, retainer valves and more are all status quo at the D&S, and their rulebook and operation infatuated Mike. Before his first season was over, Mike was offered a chance to fire, an opportunity he jumped on quickly. His previous experience firing at the IRM provided a good foundation of knowledge as he re-entered the craft, but nothing really could have prepared him for shoveling several tons of coal up a 45-mile railroad that was practically all sitting on a 2.5% grade. After a handful of student trips, Mike was given the scoop on his own and began the time-honored tradition of carrying trains on his back from Durango to Silverton, a job he was proud to have.

Mike returned to Illinois for the winter of 2005-2006, but found his way back to Durango the next summer. This time, however, he would be staying. Having fallen in love with the romance of rocky mountain railroading, Mike decided to commit a few years to the D&S and continued to fire and work with passengers. In 2008 he began as a student engineer, and was promoted to engineer that next year. His first few experiences running were “terrifying”, as he described it, but a welcome challenge. He made his intentions of becoming an engineer aware from his first day in Durango, and the railroad was quick to help him achieve this goal. Throughout his time marking up, Mike encountered several mechanical issues that are frequent with old trains and equipment (ironically, the diesels owned by the D&S at the time were more troublesome than the steam engines). This proved as a learning opportunity though, and Mike soon found out that being an engineer means much more than just driving the train: “Actually running is 10% of the job, knowing how to get over the road is the other 90%.” Having an understanding of the machines he operated, and knowing how to troubleshoot to make sure he didn’t maroon 300 people in the Animas Canyon quickly set in as the primary responsibility of being an engineer, and he took the role seriously in that he wanted to make sure he could always deliver his passengers to where they were going, ideally with a smooth ride. In his time as an engineer on the D&S, Mike had everything but the dining car sink thrown at him as he railroaded through the Rocky Mountains. Every challenge and every breakdown was a chance to learn and experiment, and his ability to bring his trains home regardless of what happened on the road was a point of pride in his career.

Around 2010, after six summer seasons on the Silverton, Mike began to look outward for a new opportunity. Though grateful for his time in Durango, Mike was curious to find a new operating challenge and began talking with some of his railroad friends who then worked for Amtrak. They encouraged him to put his name out there, and Mike obliged after a short while. He applied to crew bases around the country, but his hometown of Chicago was the one that gave him an offer. He gave his notice in January of 2011 in Durango, and made his way east to Wilmington, Delaware, for Amtrak Engine School. His time in Amtrak’s training program was vigorous, but enjoyable. Mike grew to be quite fond of learning new rulebooks and operating guides, and learning Amtrak’s rules of the road was quite interesting to him. Mike also grew to be friends with most of his classmates, and they would often take the train to New York on their weekends and explore the city. After passing the class with flying colors, Mike went home to Chicago and began to run for America’s railroad. His time as a student was spent on the various routes that Chicago-based engineers need to run, traveling some of the busiest rail corridors in the country. After a few months, Mike marked up and had his first job running the California Zephyr on the Ottumwa Subdivision, west from Chicago. Mike remembers this job being especially unpredictable because of the railroad’s physical characteristics, but also with the frequently late Zephyr coming back east that he would take home. Regardless, Mike grew to love the route and still thinks of it as one his favorite stretches of railroad he has operated on.

As Mike gained some seniority from his position with Amtrak, he was given the option to bid for a job that would give him some consistency in his schedule. However, he opted to stay working on the extra board, where he worked on-call. This spot gave Mike the ability to run a different train every day and learn how to run more than just a single assignment. Being on the extra board also allowed Mike to work some of the random and unique trains that would come through his territory, including Amtrak’s Exhibit Train, a traveling museum that went around the Amtrak system for a handful of years. The extra board had Mike also qualify on some stretches of railroad that other Amtrak engineers couldn’t run on, and gave him a chance to work odd trains from other railroads and operators. Mike was especially grateful to be on the extra board when the Nebraska Zephyr, a vintage trainset restored by the IRM led by a vintage E5 streamlined diesel, made excursion runs from Chicago to Qunicy, Illinois, in September of 2012. Working with one of the engineers that trained him, Mike and this senior hoghead worked for a long weekend aboard the sleek trainset as it moved at the same speeds it would have back in the day, on the tracks it was built to operate on. Mike recalls some trouble with the folks in charge at Amtrak about running the trainset, given it has a unique airbrake system that was unlike what could be found on a modern locomotive. His mentor and now colleague dismissed the concerns, saying something along the lines of “It’s an airbrake!”, to which Mike added: “If I can figure out the brakes on a steam engine I’m sure I can do this”. The idea of getting trains over the road remained especially poignant with his extra board role, and Mike figured out lots of little troubleshooting tricks for locomotives and learned how to run some equipment on the fly as result. He remembers one day where he as running in a snowstorm, and his unit’s horn became inoperative as snow plugged the bells. After requesting a ladder from the dispatcher so he could thaw the horn with a fusee, he learned that a replacement locomotive would be waiting for him at the next station instead. The BNSF unit was a “SD-whatever-the-heck” with fresh paint that could still be smelled from inside the cab. After the BNSF crew handed him the locomotive that was completely alien to him, he got the signal from his conductor to depart. Mike had to take a second, saying to his conductor “Hang on, I have to figure out where the horn lever is on this thing!” He eventually figured it out, and got the train to it’s destination with minimal delays and a new locomotive in his arsenal of engines he’s operated.

After four years of running for America’s Railroad, Mike was satisfied with what he had experienced and felt ready to make a change once again. He began developing a sort of “reverse homesickness”, where he missed the Colorado lifestyle that became a haven for him. Around that time, a job had opened up at one of the sister companies to the Durango and Silverton, Rail Events Incorporated. REI is the company responsible for licensing popular themed train rides around the world, including The Polar Express. The company puts out the licenses, and then helps execute the event across the system during show season. Mike’s background in both railroading and theatre made him an obvious candidate for the job, and he remembers being courted by some of his friends and former coworkers out in Durango to take the opportunity. He gave in to their persuasions after a visit back to Durango, and put in a notice at Amtrak in Autumn of 2014. During an exit-interview with his soon-to-be former supervisor, Mike mentioned what new opportunity was taking him from a job that most people retire from. After explaining Rail Events Inc to the supervisor, the supervisor asked “How can we do something like that at Amtrak?” Before his start date, Mike had already began a new chapter for REI, but more on that later. Mike returned to Durango in November of that year, and his homecoming to his home-away-from-home was a welcome occasion. Before long, he was given the ability to mark up once again as an engineer on the Durango and Silverton, and maintains the skill of running trains at the railroad he first few in love with.

I’d be remiss to not mention the unbelievable model railway Mike constructed in his free time (when?). After learning about the infamous White Pass and Yukon Route from coworkers at the D&S, Mike made a trip out to Alaska to see what the railroad was all about. It took about 20 minutes for Mike to totally fall in love with the operation and he quickly decided that the railroad was worth fixating on. After researching the history of the line some, Mike stuck with this fascination and made the White Pass his “hobby” railroad, while other rail lines would be his offices. Always a fan of the artistic side of life, Mike had wanted to build a model railroad that was truly an homage to a certain stretch of railroad, with scenes that could be mistaken for the prototype when photographed from the right angle. Landing on a stretch of White Pass as his inspiration, Mike began building his layout in 2011 in sections and continued it’s construction all throughout his time working for Amtrak. The layout survived his move out to Durango and now resides in the main living space of his townhome. Complete with theatre-lighting to illustrate time changes and weather, circuitry from real railroad equipment, a full dispatching system with wires suspended by codeline insulators, and more gimicks that make you question if Mike is actually the railroad incarnation of Willy Wonka, the efficiently-built layout is a playground for everything Mike loves about rail operations. He even has a timetable for the layout! The layout has gone on to win several awards from model railroad organizations worldwide, and has been featured numerous times in craft magazines and journals.

Mike’s position now with Rail Events Incorporated has him travel the world to every Polar site throughout the Christmas months. He is grateful to work in his role as he feels that tons of people gain their first exposure to trains or their local railroad museum through the events, but also is grateful that Polar often times helps smaller museums and organizations fund their restorations and projects that otherwise might not be financially possible. As mentioned earlier, Mike’s Amtrak connections helped establish Rail Events Productions, a secondary company from REI that actually puts on the Polar Express event at a host site, namely within Amtrak terminals in major cities. These events draw tons of traction and similarly introduce many faces to the magic of railroads and theatre, and hopefully help develop happy memories (and maybe even lifelong passions). Mike still runs on the Durango and Silverton often, and also makes trips out to the Steam Railroading Institute to operate the 1225 (ironically, the engine that inspired the original novel “The Polar Express”) to maintain his mainline engineer card. Even further from home, Mike travels down to Australia often to operate trains on the Puffing Billy tourist railroad as a part of their international volunteer program. Every busy, but every grateful, Mike is glad to have made the railroad lifestyle his own.

As the world of trains continues to evolve and change, Mike sincerely hopes that the art of railroading is never lost. The articulate and artful nature of locomotives is what got him involved in the first place; Seeing the craft in all of its glory as engineers, firemen, conductors, brakemen, welders, machinists, roadway workers, and more find unique ways to manipulate steel, steam, and the natural forces of our universe is an idea worth protecting. Computers and technology do have a rightful place in our modern world, Mike feels, but he also believes that engineers should know how to run their trains with throttle and air alone. Mike also remarked on his hopes for preservation to keep preserving, noting that he hopes “the engines that are 100 years old now will be 200 years old and still running”. Overall, it’s the beauty, the storytelling, and the passion that inspires Mike to sit behind the throttle, and he hopes that getting trains over the road remains the artful - yet gritty - skill he learned once ago.

Thank you all for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle, and thanks to Mike for coming on with us! Tune in next edition for a look at the life of Jason Johnson, a railroad preservation heavyweight and specialist. Until then, I’m Max Harris, and I’ll see you all down the line.

