Anecdotes from Trips with Dad

As I mentioned at the end of my version of The Day I Became a Railfan, I wished I paid more attention, took more notes and photos. Well, ditto for all subsequent trips as they all have become a bit of a blur. I have attempted to jot down some anecdotes here of those subsequent trips.

After dad and my initial trip in 1989 (The Day I Became a Railfan), there was another quick followup trip. We had only been back a few weeks when dad said he regretted missing a couple of east coast train rides. So, mid October, we were headed east again, this time by car. Day one, we drove all the way to Edmundston, NB. Day 2, we boarded the #626 RDC train for Moncton, arriving late morning. It was, I believe, the same RDCs were then scheduled to head for a round trip to Saint John (unknown train number). We boarded and were told that there would be a bustitution from Sussex to Saint John and back due to trackwork. So be it. Still got a hour or two in Saint John, bus and RDC back to Moncton and then #625 RDC (in the dark) back to Edmundston. Day 3 was trip home. Did some rusty railfanning (abandoned Edmundston to Riviere du Loup), stopped in at the Maritime Museum of Quebec and back to Montreal where we visited and stayed thie night with dad's aunt Norma, Day 4 was home.

Other trips become a bit of a blur. Dad and I did try to take an annual or semi annual trip over the coming years, pretty much exclusively in early fall after the tourist season and some deals could be had but touristy places hadn't shut down for season. Some trips can be nailed down due to discontinuance or notable events that occurred. I believe I had about 12 or 13 trips with dad, with maybe 3 or 4 to Gaspe and the rest to Halifax or Moncton, plus two trips east without dad. Without promising anything is in chronological order, here are some anecdotes.

There was a last ride on the Atlantic shortly before it ended (likely 1994). The Atlantic cut across southern Quebec, Maine and NB. My only confirmed memory of that trip was when I invited myself up to the cab of the lead locomotive, a F-40, in Moncton on the way home. My recollection is, with the engine running flat out for HEP, how much the cab shook, like being in one of those weight loss vibrating belts.

Dad and I did an Annapolis Valley trip as well. Took the train to Moncton, rented car, out to the Salem and Hillsborough, Hopewell Rocks, Alma, Fundy Park, Saint John. Dad sent me out for dinner to McDonalds as he wanted a McLobster, which was a standard menu item then in the east. Next day we took the ferry from Saint John to Digby. From there we followed the Annapolis Valley and looked at the scant remnants of the railway that we had ridden in 1989, just a few years before. Stopped in Middleton to look for some family graves and looked at the remaining stations in the Annapolis Valley and toured a railway museum in one of them (Middleton?).

At some point, made our first visit to the Train Station Inn in Tatamagouche. My friend Susan joined us on that one. Dad and Susan took rooms in the station, I got a caboose to myself. After Tatamagouche and back through Truro, headed across country to Windsor and to Kentville before turning south to Lunenburg (Museum of the Atlantic) and Oak Island causeway.

In the mid 90s, mom, dad, Uncle Mike and Aunt Bette all made the trip to Gaspe. We met up in Montreal and boarded the Chaleur. That was my first experience with a Skyline dome to Gaspe as, in our previous trip, it was all blue equipment and a 700 series cafe lounge. We stayed at the new Bakers hotel, had lunch at the Brise Bise, again checked out the remains of Fort Ramsay (Commanders house was still there then and dad and Mike peaked through the windows), toured the Gaspesie Museum, went through Forillon, right around to Cap Rosier, to Perce Rock, etc.

