AS I WANDERED #11 BROWN’S LANDING

Tags

Adirondacks, batak, Brown's Landing, Florida, gator, Jacksonville, Palatka, Poconos, Rice Creek, Scranton, St. John's River, Steamboat

Yes it is true. The train ride from Scranton, Pennsylvania to Jacksonville, Florida was rather boring; especially the last hundred miles. It was either swamp in Georgia or pine flats in Florida.

But then we got to Jacksonville. By ‘we’ I mean all three of us – – – Jimmy McFee from Tennessee, Bogdan Yelcovich from eastern Europe and me.

I would have told you which country Bogdan is from but with all the wars and border changes over there I am not too sure he knows where he is from himself. Sometimes he says Ukraine then other times he says Austria and still other times he says Russia.

Anyway, we ended up in Jacksonville with plans to get on to Palatka via the St. John’s River and Rice Creek. Our final destination would be “Brown’s Landing.” Someone had told Bogdan that Browns Landing was going to be the next big city in Florida. He had heard it was an interesting area with great bargains in land purchases. I can now see why there are bargains; there is nothing here.

The people there are dirt poor; for the most part. Sometimes there are tourists and land buyers – – – like Bogdan, Jim and I – – – that show up from time to time.

And then there were the sports that had already left way too many footprints in the Pocono and Adirondack Mountains.

Nice ‘gator there! I bet the guy holding it is the guide.

I think that the lady in the boat must have gotten the vapors – – – probably because it was her husband who shot the poor little thing.

Bogdan, Jim and I decided that hacking a clearing out of this wilderness – – – especially with all the mosquitoes, snakes and monster spiders – – – was not something that was in our best interest. So we took this steamer back to Jacksonville and a train back to Scranton.

On the way we met a very interesting gentleman.

The boatman said the cabin owner would make us a great lunch from greens he finds in the wilderness. It was a delicious meal and none of us got sick.

Take a look at the clever dog house he made. Mostly small branches. Keeps the panthers away but not the insects.

Poor dog!

 

©W. Tomosky♠

AS I WANDERED #10 KNOXVILLE TENNESSEE

Tags

Gay Street, George Washington Harris, Knoxville, Knoxville RR Station, Masons, Scranton, Sut Lovingood, Tennesee

I had made another friend while plying my trade as “Railroad Detective” in Scranton. His name was Jim McFee. Don’t ever call him Jimmy-John or Jim-Bob; you may have a fight on your hands.

I learned the hard way.

Jim was a good old boy from Tennessee. When I say “good old boy” I don’t mean it in a pejorative manner. I mean he was just a good guy.

Except for his accent. When we first met I could not understand a word he said. I thought Bogdan Yelcovich had a bad accent – – – you should have heard Jim’s. At first I could not figure out if he was from a foreign country or if he had a speech impediment.

It was neither – – – he was from Tennessee.  

But once I got to understand him I found out that he was quite an interesting fellow.

He had a lot of country sayings and phrases that would make me laugh. For instance he, in jest – – – well I hope it was jest – – -, referred to me as “that wally-eyed guy.” One day it was so cold I was shaking. Jim asked me why I was shaking “like a dog trying to pass a peach seed.”

Another time he told me he lives “30 stones” from Knoxville proper. I asked him how far that is. He said “well, you just throw a stone and then walk up to where it landed. Then you pick it up and throw it again – – – and so on and so forth for 30 times.

One day he had arranged a free caboose ride from Scranton to Knoxville and asked me to join him. He said I would enjoy seeing such a place.

He was right on that account.

We arrived at one of the nicest railway stations that I had ever seen. Then he told me I just had to visit Gay Street. Hell, I agreed, this was just a nice tour for me. So off we went to Gay Street.

It had recently been bricked and had trolley tracks running every-which-way. Of course the “road apples” from the horses were everywhere.

There was a lot of construction going on in Knoxville also.

Apparently a lot of authors liked to write about Gay Street; authors such as George Washington Harris. I walked around Gay Street and asked questions. I seem to do that a lot – – – ask questions. The people told me about their favorite author and what he wrote about.