A first on Behind the Throttle this week as we finally expand our horizons beyond the confines of the United States, something I had hoped to do from the beginning. Railroading is a global industry, and the railroaders across the world all have a great story to share. Today we meet a woman who found her happy place in the cab of a locomotive, and now spends her days work in that same place or helping others get there. Behind the Throttle is proud to spotlight The Picnic Train director, One Rail Australia driver, and mother of a railroad family: Simone De Beuzeville - Behind The Regulator.

Simone’s early years were spent in her family home near Lithgow, New South Wales. Chosen for it’s opportune location in the foothills of Sydney, the home was also nearby a heritage rail outfit - The Zig Zag Railway. Simone has her earliest memories of running to the train tracks every time she heard a whistle, and can distinctly recall the smell of the leather seats within the compartments of the carriages. Her parents, though not railroad enthusiasts, were keen on the heritage railway and her dad often assisted in upkeep with the railway’s infrastructure. Simone’s dad’s visits to the railway helped cement her image around the group, but where she really became a familiar face was asking to ride in the cab of the steam engine for the runaround moves at the end of the line. Her inquisitive attitude and sweet smile landed her in the cab often, and soon her ask shifted from riding along to “can I drive the engine?” - a request that was first fulfilled when she was just 12 years old! At this point, Simone had the train bug for good, and began to volunteer with the group after school. Her early teenage years were spent as a guard onboard the trains (the Australian equivalent of a trainman or brakeman), and at 16 she moved into the cab of the locomotive, eager to work the scoop and continue the tradition of carrying trains up the rigid switchbacks of the Zig Zag Railway on her back. Simone was as driven as could be, and took in as much information as she could as she learned about the wide world of railways and steam engines at a young age. She even had a little notebook full of notes and lessons, that she would fill while following around the experienced volunteers like a baby duckling -and She still has this notebook somewhere!

Simone’s enthusiasm was met with opportunity at every junction. The volunteers were happy to share their knowledge, and Simone was happy to receive it. She recalls being one of the only women around the site, but frankly never even considering her gender as a reason to be treated differently: “No one ever mentioned that I was a a girl”. Embraced by the whole team at the Zig Zag, Simone had the pleasure of learning the ways of steam railroading from the people that worked on these machines in service, as steam locomotives maintained their positions on the high iron in Australia well into the 1970s and 1980s before diesel and electric locomotives took the reigns. Specifically, Simone remembers a gentleman named Alan Gabbatt - a legend of steam down under - for his patience, his kindhearted demeanor, and surplus of knowledge and experience. She and Alan would sit down together weekly and talk about what she had learned her last few shifts, and Alan would explore the ideas more and give her more information to chew on, all while she feverishly penned into her little notebook. No more than a year of being a student, Simone was promoted to a fireman on the Zig Zag and worked with their various locomotives for many years. At 20 years old, Simone was offered a chance to become a driver (for my American audience, “engineer”), and jumped at the opportunity. She was promoted by 21, with many thanks to Alan and the rest of her mentors, and sat behind the regulator (again, for my American audience, “throttle”), at the Zig Zag for years to come. Simone had climbed the ladder and was proud of herself for achieving the dream that first conspired when she was just a little girl listening for a wayward whistle, and was beyond grateful for a team that made her feel like she belonged.

For the next 15 years, Simone spent her workdays as a primary school teacher and her weekends on the footplate. She had mothered her five kids in the meantime, and had settled into a life of coal cinders and children’s books. Though, a big change was on the horizon when the Zig Zag ceased operations as the railway needed to make critical safety upgrades in 2012. The closure was anticipated to be temporary, though bushfires, floods, and monetary restrictions seemed to indicate that the railway would be silent for some time. Recognizing that she needed a railroad fix in her life past the Zig Zag’s closure, Simone opted to begin looking outward for other opportunities. Her stage of life made it difficult to produce large change, but Simone was determined to find ways for her to work in her industry of passion while supporting her family. She began working with the Powerhouse Museum, an industrial history museum, and began with the Lachlan Valley Railway as a volunteer. The Zig Zag was an isolated operation that did not connect to the mainline network of railways in Australia, but Simone’s new group offered the opportunity to work excursions on mainlines that spanned the whole state of New South Wales. In order to operate trains on the mainlines though, Simone would need a certification from a licensed operator, or an established railway that trains employees to the federal standard to drive on the state-owned mainlines. Simone was determined though, and despite the changes to her life she would have to make, she accepted the challenge and found a freight railway looking for a new class of drivers. Simone hired on with Freightliner, and went from narrow gauge steam locomotives hauling passenger carriages seen on the Zig Zag, to driving several thousand ton freight trains with electronically controlled pneumatic (ECP) brakes and modern diesel locomotives. The change in equipment was an adjustment, but the greatest challenge was having to reestablish herself as a railway worker, and Simone felt she had to earn what she had been doing for several years. Similarly, her new coworkers were not as welcoming to a woman in the cab of a locomotive as the folks from the Zig Zag. However, Simone let her experience and her skills as a driver do the talking and she didn’t need much time to prove herself and earn the mainline certification that brought her back into the cab of steam locomotives, now at much higher speeds.

Volunteering with the Lachlan Valley and working more throughout the railway industry led Simone down a fulfilling and stimulating career path, all while she worked to maintain a healthy balance of work and family life. Through her own experiences of working in the historic railway world, Simone had now established a set of values and principles that she carried with her and brought to every train that she worked. As Simone met more people that shared that same set of values, she began thinking about having her own organization that would foster involvement with communities of all ages, and work specifically to get younger folks involved with steam trains. Her now-husband, Paul Stapleton, was one of those like-minded train enthusiasts she met through work, and in conjunction with Paul’s freight railway - Sydney Rail Services - Simone and a village of volunteers began hosting mainline excursions with a 2-8-2 D59 class locomotive, number 5917. The first few trips were rather well-received, and volunteers began pouring in as some searched for an organization with a community feel and opportunities to grow; Many passengers would also become volunteers in later trips, seeing the joy and family-like atmosphere among the train crew. Through their first few excursions, Simone worked to cultivate a climate of inviting crew that fostered opportunities for everyone to learn, no matter their background.

The first few excursions hosted by Sydney Rail Services followed the eastern coast of Australia, going from the NSW Capital city of Sydney south to the coastal town of Kiama. This excursion run became increasingly popular, and the crew noticed that many passengers would bring a picnic lunch and enjoy it on the train. Hence the name “The Picnic Train” was born, and the not-for-profit organization was founded officially in 2020, with Simone being the executive director. The mission of the Picnic Train is inspired by the idea of catching a new generation, teaching them the ways, and giving them the reins once they feel ready. This translates to maintaining the locomotives, planning the excursions, and actually operating the trains. The average age of a Picnic Train volunteer is well below what you might expect, a figure Simone and her team are quite proud of. Similarly, the Picnic Train has become a family affair, both literally and metaphorically; Simone and Paul married a short while after being introduced and began running excursions together, and Simone’s children have all gotten the train bug. Her daughter, now 21 years young, is even a qualified train driver and can often be seen slinging coal or in the seat for various excursions. She’s even trained a handful of other volunteers, many of whom are women who may have never seem themselves in such a role before: “It’s great to see women training other women”, Simone told me proudly. Many of her old colleagues from the Zig Zag too have drifted down to the Picnic Train and gotten involved with the newfound group, as they’ve taken their trains around Australia. Being able to operate on stretches of the NSW Mainline across the state has allowed the Picnic Train to go beyond their normal reaches and share the joy of steam with a huge population, and overall work to support their mission of providing a space for everyone to appreciate trains.

The Picnic Train was founded with a sort of blind ambition to keep their fleet moving and keep the engines steaming for those next to come. The “can-do” attitude was cemented by Simone’s upbringing at Zig Zag, where the locomotives were constantly being worked to ensure they ran for the next day’s excursions. She remembers that many of the people that taught her the basics of steam all understood the little parts that held the engine together, and could describe what it took to keep them going: “They’re all just made of metal, we can fix them”. Australian locomotives in general are a hodgepodge of various other country's steam technologies, with many locomotives and designs imported from the United States and England. With so many different sets of standards for locomotives, Simone has taken to traveling and learning about how other historic outfits maintain their engines in a form she calls “professional espionage”. She remembers specifically taking a trip to the East Broad Top in Pennsylvania, and seeing the assembly on their locomotives (distant cousins of the Picnic Train 5917) and getting an understanding of how they worked to maintain, fabricate, and replace the parts that would wear over regular operations: “We can take a bit away from every other railway that we visit”. Learning from other organizations and sharing that knowledge whenever possible is a core part of Simone’s mantra of continuing to educate oneself and compare thoughts, all while passing it forward and growing an understanding.

Simone has worked hard to push the idea that this is an industry that everyone can be involved in, and especially spreads the message to the young girls that ride the train: “If you knock out half the population you’ll lose half your workforce”. She is proud to have such a diverse team that is always happy to contribute time to a cause they care about, and hopes that the Picnic Train continues to be a space where people can learn and grow into accomplished railway workers. From her own experiences behind the regulator, to her experiences now overseeing a large heritage operation with a few thousand passengers onboard a train, Simone hopes that the future of historic railroading continues to be a place of positive experiences for passengers and crew alike.

Thank you for reading another edition of Behind the Throttle, and thank you to Simone for coming on! Tune in next time for a look into the life of a theater junkie gone mainline engineer, gone steam engineer, gone Rail Events Incorporated director of productions with Mike May. Until then, I’m Max Harris, and I’ll see you down the line.

The world of railroading is not confined to just what happens above the right-of-way, rather the railroads often influence communities and lifestyles well beyond where the tracks end. Our spotlight today, specially picked to be featured on Memorial Day, shares insights on how one prideful and storied industry interacts with another. Today, we feature Brett Goertemoellor, Pride in Industry.