Last Gaspe trip was likely 2000. Train must have been ontime as Dad and I had a couple hours in Gaspe and took a cab to the Legion, got the tour, and the big picture in the stairwell was of my grandfather. Noted that Commanders house at Fort Ramsay was now gone leaving virtually no remnants of the WW2 base. Leaving Gaspe, it was mid November as I learned about F40 traction control, if the wheels start slipping, the engine backs off power until it effectively stalls. As we left Gaspe, near freezing temperatures and fall leaves on the rails, the traction stalled. The train simply couldn't climb hills. Several runs at hills were needed before the rails were clear enough and dry enough to continue. This continued for most of the afternoon and into the evening. When dinner time rolled around we headed for the Skyline diner. Had a good meal and were just hanging out. I think the dinner joke became (with all the runs at hills followed by backing up for another run) to be "Oh, we are in Port Daniel".... Oh, look, Port Daniel again", "Oh, it is Port Daniel again", Yeah... Port Daniel again.." There was a point where we glanced out the the window and saw two youngsters, with focused gaze, each had a firm grip on a stone, locked and loaded. They let those stones fly, shattering the outside pane of of one the Skyline dining car windows. Train screeched to a halt, crew jumped off, no sign of the young offenders. Likely a $2k piece of glass, you brats. As I ended my evening that night, by now 10pm+, the coach was on the rear end and the vestibule on the very tail end. While officially not allowed out there I spent a good hour out there in the cold rain/wet snow, just listening to the clickety clack, smelling the brakes, etc. Every so often, I would see a shadow behind me, just the conductor making sure I hadn't fallen off or anything, never bugged me or gave me grief. Great trip, one of my most favorites.

2002ish? Interesting trip as mom came along. She flew to Halifax and met dad and I there as we took the Ocean. On that trip, we drove to Cape Breton with stops in Tatamagouche, we took a caboose and mom had the cold lobster (she still says the best lobster she ever had) in the dining car at Tatamagouche. Next day, off to Inverness, Bras D'or Lake and Sydney, staying at a hotel that had a view of the harbour with cruise ships and ferries, do recall hanging out with a bunch of people in the hot tub while cooling off with the tunnel slides into the pool. Next day, to Louisbourg and Glace Bay. Took the Bras D'or train back to Halifax. Mom had a blast, certainly recall her sitting in the dome with me sipping wine saying how it was one of her best experiences in life. At Orangedale museum, the train stopped with tours, live entertainment and dancing, Mom was dancing. The next day in Halifax, mom flew back to TO and I was tasked with getting a bottle of scotch for dad for Happy Hour on the ride home on the Ocean. It was a good hike to the nearest liquor store at the downtown mall. (There is now a liquor store right outside the station in Halifax). In the mall I spotted Sue Johannsen (Sex with Sue) just sitting on a bench. Said hello. What is interesting is after we all got home, mom shrieked at dad and I saying it was one of the worst experiences of her life!? I distinctly remember mom and I, in the dome, glass of wine, and mom saying how wonderful this is. Mom will never be a train fan.

One non dad trip east was in the early 2000s. This was with Richard, Lucie, and Americans Jim and Doug. We met up in Montreal. I was really short on money at that point in time and had bought a discount ticket flushed out with some Airmiles. My ticket was for "Sleeper Plus" (at that time, was a coach seat with sleeping car priviledges) but, was told upon boarding, such service had been discontinued a few weeks before and, despite what my ticket said, I was simply in coach. My travel mates were all in sleeper including Marc, who also only had a coach ticket (Marc rode out to St Hyancinth so he could get back to Montreal that night). Richard came up to coach to invite me back when we were stopped by Service Manager Vince, who said I was not allowed back in the sleeper cars. I appealed my case saying I should have had Sleeper Plus status but to no avail. Another attempt to join my friends was caught by Vince who threatened to have me thrown off the train. Finally, about 10 pm, long after cocktails, dinner or any other common courtesy, I was summoned to Vince's office. He spent a long time explaining how awful his job was, how awful his day was... he reviewed my ticket, admitted there was a mistake, sold me a rommette upgrade and allowed me to rejoin my friends. HOLY SHIT. I wasn't going anywhere, doing anything weird. He could have said - hang out with you friends, I know where to find you. WOW!! Big shift on that story was a few hours later we were all sitting in the Park Car. You are not allowed to bring personal booze into public spaces but I filled my clear water bottle with Southern Comfort (pretty obvious) and we were sitting in the Park Lounge. A guy comes up up to me and says "I hear you had an issue with your ticket". I tell him the story, while taking sips of my obviously not water, he listens, says nothing about that, then says, "when are you coming back"? I tell him, he says he is a VIA executive and not to worry about my trip home. As far as the trip goes, we arrived in Moncton, rented a car. I had booked the group tickets for the Salem and Hillborough for their Thanksgiving Dinner Train. They had equipment issues, mostly caused by clueless volunteers, and the train left late, pretty much after dark. I think a key indicator was when Richard asked, after many failed brake tests was, "when did you last do a COT&S?" to which the reply was "what is that?" (Basic brake service and test, btw). My other recollection was the lounge cars had been set up with lengthwise seating down both sides, like a doctors waiting room, everybody uncomfortably waiting, no groupings or talking. After awhile, we were called for dinner, Still don't think train had left station at at that point. After the train ride, it was a late night dash to Tatamagouche where Jimmie had thankfully pre-assigned us rooms. I got the box car, or half box car (box car Jimmie), my favourite room thus far at Tatamagouche. A derailment in Northern NB meant we were detoured up the National Transcontinental line, hadn't done that since the Edmudnston RDC in 1989. The VIA executive had kept his word and I got a free upgrade to a roomette on the way home.