This Sut Lovingood character was a trouble-maker – – – but a lovable one. For instance he wanted to know what went on within the secret sessions of the Free-Masons. So he hid in the attic and listened.

I think I know why Jim speaks the way he does. Possibly he read too many stories about “Sut Lovingood.”

©W. Tomosky♠

AS I WANDERED #9 PUERTO RICO

Tags

Borinquen, Caribbean, Jibaro, Louisa Aldea, people, Puerto Rico, Santiago Apostal, Scranton, Sea shore, Vijigantes

There was a load of coal headed up and down the gravity railroad. Then it was to be loaded on to barges for the canal heading to Kingston, New York. One of the fellows on the railroad told me the coal was destined for a coal tender headed to Puerto Rico.

Of course I wondered “Why Puerto Rico? It isn’t cold there and they must have plenty of wood and sugar cane remnants for any industrial fires they need to burn.”

So I asked Bogdan Yelcovich if he knew what the coal was for.

“Haven’t you heard?” he said. “We are going to have a war with Spain. We are sending ships to Cuba and Puerto Rico to carry the troops, their horses and canons. They will need plenty of coal to keep the engines turning on all those troop ships.”

I told him I had no idea what was going on in the Caribbean.

“Or the South Sea” he responded.

“You mean the Southern Pacific Ocean?” I asked.

“No, no, no. I mean the Caribbean. It was once referred too as the South Sea” said Bogdan.

Well, if Bogdan said something then you knew it was true. He never lied and always seemed to know things. Of course – – – out came one of his favorite monthly newsprint magazines.

And so the war was engaged; and we won Puerto Rico without a fight – – – not like in Cuba.

The Puerto Rican people had been promised their freedom from Spain in 1896. Maybe Spain saw the handwriting on the wall.

~

And because I can see the past and the future, I was able to see Puerto Rico after the war and fifty years later.

No much had changed in those fifty years. The people remained poor and proud.

The Jibaros (country folk) still loved their music; a mixture of Spanish and Arabic with a touch of Gypsy laments.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=vwnRkCNm1tI

The easy going mixture of Spanish, Yoruban, and Native Taino cultures still exists in the community called Louisa Aldea.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPCnx-GXs4M

So why wouldn’t my heart be captured by such a place?

 

©W. Tomosky♠

AS I WANDERED #8 ASHER BROWN DURAND

Tags

American Scenery, art, Asher Brown Durand, Engraving, Kindered Spirits, Maplewood, New Jersey, Painting, Pennsylvania, Scranton, The Beeches, The Hunter, The Trysting Tree

That damn Bogdan Yelcovich is at it again. This time trying to get me interested in art.

There is no way – – – not for me – – – not with gunpowder and fishing worm guts under my fingernails.

Look what he is showing me today. Can you believe it?

So I tell him “Nice, Bogdan, but what am I supposed to do with a pretty magazine cover?

He responds “It isn’t the cover I want you to look at; it is what is inside.”

Well I gave in and told him I would look at his foolish magazine.

He opened it up and showed me this.

“Asher Brown Durand? What would I know about Asher Brown Durand?” I asked Bogdan.

He answered “Once I show you I don’t think you will ever forget him.”

“Take me to him then” I demanded.

“OK” Bogdan said; “Next week we will bum a ride on the train to Maplewood, New Jersey.”

So Bogdan took me to Asher’s home.

Mr. Durand was kind enough to show me the following artwork.

AMERICAN SCENERY

THE TRYSTING TREE

KINDERED SPIRITS – 1849

THE HUNTER – 1846

THE BEECHES – 1845

Bogdan was right. I don’t think I will ever forget Asher Brown Durand.

Not only was he a great artist but he was also as humble as apple pie. I asked Bogdan if he knew why such a great artist was so humble. Bogdan said that Asher had grown up with a large number of brothers and sisters; that may have had something to do with it.

~

Durand was born in New Jersey. His father was a watchmaker and a silversmith.

He served an apprenticeship in engraving. The owner of the firm offered him a partnership. Asher accepted and managed the firm’s New York branch.