Brett grew up in the small central town of Oneonta, New York, not far from the mainline of the Delaware and Hudson Railroad. From the porch of his childhood home, he could hear long freight trains with tired first-generation diesels at the helm, and was quickly taken to watch the trains thunder by. He remembers he would flash the light on his porch on and off as a way to say hello to the crews, and also bonding his with his next-door neighbor, a World War II veteran and retired D&H engineer that ran trains on that very line in the steam era. His parents, especially his mother, were not so fond of the fascination as they viewed trains a “dirty and dangerous” way to make a living, but the allure stuck with Brett all through his childhood. His interest continued to grow as he spent many afternoons trackside, trying to make sense of the massive machines and endless strings of freight cars, and the history he began to uncover further brought him into the world of trains. Around the start of high school, Brett began to volunteer with the local chapter of the National Railway Historical Society (NRHS) and found himself curating collections, stories, and history from railroads all around the region he called his home. By this point, he knew trains were going to be around for a long while, and his parents eventually came around.

Beyond high school, Brett began on a streak of traveling far and wide, putting his boots on the ground for various operations. On a rotary exchange program, he spent nine months in Argentina, working with the Ferroclub Argentino (essentially their equal of the NRHS). Here, he, traveled across the country and working with historic trains of all shapes and sizes. Those nine months were Brett’s first instance of being paid to work on trains, and he fell in love with the railroad mentality that sustain him through his travels - after having seen pretty much all of Argentina from the footplate of various locomotives, how could he not? Upon his return to the United States, Brett began to seek out railroad opportunity wherever he’d wind up. He moved up to New Hampshire to began his collegian studies and worked at both the now-defunct Plymouth and Lincoln Railroad and the Cog Railway in Mount Washington - where’d he’d spend most of his summers working in-between terms. After his graduation from university, Brett travelled to the far-opposite side of the United States to attend the Modoc Railroad Academy, an institution that offers comprehensive courses detailing elements of railroad safety, logistics, management, and operation. With a surplus of education and experience, Brett came back to the east coast and was eager now to get started with a railroad career in a common-carrier role. He hired on with the Panam, a shortline freight railroad in the northeast, and worked behind the throttle as an engineer before moving to the New England Coast Railroad in the same role. He spend a few years with these railroads before finding a new opportunity that was more akin to his nomadic lifestyle that he enjoyed.

The Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus is a household name in traveling entertainment and once upon a time based their shows out of a train that would bring the circus to it’s next stop. In 2013, Brett was offered the opportunity to work for the circus as their trainmaster, responsible for coordinating moves of the near mile-long train that would bring all of the pieces of the circus - rigs, performers, vehicles, elephants, and clowns - from town to town. Brett greatly enjoyed the responsibility of this role, and took pride in helping bring entertainment all across the world by means of rail transport. Brett also coordinated the logistics for loading and unloading the train, maintaining the expansive fleet of railcars, and hosting relationships with the railroads that would be moving the train. The coveted job was held by a relatively small group throughout the circus’s multi-century tenure above steel rails, and Brett feels honored to have been one of the last trainmasters before the circus did away with the train in 2017. The community that formed on their trains brought the whole cast of the circus together and collided the unique world of railroading and sideshow.

Past his time in the circus, Brett dipped back into the world of tourist and historic trains, working briefly for the Iowa Pacific Railroad and also doing some independent contract work on small-scale steam engines. Though his next big opportunity would once again put him on the road and in charge of a few dozen railroads (3 to be exact). In 2022, Brett began working as a DOD Civilian with the United States Military as a Designated Supervisor of Locomotives Engineers (DSLE) and Senior Railroad Instructor, overseeing the 36 railroad sites at military bases around the country. Brett trains and performs compliance testing and recertification for all of the operating crews at the various sites, along with building the programs to certify engineers and conductors as per the Federal Railroad Administration standards outlined in the Code of Federal Regulation, parts 240 and 242. Brett feels that it’s rather rewarding to work in the military railroad realm, saying it’s “an honor to have a job like this”, but also recognizes the huge responsibly he has to make sure sensitive shipments are handled safely and professionally. “The things we haul go boom”, he added with a laugh. Brett’s teachings within the railroads of the military dictate that being a soldier and a railroader mean more than just your profession: “Railroading is not a career path, it’s a lifestyle”. The on-call expectation, along with the expectations of quality work that vary day-to-day, are principles that make up the idea of railroader on every level, and he feels that soldiers have a good respect for this mentality. He feels that railroad mentality is similar to military mentality and though his soldiers complain just the same as an old-head railroader might, they always get the job done. Brett works to ensure there is a large degree of consistency across his training programs, such that his crews all run trains the same way and could perform their duties in a similar fashion at any railroad base (or an outside railroad). He enforces idea of common-sense practices, noting that in most cases, railroads have rules for things that just make sense: “the rule book is written in a way where you shouldn’t have to have a rule about it”. The work Brett does takes him all over the country and he enjoyed the travels and flexibility with his job, and also appreciates that he gets to see the moving parts in our defense system on so many levels. Further, he is grateful to interact with the select group of railroad soldiers that ensure a vital piece of transportation that keeps our military in motion.

Fascinated with both military and railroad history, it’s no wonder why Brett’s current job excites him. Going further into this specific realm of railroading, Brett and a handful of other dedicated folks have headed up the Military Railroad Society, and organization that aims to tell the stories of railroads and railroaders in wartime from the Civil War onwards. Through artifacts, stories, exhibits, and events, the Military Railroad Society pursues the idea that railroads are a value tool that serve communities in a variety of times of need. They also prioritize the idea that railroads in the military are a prideful and celebrated craft, just like railroading on a commercial sense. The railroad lifestyle includes lots of camaraderie and attention to the job with a drive to do it well, a trend seen through times of war as railroad soldiers were tasked with building small trench operations and put in charge of shipments on foreign rails. The society helps bridge military railroad connections to the modern day, and works to give back on the same front. Though most railroad soldiers aren’t a typical train buff (something that Brett works to maintain), most all of the soldiers grow to appreciate the machines they operate and work with, and can also appreciate the fun side of trains. Brett thinks back to Operation Sergeant Santa, a holiday train ride operated at the Fort Eustis base that began in 2023. The little train rides gave soldiers and their families a chance to enjoy a train ride and see the lighter side of the industry. Brett is grateful to work with a group that can tell stories of the past in a meaningful way, and further elaborate on the railroad industry in a context not often thought of. Trains are, at the end of the day, involved in most every community setting; They help connect people, move merchandise, see the world, and win battles on every level. Though above all, railroads provide, and Brett feels the work he does helps ensure that railroads provide security, and also informs the world on the storied past of the men and women who railroaded through our world’s toughest battles.

Going into the future, Brett wants to see a continued emphasis on operational excellence in military railroads, and increased recognition of the role trains play in the military, both in the past and in the present. Further, he wants the see the military railroads become a workplace that people desire to be a part of. His hope is that a new generation will see the railroad role within our defense system and aspire to be a railroad soldier - a part of keeping the military moving. Above all though, Brett hopes to see a future where railroads continue to serve the public, and wants to see railroads serve one another: “Railroads are all about community relations and giving back”. Through competence, consistency, and communication, Brett believes that railroads have been a crucial link in keeping our world together, and wants to see the prideful and niche industry continue to be a tool for the greater good.

Thank you all for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle, and a most sincere thank you to railroaders and soldiers that have made their lives in industries that are more than a job. Tune in June 9th for Behind the Throttle’s first international spotlight with Simone de Beuzeville from The Picnic Train in Australia. Until then, I’m Max Harris, and I’ll see you down the line.

Today’s spotlight tells the story of a dedicated person with a resume longer than a pharmacy receipt. Having spent a lengthy career at a multitude of outfits, we feature someone who’s learned best from first-hand experiences, and now works to give them back. Today on Behind the Throttle, we meet Zach Hall - In The Seat.

Zach’s interest in railroading transpired alongside his dad’s. His first memory with trains takes him back to 1992 when he and his family ventured to West Virginia to ride the famous “New River Train”, an annual excursion that boasted a parade of vintage railcars behind a steam locomotive through the New River Gorge. Zach’s father recalls that Zach wasn’t particularly excited about their family trip, not having much prior exposure to trains. Though Zach’s opinion changed and a smile formed when he detrained for a photo runby, where the famed Nickel Plate Road 765 roared past the crowd with the throttle on the roof. That spot where Zach stood and watched the steam-superpower show in front of him became ground zero for the industry that would become his life. Later that night, Zach’s father was invited to join the engine crew for their evening servicing of the massive 2-8-4 locomotive thanks to a mutual friend, which simultaneously started an interest in being involved with steam the same day as his son. Returning back home to Michigan from their trip, Zach and his dad were already looking to schedule their first weekend of volunteering with the Fort Wayne Railroad Historical Society, the organization that owns and operates the engine that lit their fire. Helping with various tasks in the shop, they also found themselves with seats along for the locomotive’s tours as Zach’s dad was handy in the kitchen and knew how to cook for a small army from his job at the fire station. Preparing meals for the crews and helping with tasks en route became status quo for the father/son pair, and a young Zach was overzealous to soak it all in.

As Zach grew up and was able to offer more help in the shop, he was frequently put alongside some of the steam champions of the early 2000s that would become his mentors. In 2004, Zach was volunteering some time with his dad at the Age of Steam museum in Sugarcreek, Ohio. At the time, the Age of Steam had several operating steam locomotives and was running excursions on the mainline track of the Ohio Central, adjacent to the property. One day - though an excursion was running just beyond the walls of the shop - Zach and his dad were neck deep on a locomotive project working alongside Gary Bensman - one such steam champion that Zach developed a close working relationship with. During their work session, the pair were noticed by Age of Steam founder Jerry Joe Jacobson, and he saw their work effort and took action by offering them a job. Fresh out of high school, Zach was blown away at the opportunity to work on steam engines and get paid! He remembers not having a clue for what the going rate of working on steam was, but blindly saying yes and starting into a work contract that would last him the better part of a year. At the conclusion of the contract, Zach had now worked up enough experience to feel confident in the industry and had enough of a resume to start broadcasting himself out to the railroad world in hopes of finding a career. His first offer for an interview took him out to Arizona with the Grand Canyon Railway. Zach’s father had joined him for the trip west, and before long he was riding in the cab of an excursion while Zach talked shop with the train master and chief mechanical officer. They reconvened after their individual experiences, each with a job offer. The two convinced Zach’s mom to move out to Arizona, and the Hall father-son duo found themselves in a new shop with two new steam engines to learn from. At the time, the Grand Canyon Railway was running steam frequently during the busy tourism season, giving Zach plenty of time in the fireman’s seat, engineer’s seat, and everywhere else around the railroad to learn what it took to make a steam operation of a grand scale thrive.