2004 trip is one I can nail and only because it was the week Christopher Reeve died (now idea why that is relevant). Dad started in Toronto and I joined him in Belleville as I moved to Tweed in the spring of 2004. Dad and I went to Moncton. We went down to the Salem and Hillsborough, hung out with Art Clowes a bit, went up to Richibucto and some rusty railfanning. I wanted to go to Kouchibouguac National Park, which we did and did the dunes and raised bog walks. I believe we headed back to a S&H dinner that night before taking the train home the next day.

The 2005 trip is another one I can nail. It was the last trip dad and I took. At the time I was working in Peterborough and I joined dad on the train in Cobourg. We travelled through to Halifax, stayed the night and, after renting a car, headed east through Dartmouth and beyond. We stopped at the Musquoidoboit railway museum, on to Sherbrooke (at a point I stopped and bought a used lobster trap for $25), toured Sherbrooke, up to Stellarton and museum. We continued on to Tatamagouche for the night and then back to Halifax the next day for the trip home. My lobster trap got checked in the baggage car and got transferred in Montreal and made it back to Cobourg.

Oak Island. Has always been a special place for me since reading that Readers Digest story back in the mid 60s. I likely read it in the late 60s at my doctor's office, waiting for my weekly allergy shot. Anyway, since the late 60s, always wanted to go to Oak Island. Not sure when I first got there. While, dad and my first trip down east was 1989, schedule would not have allowed it. Subsequent years are more vague leading me to assume my first visit was in 90 or 91. Those trips are ill-defined in memory. We did rent a car in Halifax and did Peggy's Cove, Chester, Oak Island (just to the causeway) and Lunenbourg. There were dinners at McKelvies, visiting the amazing Sam the Record Man, the Public Gardens, Historic Properties, Keith's Brewery and Tatamagouche,

On one of the trips, we were sitting our opposite roomettes and during cocktails there was a crew procession headendwards moving at blur speed. Then the train came to a stop. It was likely hour or two before the train moved again and, from talking to the crew, we got what happened. Apparently, various pets had been booked into the baggage car. A Pit Bull dog chewed its way out of its cage and and killed a cat in a neighbouring cage. It was working on the another cat cage when the crew noticed and took action. (this incident made the papers). I feel horrible for the deceased cats owner. My brother's cat was a VIA regular (in the baggage car) from Toronto to Belleville with never a problem.

Last trip was in Feb 2008 and went with friend Kristen. We left from Belleville, to Montreal and Ocean to Halifax. One funny moment was walking up to the check in counter at Central Station, Service Manager was Kenny Kearns and when he saw me, said "Hello Lesley, where are you off to this time?" Kristen freaked saying, "Oh my god they all really do know you!" Went down on HEP equipment and back on Rennaissance. Rented a car in Halifax and did Peggy's Cove, Oak Island causeway and Lunenburg. We hit at least 3 pubs a night in Halifax over our two nights there. It was quite the party.

 Buying and Moving 1143 Equity

How does one buy a railway car? Here is my story. It starts with my cousin's wedding in Ottawa in 1993. After the wedding, there was an afternoon get-together on the following day which left me a free morning in Ottawa. I decided to go to the Museum of Science and Technology and discovered it was an Open House day which included walkthroughs of the Governer General's railway cars. The cars were laid out like a small home with living room, kitchen, dining room, bedrooms and bathroom. What a neat cottage these would make, I thought.