After three years, a leadership change at the Grand Canyon Railway saw a scaling back in steam operations which ultimately led to Zach and his dad’s jobs being cut. Grateful for the time he spent there, Zach was motivated to find another job in the same field. His dad moved with Zach’s mom to Chicago, but Zach stayed out west and began in the steam shop at the Heber Valley Railroad in northern Utah in 2008. At the Heber, their steam engine was operating rather frequently and Zach fell right back into the rhythm of working on and operating a steam locomotive on the daily. The Heber Valley 618, a former Union Pacific 2-8-0, was nearing the end of it’s current operational period, and Zach helped hold the engine together for it’s few final runs. This included one last photo freight event, where Zach remembers doing several-mile runbys as photographers stood on the other side of the Deer Creek Reservoir, capturing the snowcapped Wasatch mountains with plumes of coal smoke rising from the stocky engine. He spent two years at the railroad before seeking out a career change that would bring him closer to home.

Having relocated to where his parents were living in Chicago, Zach began to put out feelers for a new career path. He had offers from both Amtrak and Union Pacific for stable engineer positions on the respective Class 1 railroads, but felt a pull to stick with the older locomotives that he’d grown to love and respect. Having reconnected with his old friend and mentor Gary Bensman, Zach joined along for Gary’s travels in the historic railroad industry, working as his right-hand-man on the various contracts and projects that were then on the table. These travels took him far and wide over the east coast, lending a capable hand in keeping wheels turning and water boiling. In 2012, after two years of working together Zach and Gary were wrapping up a rebuild project on the Soo Line 1003, a locomotive based out Wisconsin. Around this time, Zach’s current engineer card was soon to expire, so he began thinking about finding a railroad to renew it on. He reached out to an old friend and coworker who was now managing a shortline in Central Pennsylvania, and discovered that they were soon to launch their own steam program with a little 2-6-0 engine in need of rebuilding. Talking the owner of the Everett Railroad Company, Zach struck a deal that would have him run the railroad’s freight job on a few odd weekdays when the regular crew was out, and was soon to be tasked with getting Everett No. 11 from a rusty boiler back into an operating locomotive. After wrapping up a work-trade agreement at the Tennessee Valley Railroad Museum (have you lost track of how many places Zach has worked yet?), he moved to Cumberland, Maryland where the small but mighty No. 11 was awaiting it’s turn to be rebuilt. After two years in Maryland, the engine (and Zach) moved up to the Everett Steam Shop in Claysburg, Pennsylvania, just a few miles south of Altoona. As the little shortline prospered and profited from freight traffic, money was sent right to the steam shop so Zach and the team could piece the little engine back together. In April of 2015, the first scoop of coal was thrown and the engine simmered back to life slowly. Zach has been around a few dozen steam engines now and has had a hand in many restorations and efforts, but the 11 holds a very special place to him as he feels it was the first engine that he was mostly in charge of bringing back from a long period of inoperability. The walls of the Everett Railroad office bear a photo of Zach, the railroad’s general manager Jason Lamb, steam mechanics Dan Pluta and Barney Grambling, and track inspector John Hafer all standing with sly smiles and hands in their bibs, gazing at the engine with expressions that say “Yeah, we did that”. After 10 years of operation, the 11 has pulled all but one of the excursions that were scheduled to be steam powered, handled several thousand tons of revenue freight alongside it’s passenger duties, and even served as a testbed for a biofuel-coal substitute.

Even past coming into his position as steam shop supervisor at the Everett, Zach’s story and resume continues to grow. During his short stay at the Tennessee Valley Railroad Museum, he was introduced to Davidson Ward, who would go on to be one of the founding members of FMW Solutions, now a (round)household name in the railroad industry for performing contract work on historic equipment and managing operations in several locales. FMW reached out to Zach in 2019 where he then began talks with the Everett about having a split-time deal (it should also be noted that Zach had been making trips to Fort Wayne since coming back to the east coast to work on the 765, and took over the position of Operations Manager within the group in 2016) to help out his old friends in their new endeavor. With a tentative schedule outlined for Zach to assist with a major contract, the world was soon to be brought to a grinding halt as the Covid pandemic began making headlines. The timing worked in Zach’s favor though, as when the Everett put a pause on steam he was able to head down to Florida to aide in the lofty endeavor of starting a tourist railroad for the mega-corporation US Sugar, on behalf of FMW, and was made the general foreman for the whole company in 2020. Following five years of travels and restorations, Zach continues to be a liaison for steam across the country with FMW.

Jeez, I’m out of breath.

Through every project and milestone, the magic of historic railroading is yet to be lost on Zach and he feels grateful to now be ushering in a new generation of enthusiastic individuals with passion for the skills they are learning. Across every site that he’s been involved with, he feels there is a great willingness to work and learn in the employee/volunteer bodies, recognizing that “Railroading is more than a job. You have to be passionate about it, you could take your skills and make a lot more elsewhere.” Zach also likes to think back to the “naive, probably annoying younger version of myself” (his words, not mine), and keeps these memories handy for when he fulfills the role of teaching someone the the invaluable skills of the trade. As Zach continues to extend his reach and educate those now getting involved, he firmly believes that experience is the only way to learn how to do the trades needed within locomotive restoration and operation: “What we do cannot be learned in a book.” Personally, Zach recalled his first time in the fireman’s seat on a running locomotive, which happened to be the Grand Trunk Western 6325 at Age of Steam. The night before, he found himself reading several historical books about firing and some old enginemen’s manuals from the days of steam, and found that no specific numbers were used, but enginemen were expected to learn from their locomotive and respond to it’s needs. From this experience, he developed the philosophy that demonstrating the theory behind the operations with real-life examples and experiences leads to competent restorationists and railroaders, a method that has proven to be successful.

On the note of personal triumphs, Zach is grateful to have developed a passion that held him close to his father and gave them a chance to work together professionally. Similarly, Zach is very grateful for all of the mentors and friends that have come from the railroad world, including his now-wife, Samantha. When asked about some favorite memories, he brought up that first day in the fireman’s seat on a massive 4-8-4 that would go on to be a foundation for him learning how to understand a hot steam engine. He also mentioned the thousands of memorable experiences with the Fort Wayne Railroad Historical Society: “We’ve done a lot of cool things with 765.” 70 miles per hour into Chicago, trips across the Norfolk Southern system, and bringing 765 next to several of it’s preserved sister Berkshires all invoke pride and passion within Zach’s work with the group.

Thinking to the future of the historic railroad industry, Zach wants to stress the ideas of mechanical competence and safety as a new generation takes control. Understanding that this line of work is largely a labor of love and passion, Zach sees it crucial that those involved also understand the responsibility of operating and maintaining a locomotive, and see how crucial the commitment to safety and upkeep is: “You’re part of something bigger than yourself, this isn’t about number of likes on a post.” He is similarly excited about the modern technology entering historic shop spaces, and feels that advancements in CNC, 3D printing, and laser scanning will help ensure that steam locomotives stay hot for years to come. Overall, Zach has found a craft that he is proud to have dedicated his professional life to, and hopes it continues to be a safe and professional space where people can come together to learn from and appreciate the machines of the past.

Thank you all for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle, and thanks to Zach for coming on with us! Tune in May 26th, Memorial Day, for a special feature on Behind The Throttle dedicated to the military side of the railroad industry. Until then, I’m Max Harris and I’ll see you down the line.

Coming into the world of historic trains, it’s easy to see the joy and fascination with these iron horses coming from the public and the railroad world alike. As members of the industry dive further, however, it’s revealed that the trains themselves are just one of the characteristics - albeit the physically largest and loudest - that compile these huge operations that bring people together. Our spotlight today follows the journey of a lifelong enthusiast who dove headfirst into the world of major excursions and rail operations, and found that the people served and the people involved are the real stars of the show. Behind the Throttle is proud to introduce Josh Cascarella - The Big Picture.

Josh attributes his first memory involving trains to the Strasburg Rail Road in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, near where he grew up. His grandmother had a connection to the railroads with her father having spent his career with the Pennsylvania Railroad, and felt it important that Josh and his siblings be exposed to trains. Though Josh’s first memory at Strasburg seemingly should have had the adverse effect as he found himself terrified by the real-life incarnation of Thomas the Tank engine. He specifically remembers being off-put by the animated face on the steam engine, and then the loud hiss of a safety valve sent tears and screams in every which direction. Despite the early trauma, Josh found to love his family trips to Strasburg and kept returning with his grandmother, often hopping the train that would depart the station at 11 o’clock, deboarding at the picnic grove, and taking the later train back to the station. As Josh grew to primary school age, he found that he felt happiest around trains and knew at that time that his fascination would continue.

Family trips for the Cascarellas would often involve detours to nearby museums and tourist railroads, and rides on the Strasburg were still a frequent outing, but Josh stunted his involvement and interest in trains at that for middle and high school as he focused on his musical ability that would become another passion of his. However, his interest for railroading was persistent, and he always felt his inner-child come out on those trips to museums and railroads. Following his undergraduate studies in business administration, Josh began to search out related jobs at various railroads before seeing that Strasburg was looking to hire a restaurant manager for their new on-site restaurant. Knowing some of the folks involved with the railroad from his visits and around the community, Josh was encouraged to apply - though he frankly needed no encouragement, as he always kept the railroad in the back of his head as a prospective place of employment: “(working for Strasburg) was always he goal in the back of my head”. From inside the cafe, Josh got to see the fascinating world of trains and new-age steam railroading from a whole new lens and was further hooked. Beyond that, he was inspired by the many railroaders who found their passion with steam and made it their career and livelihood. These people Josh now called coworkers, and many even friends. Motivated by their paths, Josh felt a new level of confidence in making his dream job a reality: “Anybody can do this, I can do this”.

In 2021, Josh made a career change and found himself in the land of a thousand railroads: Northeastern Pennsylvania. In the dawn of the industrial days, The Anthracite region was famous for boasting a few thousands of railroad miles across a dozen companies all trying to strike it rich with black diamonds. Now operated by the Reading and Northern Railroad, the region is well-serviced by freight trains and as Josh would find out, had big plans for introducing an intricate network of passenger operations across their claim. Hired as the director of passenger operations out of Reading, one of the company’s operating centers, Josh was placed command of all of the excursions and railroad-sponsored community events for the region, a daunting and wide scope. Josh’s job was rather loose during his first few months as both he and the railroad saw huge potential for growth of the passenger operations the prosperous railroad hosted. With an ambitious - yet somewhat overwhelmed - director, Josh set to the drawing board to help the railroad take its passenger trains to grander scales and more publics. The ubiquitous job also landed Josh in many different roles, a type of flexibility he appreciated. Some days Josh would be in the office planning events, others he would be selling tickets and meeting with local communities, and others he found himself in the conductor’s uniform onboard the excursions he organized and managed. The mixed-bag job helped keep him on his toes, and he appreciated the flexibility and all that he learned through the various roles he occupied.

Not long after Josh hired on with the Reading and Northern, his railroad would become the center of nation-wide attention from the steam community as the railroad wrapped up a restoration on a massive 4-8-4 type locomotive. T-1 No. 2102, originally built by the Reading Railroad, was a known steam star in the late 1980s and 90s, running in several parts of the Northeast United States. The R&N (now operator of much of the former Reading trackage the 2102 would frequent decades prior) had launched a several year and several million dollar effort to rebuild the monumental locomotive as their steam and passenger programs expanded, all of which concluded before Josh had spent a full year with the company. Once the engine was ready to take on the high iron, Josh and his dedicated team were put in charge of planning the several trips and fanfare that would reintroduce the 2102 to the world, and introduce the engine to a whole new generation (Behind the Throttle Author and Editor included). Researching the previous excursions that had run behind the 2102 and its sister locomotives, Josh was surprised to see the dense history that encompassed such trips and realized how special they were to many, and how the revival was set to carry forth the same legacy. There was a moment he can recall where he thought to himself: “I’m a part of history right here”. The several million people that have now seen, ridden behind, and chased the 2102 would surely agree. Similarly, the workplace onboard and behind the excursions can all vouch for the impact that such trips had on the local communities and the railroad industry, much of which is thanks to the long days and sleepless nights that Josh and his team worked behind the scenes. He remarked: “There’s so much more to this than just running the trains”.

After a wonderful four-year career with the Reading and Northern, Josh recently moved on from the world of regional railroads to join operations with the nation’s passenger carrier, Amtrak. Excited about the endless possibilities that career with Amtrak brings, Josh hopes to be a great conductor and continue on a path upwards in his future. He looks back on his chapter with the R&N with much gratitude, and trusts that the railroad will continue to be successful. He feels that the job he held led him to be a more empathetic employee and railroader, seeing all sides of the process, from operations, to management, and even to payroll. Though, being a boss was not easy for him at first, as he felt uncomfortable not always being a people pleaser. He quickly learned: “You can’t be a total hard-ass or total empath all the time.” Similarly, he also recognized how much work goes into every realm of the job, and worked hard to give his employees a good culture to be a part of: “If your staff isn’t happy why would they come back?” Finding the balance between a happy workplace but also having a degree of authority came with time, and he felt those two characteristics were crucial to keeping people involved with the industry he wants to see thrive for years to come. Hoping to help continue the traditions of railroading, he made sure to hire many young faces and help a new generation get their foot in the door for a career ahead. Similarly, Josh has taken upon himself the role of a volunteer conductor at one of his favorite historical outfits, the East Broad Top in central Pennsylvania. Knowing it’s cultural and historical significance, Josh is more than willing and able to lend his tend to ensure that the visitors of the site have a safe and enjoyable visit and hopes they are further inspired to learn more about railroading: past, present, and future.

Josh’s departure from the R&N was met with lots of love from his team, and Josh looks forward to returning and seeing what the railroad accomplishes in his stead. Railroad culture has always had a way of forming brotherhoods between employees, and Josh felt privileged to become a part of the R&N family, with so many passionate and skilled people who were willing to teach and to learn. Though Josh may differ in beliefs and lifestyle from many of his former coworkers, they most always worked well together and demonstrated mutual levels of respect. Being able to come together on their mutual fascination and career, it became a beautiful way to disconnect from the outside world: “We can put our differences aside and have fun and make people happy”. This camaraderie is something Josh hopes to carry on as he makes his way through the railroad world.

Looking to the tracks ahead, Josh continues to hope that he himself will do better than he did yesterday, and continue to learn. He is grateful to have found a workplace that means so much to him outside of a paycheck and hopes to see trains - both for transportation and for fun - pass by his retirement home. He also feels that there may come a time (if we haven’t already reached it) where a the idea of a steam locomotive starts to become alienated from society, and wants to make sure that everyone has a chance to experience what our industrial minds have accomplished, and can accomplish. The work that Josh has done in the past had surely seen this, and I have no doubt that when I’m writing for this blog in 20 years, one of my young spotlights will tell me their fond memory of their first ride behind a steam engine, being the No. 2102 in Northeastern Pennsylvania. Until then though, Josh will continue to learn himself, and help others navigate and trailblaze in the modern world above steel rails.

Thank you as always for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle, and thank you to Josh for sharing his life so far with us. Tune in on May 12th for our next installment, featuring Zach Hall - the everyman of steam. Until then, I’m Max Harris and I’ll see you down the line.

My personal journey through the world of trains has led me to cross paths with so many likeminded and enthusiastic individuals my age and below, who have the ability to make sense of numbers and equations that are otherwise gibberish to me. Many of those wonderful people I become lucky enough to call my friends, and I’m proud to have one such example on the blog today. This spotlight takes the crown for Behind the Throttle’s youngest feature - born just in 2003 - and with a bright and complicated future ahead. Today we meet Chris Coholich - Decoder, Railroader.

Chris’s first memory with trains - rather, his first memory altogether that he can recall - goes back to him playing with the classic “Brio” wooden trains that so many of us can fondly remember. Though, Chris’s specific memory paints him having a meltdown as his young brain was unable to put together the wooden tracks. Sitting on the floor of his playroom, surrounded by toy trains, this puzzle had stumped Chris and brought tears of frustration to his eyes - perhaps invigorating a desire to solves challenges and puzzles that would manifest in later years. His three siblings and his parents all did not share the budding interest in trains that was becoming more persistent in Chris’s life, but as he memorized the schedule of when the shortline railroad nearby their home and begged to go out and watch the train go by, they all began to realize this fascination wasn’t going anywhere. Growing up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, there certainly was no shortage of trains to leer at, and happenstance occurrences brought him trackside often. His extended family also caught on, and fed his new passion with gifting books and model trains that he would dive into, attempting to make sense of this wide world of railroading that grew each time he learned more. On a Boy Scouts trip when he was 12 years old, Chris and his troop visited the world-famous Horseshoe Curve in Altoona, Pennsylvania - a fantastic demonstration of engineering and horsepower. This trip helped cement the fascination, and Chris returned home itching to see more. The plentiful bike trails that paralleled train tracks became the regular stomping grounds for family rides, and his extended family continued to egg him on and encourage him to immerse.

Growing up in the age of computers, Chris soon found himself with more questions about trains than the internet could answer. His inquisitive side brought him to wonder “why are there railroad tracks here” and “where do the trains go?”. Hungry for answers, Chris took to the first method of finding out where the tracks went that he could think of: following the train tracks on Google Maps - naturally. This surface-level research was beginning of a deep-dive into railroad history that blew the world of trains that Chris had known into a new dimension. Largely on his own, Chris sought out knowledge on the dense history of railroading that built city, state, and country he called home. With each spur track that he followed on a satellite map, his brain began to move faster and faster, trying to keep up with the wealth of knowledge he found about the millions of miles of steel rails that criss-crossed every stretch of the world that he knew. Then came social media, where he found himself in group-chats with other people as crazy about trains as himself. With a backing community that helped fill the gaps in his knowledge and gave him tools to learn more, Chris found himself on the mainline to a lifelong fixation that would dictate his future trajectory.

Chris’s fascination with history wasn’t his own means of being interested in trains though. Throughout his time in high school, Chris began to gravitate to field of science, technology, engineering, and math, taking from his long-standing enjoyment from solving puzzles. Past that first puzzle of how to fit wooden train tracks together, Chris placed himself in above-level engineering courses in high school and began searching for a university that could further his understanding. His father and many other family members all had success at the Pennsylvania State University, and he needed little persuasion to follow their footsteps, especially after learning that the university boasts a model railroad club.