Driving home from Ottawa, I purposely followed Hwy 7 to see what the area looked like. Paul and I were already on the look out for property and land seemed unusually cheap in the Tweed and Madoc area. By the spring of 1994, we were making drives out to the Tweed/Madoc area to look at lots for sale and picked 8-1/2 acres on Hwy 7 on the Skootamatta River. That first summer was spent clearing a path in and exploring the lot.

During the summer of 1994, while working at Print Plus in Etobicoke, a customer came in and said he needed business cards in a hurry. His title had changed and had a big meeting the following day. I noted he was from VIA's Toronto Maintenance Centre. I asked him, "I know VIA has a lot of surplus equipment, how does one buy a rail car?" He gave me the number of his boss at TMC who told me I had to call Montreal Head Office and speak to Ralph Lunn. Spoke to Ralph who asked for my fax number and a few minutes later, a fax listing all the cars for sale, location and suggested price. I reviewed the list and called Ralph back about taking a look at the cars. My first stop was TMC. Very informal, they pointed out the long rows of coupled cars stretching from Islington to almost Royal York and left me alone to explore. Their condition was shocking. Vandals had got in and just smashed whatever could be smashed. Working my way down through the cars, got to the end and found an exception, #2025 Glace Bay, a 10 roomette, 6 bedroom sleeper. It was in perfect condition and appeared to have been recently renovated with carpeted walls and a neutral colour scheme.

I contacted Ralph about Glace Bay and was informed that the body was for sale but not the trucks. Not knowing anything about truck swapping I passed on Glace Bay. (Unfortnately, the pristine and recently renovated Glace Bay was moved to Montreal, knocked off its trucks and then torn apart by an excavator with a shear attachment.) Not giving up on the railway car idea, I asked Ralph about coming to Montreal. Ralph and I met at MMC and we toured the cars. Condition was much better in Montreal and I picked #1143 Equity. It was listed at $8000 on Ralph's sheet. Ralph said just make a reasonable offer. I said $4000 and Ralph said sure.

Now what do I do with it? I asked when I had to move it and was told ASAP but not a panic. Managed to stretch that out almost two years! Eventually, VIA insisted that it be moved. By then I had made enough contacts in the hobby to know some options and had it moved to Soulange Industries in Les Cedres, Quebec, a "we store anything place" in early summer of 1996. In July, Paul and I went to Soulange and put a couple of days of work in on it (wasn't allowed to work on it at MMC) doing things like patching a roof air intake, changing out a broken window, a good vacuum and unloaded a bunch of parts and materials that we acquired for the car.

By the summer of 1996, had already found a mover who said he would do it, Murray Wilson from C&T Structural Movers in Port Elgin Ontario. I was also involved with the Halton County Radial Railway and they were wanting a sleeping car to use as a dormitory for the volunteers and helped them make a deal for 9482 of which Murray was moving too. With 9482, it came by rail from Montreal to Acton and Murray moved it to the museum site in Dec 1996. I watched the whole experience closely as my turn was coming up in February. Also by the summer of 1996, we had cleared and built the driveway, the trackbed and a path in for Equity.

Murray gave me the date he set aside for me, I had to make sure Equity was in Belleville. Then things went south. Before CN would move the car from Les Cedres, it had to have a brake inspection. The inspection came back "failed - no handbrake". I raced from Toronto to Les Cedres, calling railway equipment repair people on the way. Richard Longpre, who Ralph had introduced me too had been selling me parts needed for Equity and he kindly met me at Les Cedres. Richard climbed up in the vestibule end where a sign said in both English and French "Handbrake at other end of car", climbed down, went to the other end and cranked on the handbrake. Now I had to yip at CN about dragging me down there for nothing. The agent at CN said that a dozen freights pass Les Cedres a day and any of them can pick up Equity. Then called back and said that only the Coteau switcher picks up there and that would have to be arranged and then transferred to a Belleville freight. The result of this was Murray and his crew arrived in Belleville and Equity was still in Quebec.

Murray rescheduled for about a week later and Equity arrived in Belleville, vandalized. An end door glass panel had been smashed and many small items taken - cup dispensers, ash trays, coat hooks and other VIA material that had been left in the car. Unfortuately, likely a rail fan.

Despite being late February, it felt like spring. Equity was moved onto one of the Y tracks leading to the old Cambellford Sub. Murray used hydraulic jacks to lift the body off the trucks, rolled the trucks out of the way, put a steerable dolly under one end and the other end of Equity on his trailer. The next morning we were off up Hwy 62 as the Hwy 37 bridge was being rebuilt in Tweed. Up through Madoc, along Hwy 7 and into my neighbour's parking lot (Log Cabin Restaurant). Murray removed his trailer and put another steerable dolly in it's place and using his back hoe and a large forklift eased Equity down the path from the Log Cabin to our driveway, a 90 degree turn and over the track bed. We had not put rails down as Murray said he would prefer not having them as a obstacle. Murray left Equity sitting about 4 or 5 feet off the ground on blocks. Murray returned to Belleville and loaded the trucks and they were dragged down and left beside Equity.

Paul and I went back out about a week later and winter had returned. We sat shivering in Equity for a while sharing a bottle of champagne Paul surprised me with. When spring came, trackwork began. I had already sourced some rail, about 600 feet with joint bars, bolts, tieplates and spikes. We started laying track at the end of the trackbed about 120 feet passed where Equity was sitting. I had made a deal with CN for railway ties from a pile in Cobourg. A Friday night ritual became stopping in Cobourg, sorting through the tie pile, selecting about 7 decent ones, loading them in my truck and continuing onto Actinolite. Saturday would be unload, place and spike. At this rate it was mid summer when we reached Equity and another couple of months to lay track under Equity. And we were ballasting the track too, by shovel and wheelbarrow. By November 1997, about 230 feet of track was down, gauged, spiked, ballasted and it was time to put the trucks back under Equity. Murray was back with his back hoe and with a combination of lifting, tugging and pushing got the trucks on the track, rolled underneath, Equity lowered and the blocking removed. The plan was to roll Equity about one car length down the track and Dad wanted to ride this event. Dad showed up, found a seat he liked, Murray pushed with his backhoe and I was on the handbrake.

It was late April or early May when I first stayed overnight in Equity. In the spring of 1997, had Hydro service brought onto the property and had two runs of four 100ft extension cords running to Equity. That gave us light, coffee, a fan and a heater onboard Equity and it was quite comfortable. And we often had guests with my father and my brother becoming regulars. But something was bugging me, Equity looked lonely, railway cars usually come as a train of cars...

 

The Day I Became a Railfan by Lesley Bernard

This is a companion piece to one written by my father, Julian Bernard, published in Branchline, October 1997 regarding his experience in 1943. Now, I should say I was never not a rail fan, as I had grown up with it and never experienced the "epiphany" that dad had (as described in his story) it was just something we did. And, as time went by, it became apparent, to my father, that I appreciated these experiences of the 'journey' vs my brothers, who were more like my mother with traveling should be more about the destination and the shortest, fastest route to that destination and tended to like flights to the Caribbean.

Most of my early rail experiences are just fleeting flashes of memory - including trips to visit my grandparents in Toronto (eg overnite train from Ottawa to Toronto via Canadian Northern route), opportunistic rides (eg Paisley to Southampton RDC) while cottaging in Southampton, and excursions accompanying my father (eg La Malbaie). However, one trip really stood out, for not only the meticulous planning by my father, but also the fact that most of that trip can no longer be done and most of the equipment we rode is gone for scrap. It was on that trip that I grasped the history, fleeting opportunity, and tenuous attitude towards passenger rail in this country. Maybe that was my "epiphany". With the proposed Jan 1990 VIA cuts looming, dad said this was a now or never experience.

This was the first of what would become many east coast trips with dad up until he could no longer cope and featured innovations (at least for me) as the mandatory dome experience crossing the St, Lawrence on Victoria Bridge (his favourite bridge), followed by sharing Happy Hour in our opposite roomettes (to the sometimes befuddlement and bemusement of our passing fellow passengers and crew as we passed ice tubs and snacks across the aisle), followed by dinner in the dining car.