Chris’s studies landed him an internship at the engineering and railroad giant Westinghouse Air Brake Technologies Corporation, or Wabtec, after his sophomore year. He recounted with a laugh the story of getting the internship, which involved a frantic bike ride to a Kohl’s about four miles from campus after he discovered he possessed not a single collared T-shirt before the career fair where he would meet the recruiter, and the following day making the same trip on his bike to acquire another collared shirt so he wouldn’t be wearing the same outfit in his subsequent interview. His ambition and knowledge - along with a both of his shirts - made a lasting impression with the company and he took on his first internship in Grove City, Pennsylvania, where Wabtec assembles prime movers and engine blocks for the large locomotives that are the backbone of railroads worldwide. Having studies the mechanics of a diesel-electric locomotive in the past, Chris knew largely how the systems worked already, but seeing them actually be assembled and tested proved to be a new element in his fascination. Though his primary function in the internship was quality-checking the machining and drilling of the holes in engine blocks, he had the chance to go out and see the whole process and learn more about what it takes to build a locomotive from the ground up. With no hesitation, Chris opted for a second internship in the summer of 2024, where he spent time in the main locomotive facility in Erie, Pennsylvania where locomotives have been built for over 100 years under General Electrics. Particularly fascinated with early GE locomotives, this opportunity was most exciting for Chris, and he found himself working with a brand new realm of locomotive upon arrival. Battery technology is now making it’s way to the railroads, and Chris’s main project was working with a prototype battery locomotive destined for Australia. “The railroads have always been innovators, finding new ways to solves problems”, Chris explained. Chris recognizes battery technology has a long way to go and isn’t an end-all solution for the future of locomotives, though he found it valuable to be alongside a new chapter of innovation and design in the industry he hopes to make a difference in.

Less than three weeks beyond this article’s publication, Chris will walk the stage at his commencement ceremony and gradate from Penn State. He leaves beyond a club that became a cornerstone of his college experience - the aforementioned Penn State Model Railroad Club. Chris had always had an interest in model trains since he graduated from the wooden trains and later Legos, but lacked the time, space, and money that model railroading tends to guzzle. The university club alleviated the need of the money and space, and he found the time to invest. Serving as Vice President his junior year and President his senior year, Chris found that the hobby is more than just appreciating the machines in model form, but rather is a way to further investigate history, purpose, and electronics, all while building something beautiful. Further, he found a wonderful community that allowed him to work on his leadership skills, public speaking and presenting, and have a space and medium to not fear failure in pursuits of new methods. “It’s always fun when you have someone to share the hobby with”, he told me. Plus (speaking as the club president before Chris), the club is a lot of fun. The model railroad club built a large modular display and hosted events all throughout the school year, inviting other students and community members to see their creations and get excited about trains, a rather worthy endeavor in Chris’s (and my own) opinion. The club that Chris leave behind looks rather different than it did when he first started at Penn State, with a new home and new projects, and a new future: “I want to come back in 5 years and see the club still around”.

Chris’s journey through being a train enthusiast to technology engineer has been defined by a handful of keystone moments. He can recall an outing with a friend from primary school, where both his friend and his friend’s father were railfans and realized that liking trains was a real phenomenon that could grow beyond just a casual interest. He then thought to receiving the letter of acceptance to the internship program that would line the track for his eventual career, with taking a trip on the Erie plant test track being a highlight from the whole experience. Riding in locomotives that he had spent the last few months working to understand, he was given a chance to see all of the systems - both the technology and the prime movers - in action as the colorful consist of locomotives made its way down the test line. He also recalls many moments of pride with the Penn State Model Railroad Club, where young visitors got to see the exciting of trains thanks to him and his team’s creations, and hopefully helped spur lifelong passions just the same as his.

With two internships under his belt, and degree he fought hard for, and experience as a leader and problem solver, Chris feels well-equipped and ready for his next adventure: “It’s a new frontier”, he feels. Leaving Wabtec’s intern program, Chris accepted their offer to come back for a real job upon his graduation. His railroad engineering career will first take him to Kansas in a BNSF shop where he’ll work alongside the railroad technicians to understand how the engines behave on the road and how their managed and repaired, before he rotates back to headquarters to continue in their development. Citing one of his favorite railroads, “The Pennsylvania Railroad was always a chief innovator”, Chris is excited to continue in the railroad way of innovation and progress, but is also mindful of the need for operation excellence and efficiency. He hopes to work for a future of reliable machines that the men and women of the railroads can safely operate and contribute to a healthy global commerce network, and still enjoy the magic of trains that took him by storm at a young age. And who knows, maybe one day the’ll finally be able to put those wooden tracks together!

Thank you for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle, and thanks to Chris for sharing his story with us! Tune in Monday April 28th for our next edition, featuring Josh Cascarella reflecting on his career with the Reading and Northern railroad in Pennsylvania. Until then, I’m Max Harris, and I’ll see you down the line.

The bug of a railroad fixation takes more than one form; People are drawn towards trains in many ways and their interests manifest just the same. While many people will exhibit a different level of symptoms once infected with a love of railroading, most everyone who finds themselves working in the industry goes to feel a sense of pride and a drive to see accomplishments happen in their field. If you combine this paragon with an ambitious and zealous person, you’ll get a force of railroading. Today’s spotlight proudly features one such example of a railroader who gets it done. Today, we meet Bethan Maher - Barter, Borrow, and Steel.

Transcending the typical archetype of railroading being a “lifelong passion”, Bethan’s youth was spent without much of a railroad influence. Though she can recall one vivid memory of her young-self onboard the Adirondack Scenic Railroad in upstate New York, and a few other times of riding Amtrak and Subways, trains seldom got more than a passing thought. Her interest in history as a whole is what eventually led Bethan down the railroad track.

Following the completion of her undergraduate degree (studying, incredibly, underwater archeology!), Bethan found herself returning to the Adirondack Scenic with a resume in hand as she hunted for an applicable career to last maybe a year, soon to take her first job with a railroad. Bethan then told me: “What a slippery slope that’s been!”. Fulfilling the role of office manager at the tourist line, Bethan’s dangerously enthusiastic personality clashed in a beautiful battle against the status quo within the railroad. She would quickly take on much more than the roles outlined in her job listing, organizing and managing special events, dipping into operations, and pretty much any other role that needed filed. In Bethan’s words, “There was no fear of failure”, and her lack of this fear governed her ballistic approach to managing the railroad that soon became her second home.

Bethan’s first three years at the Adirondack Scenic quickly revealed that the railroad and it’s managing nonprofit organization needed more structure and leadership, and naturally she sought to raise the issue before long. As more and more work fell under her umbrella, she approached the board and spelled out that there was a need for one central leader with an established chain-of-command. Expecting to be removed from the room, the board instead took her message and appointed her executive director at just 24-years-old. With no sign of slowing down, Bethan continued to climb the railroad out of debt and begin making a profit on their excursions, all while empowering the various departments of the railroad to get ahead on upkeep and maintenance, setting the railroad up for success in the long term. With every victory came a handful of hardships, but for a young executive director with a limited knowledge of the nitty-gritty of railroading, these challenges proved to be opportunities to learn and grow into the industry. Though, personal and sexist whispers made their way around the railroad and the surrounding communities - not an easy thing to manage in any circumstance. Bethan persisted, spinning the “you’re a girl and you don’t know how to this” type comments to “If you tell me I don’t know what I’m doing, then teach me”.

With an motivated and determined team of staff and volunteers Bethan found herself among a successful tourist railroad that offered safe, professional, and enjoyable experiences through a beautiful part of the country. The journey was far from easy, but every struggle was a lesson, and served as a plan for when a similar issue surfaced. The Adirondack Scenic’s greatest feud came when a battle with New York State (owner of the right-of-way the railroad operates on) opted to remove the tail end of the railroad that joined to the tracks to the popular tourist destination of Lake Placid. The dramatic and messy legal battle that followed dragged on for several years, and by the end Bethan was burnt and ready for a new chapter. She began to look outward for new opportunities, leading her to the opposite side of the country in 2016.

The Mt. Rainier Scenic Railroad operates just outside of the namesake national park in former logging railroad territory. It’s first iteration as a tourist outfit was spurred on by a private individual who ran the railroad as his personal museum. By the time Bethan had arrived, the site had been bought by American Heritage Railroads, a tourist railroad operator that had hoped to continue and expand on operations through the redwood forests. Bethan made the move out to Washington state and was on-site with her new prospect just a few short month after leaving New York, yet fate would have it that her world would be turned upside down yet again. A devastating fire broke out in Durango, Colorado - home of AHR’s largest operation, the Durango and Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad. With an uncertain future and momentary shutdown of AHR’s operations while the fire raged, Bethan found her first actions in charge at then MRSR to be placing the railroad into” survival mode” through what would be a huge revenue drought. They were able to resume operations for the 2017 season and onward, but financial woes stunted the growth efforts that Bethan had hoped to achieve. In 2020, obvious events that this author does not feel like recounting caused the railroad to shutter once more.

With no timeline on the railroad’s reopening, it seemed that the rails would be silent in Pierce County for a while. Physically unable to give up hope though, Bethan and the railroad’s staff worked to find a new way to operated the railroad. Now with an established nonprofit, in 2022 they were finally able to work out that the Mt. Rainier Scenic Railroad would be released from American Heritage Railways and given to the new NPO. Knowing the time and dedication it would take, she was persistently eager to give the railroad the try she felt it deserved: “We have to run the train and see if people will come”. In the meantime, Bethan and her husband welcomed their first child to the world, but motherhood did anything but slow her down for this exciting chapter that was unfolding. Joined by the now superintendent of the railroad, Rowdy Pierce, they would go and established an executive board from members within the community and got to work on the new foundation for what would become the third iteration of the Mount Rainier Scenic Railroad. A united and enthusiastic base of volunteers and employees working well beyond 40 hours in a week got rail-bikes running and people on the property before long, and steam was on the horizon. Success was not a guarantee, but that stopped no one - especially Bethan: “Maybe if we failed someone else would learn”.

In September of 2023, the railroad officially reopened with train rides - while Bethan was going into labor two months early. Dispatching calls from the emergency room and making sure the railroad was thriving in her stead, her twins came into the world on the same day that the railroad reintroduced itself: “I gave birth to twins and to a railroad in the same day”, she said with a laugh, but then cited that her team was more than capable of managing the place on their own as she was busy with slightly more pressing matters. A proud-parent moment occurred just a few weeks after when she returned to the workplace with her three children, husband, and parents, and found the railroad humming along to great success. Still recovering from childbirth, Bethan was able to enjoy a train ride with her train-obsessed son, knowing that everything was under control. The railroad continues to thrive and grow under Bethan’s leadership and the team she has amassed, and she takes great pride in that she has hired back most everyone that she had to lay-off in her first few months. As a leader, Bethan exudes positivity and optimism to her workforce, and maintains that the job - while taken seriously - should be fun, especially in an organization that needs volunteers. Bethan also perpetuates that her crews look after one another, citing that this industry needs steady communication and well-being of employees to prosper.