It started on a Saturday in mid September 1989. We boarded the midday train #64 "Meridian" in Toronto to Montreal and connected with #12 "Atlantic" in Montreal. Crossing Maine during the night, Sunday morning brought New Brunswick and Saint John, then Moncton, with a mid afternoon arrival in Halifax. A quick connection was made to the RDC #151 "Evangeline" to Yarmouth arriving early evening. We overnighted in Yarmouth and returned to Halifax Monday morning on #152 "Evangeline". The run was lightly patronized. Upon returning to Halifax, we checked into the Nova Scotian Hotel adjacent to the station and set out to explore Halifax browsing the then excellent Sam the the Record Man store, the Public Gardens, Citadel and much more followed by dinner at McKelvie's.

Tuesday morning featured a bus tour of Halifax and Dartmouth and a midday departure on the RDCs #604 to Sydney. A much busier run than Yarmouth and we overnighted in Sydney. Wednesday was a return trip from Sydney on #605 to Truro and connected with the north/west bound #11 " Atlantic". After settling in our coach seats we sought out lunch in the dining car. The custom of the day was to seat people with strangers to maximize table usage and we were seated with then NDP leader Alexa McDonough and NDP Transport Critic Iain Angus who were traveling in protest of the impending VIA cuts. Conversation through lunch was exclusively about VIA and the cuts.

In Moncton, we connected with #15 "Ocean", which only went as far as Moncton at that time, and continued north to Matapedia. It was a short night in Matapedia as we had to arise around 4 am Thursday morning for our connection #16 "Chaleur" to Gaspe. From here on, we were retracing dad's 1940s trips and his story, also his first train ride to Gaspe since then. From my coach seat, I dozed a fair bit but recall a grounded ship, slowly being torn apart. In Gaspe, we rented a car and explored Gaspe and the remnants of Fort Ramsay, the WW2 base my grandfather commanded and Perce Rock. We overnighted in Gaspe and headed for home Friday on #17 "Chaleur".

The incoming Chaleur arrived and I quickly noted there was no sleeping car. Upon boarding, the service manager said the sleeping car had been bad ordered on the outbound trip but assured us a spare was being brought up from Moncton on the connecting Ocean. The Ocean and Chaleur were combined between Matapedia and Montreal. So, it was coach seats for us to Matapedia and we had cocktails in the bar section of the 700 series cafe-lounge car. In Matapedia, #15 "Ocean" arrived shortly after we did with a Green series sleeper for us as promised. Another delightful sonic experience I discovered about Matapedia, is the sounds of the train horns, something dad had told me to listen out for. An enormous rock face looms over the town and, when switching, the train horns echo off the rock face and up and down the valley. Now well after 10 pm, I settled into my roomette bed, with a full moon and the blind up, it was almost as a bright as daytime following the Matapedia River valley. I drifted off to sleep but awoke momentarily in Levis with a view of the Chateau Frontenac and Quebec city. Connection again in Montreal and back in Toronto by midafteroon Saturday on #63 "La Salle".

7 days, 5725 km/3558 miles, 11 trains. Since then, the Atlantic, trains to Yarmouth and Sydney and the Chaleur are gone. Along with the old F units, Cafe-lounge cars, Green sleepers and most of the rest of the blue fleet. Now, looking back on it, I wish I paid more attention to details, made notes, took more pictures.

The Day I Became a Railfan by Julian Bernard, published in Branchline, Oct, 1997

Memories of some of the events surrounding a 1943 collision on Canadian National's Montmagny subdivison have recently been revived by the receipt from Art Clowes of a number of contemporary newspaper articles, along with a report of the event written by George Horner which appeared in the October 1964 Upper Canada Railway Society Newsletter. While I was not involved in the accident, it did have an impact on the journey being taken at the same time with my mother and brother.

On the morning of Tuesday, July 6, 1943, the three of us, along with Duke, our dog, left Toronto for what was planned to be a 34-hour journey to Gaspe, Quebec. A few months earlier my father had been transferred to the naval base in Gaspe, H.M.C.S. Fort Ramsay, and we were to spend the summer at Baker's Hotel in the town until it was time to return to school. I was looking forward to the journey with some degree of anticipation because it was to be my first opportunity to travel in a sleeping car. A double bedroom and been reserved; in the excitement, I had not even been especially concerned that I was expected to share a berth with my younger, ten year old brother. While I had traveled several times by train, I had until then viewed the experience simply as a means of transportation and it had not yet occurred to me that trains could hold some special fascination.

Our journey began on #14, "The International Limited", which left Toronto at 9:15 a.m. Arrival in Montreal at Bonaventure Station, from which all but suburban traffic would be transferred a few days later to the newly completed Central Station, was more or less on time. Recollections of my last look at this Victorian relic are of a dark, somewhat gloomy, but impressive building bursting with activity as people moved hurriedly in all directions. #4, "The Ocean Limited", was scheduled to depart at 7:30 p.m. No coach passengers could ride the train - it carried sleeping cars and a dining car, only. When it came time to board, the congestion which had led to the rushed completion of Central Station after a decade of depression-induced inactivity became all too apparent. Another train was trapped at the inner end of a stub ended track and #4 was backed in beyond it, leaving many of its forward cars well beyond the end of the platform. We found our assigned bedroom and departure soon followed. #4 struggled around the sharp curve at St. Henri and headed for Victoria Bridge, still to this day my favourite rail bridge. As we were settling in to enjoy ourselves, the conductor came by to lift our tickets - and to tell us that we would have to leave the train at Drummondville!

At 3:18 that afternoon there had been a violent, head-on collision on a bridge just over half a mile east of the station at Montmagny. CN's #1, the "Maritime Express", hauled by 4-8-4 6166, was westbound to Montreal with 15 cars, almost 3 hours late. Fourth class eastward freight #702, with sister 6167 and 42 cars, had left St. Charles, it's engineer under the impression that #1 was on time and had passed that point. Both trains were operating at high speed on a tangent track with good visibility in both directions. The engineer on #1 has seen the oncoming train, applied the brakes and was almost stopped. Brakes on #702 were not applied until moments before the impact. Both locomotives and tenders were derailed as were the first two cars of #1, while about half of the freight consist was derailed. The engineer of #702 died in the cab of 6167. Surprisingly, injuries among the remainder of the crews and passengers were relatively few and minor. In the expectation that about 48 hours would be needed to re-open the line, it was decided to divert most traffic over the former National Transcontinental through Monk and Edmundston. This meant alternative arrangements had to be made for all passengers destined for points east of Levis and west of Moncton.

"The Ocean Limited", which was among those to be diverted, was scheduled to be followed 30 minutes later by #60, "The Scotian", which was to take the normal route and which arrived at Drummondville, where we had been deposited, over one hour late. It was crowded and all the bedrooms were occupied, but a member of the crew found us a reasonably comfortable place to sit - the men's smoking lounge in a sleeping car. The well worn leather seats were slippery but I viewed it optimistically as an opportunity to stay up all night. Our eastward progress was in fits and starts with what seemed like an especially long stop at Levis where I saw for the first time the lights of Quebec's upper and lower towns.

About 9 a.m. the next day we arrived in Montmagny, now about seven hours behind schedule. The sound of the collision had quickly brought out the army from a nearby camp and what greeted us at Montmagny was the sight of what seemed to be a well organized two-way transfer, using military trucks and buses, of the passengers from #60 and another train, probably #59, which had been brought up to a road crossing east of the bridge. As we passed by the accident site, we could see that most rolling stock had been re-railed and removed but the two locomotives remained locked together on the bridge and considerable debris could be seen in the water below. By this time we were becoming worried about Duke who we had not seen since he joined us at Drummondville the evening before but we were assured that he was having a great time riding around on the front seat of one of the military's trucks. The transfer took about seven hours and by 4 p.m. our eastward journey resumed. We had open section seats in a sleeping car and were now 14 hours behind schedule. At 10 p.m. we arrived in Matapedia and obtained a room at the old Hotel Restigouche, now a seniors' building adjacent to the newer hotel and directly across the tracks from the station.