For those who follow the Mt. Rainier Scenic Railroad on social media, you are surely aware of the unapologetically-transparent and somewhat absurdist presence they hold online. The brains behind this approach - you guessed it: Bethan. In discussing her tactic, she recalled the first post with the blunt wording that came from before the railroad’s rebirth, where she posted about a volunteer work-weekend where the team painted up a passenger car with Rust-Oleum, lacking funds for anything else. This post generated an immense amount of traction and attention for the page, and donations spiked. From there, the rest is history. “We’re not classy people,” Bethan explained. “There’s no masking anything, it’s just unapologetically us”. Walking the line of maintaining a “professional” (as in safe and responsible) image, but not taking themselves too seriously, the railroad has seen lots of support from the public, with Bethan feels comes from the sincerity and transparency in the page. Plus, the humor makes her job and her coworkers’ jobs much more fun: “If we weren’t having fun we would have killed each other”.

Taking the railroad - and herself - into the future, Bethan hopes to see the organization grow and her employee/volunteer base continue to thrive. The team at MRSR is a rather young force, with Bethan (at 36 years young herself) often referred to as the elder of the tribe. Throughout the industry as a whole, she hopes to see ego take a backstage to progress, and competition among tourist/historic outfits disappear: “We are competing with aquariums, zoos, hiking trails, and movie theaters, not each other”. Bethan also feels that the industry does have work to do on being a more inclusive space, citing her own experience rising in the ranks. More discussions across different railroad sites, along with people and organizations being accountable to their actions and their own betterment is her vision for success, and she hopes to emulate all of that within her organization. Optimistic for the future and hopeful for a better industry, Bethan Maher will continue to lead a dedicated team that enjoys the ride and promises a better tomorrow.

Thank you for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle, and thanks to Bethan for sharing her story with us. Tune in on April 14th for our next story - featuring Chris Colohich, a lifelong enthusiast about to start a career with Wabtec. In the meantime, I am Max Harris, and I’ll see you all down the line.

Restarting Behind the Throttle was motivated by a lot of things, but one of the most prevalent factors was my hope to spread positivity through the railroading industry. For our first feature of the second edition, we are excited to share the story of a railroader who always find a smile above steel rails, even against hard circumstances. For today’s feature, we are excited to introduce Brian Davies - With a Smile.

Brian was born in the midwest United States in the late 1970s to a family with no more than a passing interest in railroads. Though as a young child Brian always lit up when his parents would detour their route home to pass by the nearby Chicago Northwestern Mainline. In 1984, a National Geographic show called “Love Those Trains” further invigorated the budding interest in railroading. The show featured clips from railroads around the world, and the episodes featuring Colorado’s famous Durango and Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad were always his favorites. Noting his fascination with trains, Brian’s dad and grandfather began to take him to the nearby Illinois Railway Museum for their special events, and later planned a family trip to Durango, Colorado, to see the railroad and the landscape that would glue Brian to a television for hours. Brian recalled that at 7 years old, he first set foot on the Durango and Silverton and had an “aha!” moment when he realized that the railroad he would obsess over back home was a real thing, still happening today. He has a vivid memory of his family’s first ride aboard the D&S, with locomotive 476 pulling his train. This engine would later become one of Brian’s favorite coworkers.

With father/son trips (often joined by his mother and his brother) to the IRM happening frequently, and the Davies family making the trek to Durango a yearly tradition, it’s no wonder that Brian’s interest in trains stuck around. As he got older, he itched to get involved in the behind-the-scenes work that kept his beloved railroads running, and the day after his 18th birthday (the first day he could volunteer on his own), Brian was at the Illinois Railway Museum, dawning a pair of clean overalls that would be stained black by lunchtime. Brian explained to me that he “dove head first into working on 1630”, the IRM’s large 2-10-0 steam locomotive. Given Brian’s skinnier build, head-first here is meant literally. His ambition and hunger for knowledge went a long way, and the time he began to dedicate (all with a big toothy smile on his face) did not go unnoticed. In 1996 Brian was given a chance to take up firing, his first taste of being a part of an engine crew. He took to the art of scoop quickly and marked up as a qualified fireman on his birthday of the same year, and quickly worked up to being an engineer in 1999. Brian would routinely find himself up at the museum for the next several years to come, spending his weekends with a group of volunteers that became his friends. He explained that every volunteer had a “I want to be here” type mindset, which was more than conducive to his education on steam locomotives. Similarly, the museum at that time had a group mindset of “We can get a lot done just by trying”, which often led the team of volunteers to succeed beyond what they though was actually capable. Brian was “passionate, or obsessed; whatever you want to call it”, he told me with a smile. His face was frequently dark with soot and grease, yet his smile brightened it up, earning him the nickname “Smiley” from some of the more senior folks he worked with.

In 2005, Brian felt the need for a big change and decided to try and make a childhood dream come true: Live in Durango and work for the railroad that lit off his passion. He hired on with the Maintenance-of-Way department, responsible for the upkeep of the track and monitoring line-side fires. His first summer season was spent pulling spikes and fighting fires, a new realm of railroad he was yet to experience but grateful to learn. The next year, he progressed to train operations too, and found himself working as a brakeman on the bucket-list train ride through the San Juan National Forest, sharing the railroad he loved with thousands of people and hoping to give them the same great experience that he had on his first trip at just seven years old. Though in 2007, Brian was involved in an accident working in maintenance-of-way, where his small speeder car used to patrol behind the trains was struck by a vehicle. This accident left Brian hurt physically, but also mentally. In need of some rejuvenation, he moved out to his parents’ new home in Florida and took a few years to recharge from trains.

While on hiatus from the world of steam, Brian worked with family on heavy machinery but felt the itch to railroad frequently. He explained to me that he was grateful for the time away because it showed him how important trains are to his sense of self: “You can’t be away from it for too long, you’ll miss it, it’s part of you.” Brian returned to the IRM to help retube the 1630 (the very task that got him started with the engine in the first place), to what felt like a homecoming. His fire was reignited, and he felt like himself again. He would return to Durango in 2019 as a fireman, manning both an oil throttle and a coal scoop for some time as he reacclimatized to railroading at an altitude. Without much warning, Brian was set on the roster of student engineers too, and found himself marking up as an engineer before long. From the engineer’s seat, Brian one day found himself looking down into the canyon at a scene that seemed familiar for some reason; he would then realize that the same angle was one of his favorite scenes in “Love Those Trains”, that he now got to view live-in-skin every day.

Nowadays, Brian splits his time between three areas: He works as a freelance legal transcriptionist during the winters at his family’s home in Florida, and spends his summers working as an engineer in Durango, all while sneaking back “home” to the Illinois Railway Museum in-between. On a personal note, I’ve been lucky enough to work crews with Brian during my own summer-stint on the Silverton, and found that he always brought a contagious smile with him to work, and made the days not only fun but worthwhile. Railroading, even in a tourist or a historic sense, is naturally a demanding job that involves uncomfortable environments and tough situations. Though through all that, Brian maintains gratitude for the work he does and executes each task with a calm demeanor and positive attitude. Brian mentioned that a brush with cancer in 2001 is a big reason for his level of gratitude as it proved to him that not every day is promised, nor do we always know the circumstances behind someone else’s life. Keeping these two things in mind, he approaches situations with respect for his coworkers and the public, and stays optimistic even when the days get long. Through every challenge is an opportunity to learn and grow, two of Brian’s favorite things to do.

Brian and I recounted some of his most favorite and formative memories from his long career with steam. He cited one of his first overnight experiences at the IRM when the 1630’s tubing was just finished, and he found himself with a small crew to take the engine for a test run under the moonlight. This was his first experience with a hot locomotive not surrounded by the large crowd of the public, and he felt a certain degree of peace among the calamity of the locomotive on its own. Later, in the same place, the 1630 was tasked with pulling a train of 135 coal hoppers that were being stored on the IRM mainline (car storage is a easy way for railroads to make passive income). Hoping to fire for the massive train (perhaps having missed his last day at the gym), Brian found himself as the only qualified engineer in the cab at the time of the move. With a few hundred eyeballs and camera aimed at him, he worked the engine just right and hauled the monstrous train along the IRM’s mainline to the interchange track with class-one railroad Union Pacific. He had never worked the engine so hard but felt the engine was happy with such a draft being pulled through the grates, and was thankful for a change to show off the power of a steam locomotive well past the golden days of railroading.

A unique chapter in Brian’s life was around the Christmas season in 2018, when an long-time friend and co-volunteer at the IRM invited Brian to assist in restoring the Lanaiha, Kaanapali and Pacific railroad, a tourist railroad on old sugar cane trackage in Hawaii. Bringing the railroad back to operation after several years of dormancy, his roles encompassed anything from trimming the 4-foot weeds along the right of way to rebricking the firebox of the locomotives and getting them into operational shape. Upon running the trains, Brian was tasked with training the crews - mostly locals to the area who had never seen a train before. Brian was taken aback by the immense gratitude and hospitality shown by the locals who made up the majority of their passengers: “Everyone thanked us for opening the railroad.” His short stay in Hawaii lasted only four months, but those four months were spent running trains, fixing things, and running trains again. Grateful for the experience, Brian recognizes that it probably won’t ever happen again, but hopes the folks from the area remember that chapter as fondly as he does.