The next morning, Thursday, July 8, saw us ready to board #36, known not entirely unaffectionately by the service personnel as "The Bullet". Unfortunately, so were a lot of other people. The conductor understandably ruled that only those with tickets for that day's train would be allowed to ride in car #84, a buffet sleeping car being used as a parlor car so we were out of luck again. Three sections were set up with tables and one busy crew member was parlor car steward, waiter and cook in the tiny galley. Normal consist of #36 was two head end cars, two coaches and the buffet parlor (or sleeping) car hauled by one of CN's attractive little ten-wheelers. However, it was apparent long before the scheduled 10:15 a.m. departure time that there were twice as many passengers as there were seats and something had to be done about it. There was, of course, still no eastbound traffic other than the train on which we had arrived the night before but westbound main line traffic was starting to move over the normal route in anticipation of the clearance of the accident site, 253 miles to the west, later in the day. While my mother worried about her dwindling cash resources (no credit cards in those days), Duke and I took up a seat on a bench at the north end of the platform where I watched happily and with growing fascination the parade of activity going on around us. #36 stood on it's track behind the station. From the direction of Campbellton to the south (or east to use the railway's parlance) appeared another ten-wheeler and two more baggage cars. Several westbound trains arrived, all well off schedule, and one main line coach was detached from each of three of them after the passengers occupying the chosen cars had been herded to others on the train. Gradually "The Bullet" grew until, by 4 p.m., it was ready to leave with two locomotives, four head end cars, five coaches and the buffet sleeper bringing up the rear. Fortunately I had paper and pencil with me because at some point during the day I decided it would be a good idea to write down the locomotive numbers, not knowing that millions of 14 year olds all over the world had been doing the same thing, probably for a century. The notes I made have long since disappeared but I do recall that 1134 was the first on the list and presumably it was one of the two locomotives on the head end when we left Matapedia that Thursday afternoon. It also explains why a photograph of it taken by Kenneth MacDonald nine years later in Moncton hangs over my desk. I like to think that 1134 was the cause of my personal epiphany.

With a jolt we started down the somewhat shaky Cascapedia sub-division which quickly curved to the left leaving Matapedia and the heavy main line rail behind. Within a few miles the waters of the Bay of Chaleur came into view and, as the New Brunswick coastline gradually receded, it was becoming increasingly apparent that double-heading was not an art that had been pursued too often on the Gaspe branch. It was probably also apparent that, unless the jolting stops and starts ceased, somebody could be injured or something would be broken. Accordingly, possibly at Carleton, the train was divided into two sections - first #36 took the four head end cars while second #36 consisted of the six passenger cars. By this time it was also becoming apparent that the ice was exhausted in the bunkers of the three main line coaches so there was no longer any air conditioning and, of course, the windows could not be opened. Air conditioning was unknown on the branch so there was no ice supply either. The problem was solved to some extent by opening the end doors and the upper half of the dutch doors but we found seats in one of the older coaches where open windows solved the ventilation problem and simultaneously furnished all the smells and sounds of steam era railroading.

A pair of naval policemen constantly patrolled the length of the train. As dusk fell, vestibule lights were extinguished and blinds were drawn on the seaward side as German submarine activity had been frequent all around the peninsula for about two years and there were some fears that the train could become a moving target. From then on, the journey was uneventful. About 2 a.m. we passed Sandy Beach where a small station had been built the year before to serve the naval base and, a few minutes later, came to halt at Gaspe, the end of the line, about 30 hours late. First #36, with Duke on board, had made few stops and had arrived about 2 hours earlier.

Since then I have ridden the branch several times. "The Bullet" has evolved through many incarnations into VIA Rail's "Chaleur". The buffet sleeping cars which had been pressed into parlor car service were replaced a few months later by the ex-Canadian Northern cafe parlor cars "Mistaya" and "Tawatinaw" which remained fixtures on the branch for many years. Eventually the old equipment gave way for a time to Budd RDCs and, today, fully standardized as are most VIA trains, the "Chaleur" provides what is probably the best service the branch has ever seen, albeit now only three times a week, but the train remains under what seems like almost constant threat of termination.

Little remains of the naval base but much of the spur into it is in place and is used to wye the VIA trains. The branch still offers a great rides but, in my mind, nothing will quite match the excitement of that introduction to it over 50 years ago.