Thinking towards the future, Brian hopes the industry that helped him define himself continues to welcome new blood in need of an identity. Further, he feels strongly that “everybody deserves a mentor”, and tries to share the knowledge that he’s gained through his career with anyone who asks: “When I die I want everyone to know everything I’ve learned.” Talking shop and sharing experiences of railroading remains one of his favorite things to do with his peers, capitalizing on the unspoken brotherhood of those who railroad. Though he hopes to never finds himself bragging, he will always share a good story and the lessons he learned from it. Proud of the track he’s taken, Brian will continue to smile as he sits behind the throttle: “This is right, this is where I should be”.

Thank you for reading our first installment in Edition 2 of Behind the Throttle, and thanks to Brian’s friends for sharing photos. From here on we’ll be publishing biweekly, so stay tuned for our next story on March 31st featuring Bethan Maher of the Mt. Rainier Scenic Railroad. Until then, I’m Max Harris, and I’ll see you down the line.

Jon Neuer - an Engineer and Machinist on the Durango and Silverton - and I laughed as we walked along the famous hi-line of the Rocky Mountain railroad we both currently call our workplace. The stars lit up our night-time stroll along the right-of-way as we settled on a mutual conclusion: No explanation would ever make a true amount of sense to anyone (including ourselves). We just like trains, and working with them feels right.

Engineer Jon Neuer waves to a passing excursion train while his train waits to take the main. Photo by Max Harris

My love for railroading, history, and community is what lead me to start this blog back in 2019. My hope was to give recognition to some of the incredible people that I’d come in contact with through my railroad pursuits, and share stories of their motivations, efforts, and hopes for the future. For some, it was simply a job they grew to love, and for others it was a lifelong dream that they were proud to be living. Each perspective came with its own message and own impact, all equally powerful in telling the story of an industry that transcends a typical “9 to 5”.

My last story was published over three years ago on this blog. At the time I was working on an undergraduate degree, within a flurry of extracurricular tasks, and marking up as a conductor for on a shortline railroad. My dwindling free time led me to table Behind the Throttle, though that isn’t the whole story: I found that often times after publishing a story I’d receive some degree of personal negative feedback, citing some reason to dislike my most recent spotlight. Admittedly I was discouraged and found myself nervous every time I published about some form of backlash for reasons my younger self couldn’t really comprehend. Though if there is one thing I believe this world needs more of (other than mass transit and hi-speed rail), it is positivity. I’ve now come to the conclusion that being discouraged by ego and negativity is a disservice to the future of this industry that I hope persists for my hypothetical grandchildren to enjoy. Therefore, I write.

A crowd of locals from Montello, Nevada, “oooo”s and “aaaahhh”s at the Union Pacific Big Boy in 2024. Photo by Max Harris

Now armed with a degree, a bulk more experience in the world of railroading, and slightly more free time than before, I am excited to light the markers on a new chapter of Behind The Throttle. Centering around the ideas of positivity, inspiration, gratitude, and passion, I intend on feverishly writing stories that detail the lives of those who railroad. I hope to spread and inspire a forward-thinking mindset that showcases the unique individuals that make up the world of railroading. The railroad industry has always centered around the idea of pride in work, and those who continue to reflect that mindset help open the seat up to a new generation.

16-year-old Max was never prepared for this nuanced industry when I took my first job that would lead me down a career path above steel rails. My journey in this industry has been beyond mind-opening and thought-provoking, and I consider myself unbelievably lucky to call my lifelong passion my occupation. Jon and I’s evening stroll ended on us agreeing that though our jobs are often draining and unpredictable, we both feel grateful to be working with historic railroads, and take great pride in doing our jobs to the best of our abilities. It is a privilege to carry on the traditions of the railroaders who came before us, and give others a chance to indulge and appreciate an industry like no other.

Author Max Harris manning the scoop of Nevada Northern 93. Photo by Jenn Fowler.

Welcome back, and thanks for reading. Our first story will publish here in a week’s time, featuring my friend Brian Davies. In the meantime, I’m Max Harris, and I’ll see you all down the line.

Behind the Throttle returns for another chapter. Subscribe and tune in soon for more stories of the fine folks that comprise the railroad industry.

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Chris breaks to bottle on the Chesapeake and Ohio 2716, to christen the beginning of his organization’s restoration. 

With so many figureheads within the world of railroad preservation, it’s easy to get lost in the everlasting ideas and principles that dictate how to run a rail society. While respecting the way of doing things from the past is the stronghold of our initiative as preservationists, it’s also important to understand new ideas and think critically about ways to better perform  the fundamental tasks within a historical rail group. Today, we speak with someone who, rather than being an armchair railroader on the internet, started on his own path with new ideas. Behind the Throttle is proud to feature Chirs Campbell, founder of Kentucky Steam, and someone who isn’t afraid to think outside of the firebox. 

Chris’ story began similarly to most, with him developing an interest in trains as a young boy. Living in Lexington, Kentucky in the early 1980s provided him with a frontrow seat to the famous steam locomotive program hosted by the Southern Railway -later Norfolk Southern. He recalled hearing the distant whistles, then immediately going down to the tracks by his house, where he could often see the Norfolk and Western 611, the Norfolk and Western 1218 or even the Southern 4501 on an excursion. Steam excursions were so common, that even recalled an instance where he walked out of the supermarket one day, and casually saw 611 cruise through town, to which no one gave a second thought (As a young railfan born after the heights of modern steam excursions, this really blew my mind)! However, Chris followed the usual timeline and his interest in trains faded as he grew up and moved onto something new – in his case, baseball. He mentioned that on one of 611’s final trips when he was 16, he chased the trip solo just after receiving his driver’s license, as a sort of swan song to his interest in trains. 

Young Chris is seen here with the Norfolk and Western 611, a crucial part of his childhood passion for steam trains.

Following his time in high school, Chris moved onto college and graduated with a degree in business administration, and got a job working with a construction management firm. Following this,he was financially successful for a number of years, which gave him freedom to explore some of his other interests upon leaving that job. Chris then spent a few years working as a musician, and would play gigs for his main source of income. He then decided to go full circle and landed back at his university where he volunteered coaching their baseball team until he was offered a full time position there. Through all of this, trains remained in the back of his mind. In 2004 Chris visited a friend out in Los Angeles, and by chance had an opportunity to see the Santa Fe 3751 steam locomotive on an excursion run. With a lack of something better to do, Chris took to the road and followed the steam train on its run over Metrolink tracks, and felt a wave of nostalgia as his childhood love flooded back. However, his job provided him with very little time off, so Chris seldom had time to dedicate to this rekindled passion. He made a trek out to Owosso, Michigan in 2009 for the annual Trainfest celebration, where several steam locomotives made appearances, but this opportunity was one of the only chances Chris had to explore the hobby he wanted to get back into. 

Chris managed to find his way into the cab of the ATSF 3751 steam locomotive during his brief visit to California in 2004.

In 2015, a staple of Chris’s childhood was brought back to life following a lengthy restoration. With the 611 fired up, Chris’s passion was ignited with it. He set out to see the Norfolk and Western locomotive for the sake of nostalgia, but was quickly drawn to a new element of steam railroading that he never saw before. As a complete outsider to the world of trains and all of the politics that surrounded mainline trips in that era, Chris looked at the economics and logistics of these trips from an angle that he felt was valuable. After seeing 611 take to the high iron once more, Chris was fired up too. He was ready to get involved. Eager to be the driving force with his own path, he opted to start a new organization where he could try what he thought would work. Rather than focusing solely on trains, Chris wanted to focus on everything around trains: the work that goes into restoration, the effect they had on the history of their homes, and most importantly the community that surrounds the railroad. With this mission in mind, Chris set out to found the Kentucky Steam Heritage Corporation. 

Kentucky Steam Heritage Corporation (KSHC) is Chris’s brainchild that he spent years developing. His goal was to create a new type of preservation society, where trains were embedded into a cultural center that featured other attractions. Once the groundwork was laid, Chris and his team began working to find a home for their idea, and eventually settled on the former CSX Freight Car Shop in Ravenna, Kentucky. It took several years to convince CSX to sell his group the land, but after many emails, lots of diplomacy, and even more patience, in 2018, CSX agreed to sell them the land. KSHC’s main goal at that point was refocused to restore the Chesapeake and Ohio 2716, a 2-8-4 steam locomotive, and use the engine to help revitalize the community and bring some economic development back to the region in the form of tourism. The local communities near the Ravenna-based operation all back this initiative, with many of them having connections to the railroads that brought the region up in the first place. By using the power of trains, Chris hopes to help transform a region in need of new development into a modern tourist destination and a multisensory preservation experience. Chris identified to me how several organizations fail to have a catch factor that attracts an audience beyond train enthusiasts. He hopes to circumvent this with his project by having a music venue, restaurants, a campsite, and more present at the KSHC campus, which will hopefully attract a wide variety of visitors, and potentially influence some to develop an interest in trains. 

Chris riding along in the cab of the Nickel Plate Road 765 in 2018.

Moving forward in the world of historical preservation, Chris hopes to form an adaptable and sustainable method of displaying what the past of railroading looked like. “We have to be mindful of the past but aware of the future,” he explained to me, outlining his group’s hopes of running a steam engine for the foreseeable future. One thing he stressed to me was how preservation groups should be mindful of the current times and adapt so that they can continue to spread the word of history while still being cognizant of modern circumstances: “Be prepared to be adaptable, operate under the parameters of 2021, 2031, and even 2041”. As Chris’s organization continues to gain support and followers, it’s important to note that preservation is a changing game and by following a mission of simply running a train, you limit yourself in the possibilities of your organization. To keep the past alive, think outside the normal parameters and be prepared to make changes. While preservation represents where we’ve been, we must continue to move forward with how to showcase the past. 

Chris (right) with Jason Sobczynski and Jeff Lisowski, in front of the C&O 2716, while it was being moved to the KSHC facility in Ravanna, KY.

Thank you for reading this edition of Behind the Throttle! If you enjoyed this narrative, please join our mailing list to get updates on futures. As always, I am Max Harris, and I’ll see you all down the line.