He helped organize the National Academy of Design were he served the organization as president for a number of years.

His interest shifted from engraving to oil painting. He spent summers sketching in the Catskills, Adirondacks, and New Hampshire’s White Mountains.

~

As I said before, that Bogdan Yelcovich sure knew things – – – and famous people.

I began to wonder if I really knew who this Bogdan Yelcovich really was.

©W. Tomosky♠

AS I WANDERED #7 COUNTRY ROADS

Tags

dug road, for whom the bell tolls, mind over matter, Pennsylvania, philosophy, roads, Scranton, stillwater road

 

I have no idea why. So don’t ask me.

I love country roads; especially if there is no one else on them. Maybe it is the solitude.

Solitude may have been my downfall. I was supposed to be in charge of a bunch of people. It was like the complaint department in a dry-goods store – – – but one hundred times that. It was a new enterprise in the Industrial Revolution.

So every time I had a chance at solitude – – – I took it. And they caught me. So through MUTUAL AGREEMENT, I departed.

They sent me to one of those head-measurers before I left the organization; “Phrenologyist” I think they called him.

He told me I should be farming in dirt instead of working in industry; “Dichotomies of the Mind” was what he called my condition. But still – – – I loved solitude and country roads.

Such as this one that lead to nowhere.

Or the following one which mimed my turbulent thoughts – – – without resolution.

Or sometimes a decision was necessary; in which case I would sit by the side of the road until an answer came to me.

And then every once in a while an entrance to a farmstead would yield someone to talk to – – – even if it was a horse or a cow.

Anyhow – – – they seemed to understand me better.

So there – – – I have confessed. But still there remains  – – – the Stillwater road.

©W. Tomosky♠

AS I WANDERED #6 SPRINGFIELD ARMORY

Tags

gunsmith, J. Albright Jr., Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania Long Rifle, Rifle, rifled barrels, Scranton, Springfield Armory

Boy oh boy, does that Bugdon Yelcovich know everything? I am beginning to wonder about him.

Yesterday we were talking about the best rifles to hunt deer and squirrels with. The Pennsylvania Long Rifle was the most discussed.

It is a beautifully made rife. Originated in Lancaster County but Bethlehem has a competing model.

Today Bogdan handed me an old newsprint magazine.

This is what it said about the armory in Springfield, Massachusetts. 

They make the Springfield Rifled Musket.

This Harper’s Magazine had much more to say than these few woodcuts show. Maybe we can talk more about it sometime in the future.

Bogdan Yelcovich and I entered into a long “discussion” about which was better; the Pennsylvania Long Rifle or the Springfield “rifled” musket. 

Bogdan invited me to the next Pennsylvania Militia target exercise. He was right. The Springfield Rifled Military Rifle was more accurate – – – consistently.

©W. Tomosky♠

AS I WANDERED #5 RAILROAD STATIONS

Tags

Bronx, Mount Vernon, Newark, Old Railroad Station, Pennsylvania, Scranton, Tenefly

 

I know, I know, I know. Too much railroad stuff. Please be patient we will get to other things. Then again – – – what would you expect of a guy who rides the rails?

All I have in mind today is to show you some of the unique railroad stations that I have passed by. That’s it, nice and simple.

©W. Tomosky♠

AS I WANDERED #4 GRAVITY RAILROADS

Tags

D&H, Hawley, Hudson River, Katskill, Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania Coal Company, Scranton, Shawgunk

So there I was, working as a railroad detective (not much detecting – – – more like nabbing hobos and bums hanging around the tracks) in Scranton. It was a far cry from my life of the tenements in New York City. New York may have been the calling card for immigrants but it turned out to be the death of many of them.

So far I had seen the magnificent rail yards and how they worked; the precise queuing up of tankers and coal hoppers and passenger cars and extra engines. The yardmasters were geniuses far ahead of their times.

Then I heard about the Starucca Viaduct and bummed a ride to Susquehanna, Pennsylvania just to see that magnificent structure. It really was one of the wonders of the world.

Everyone had tales of this and that. It was Bugdon Yelcovich who told me about the glacial pothole in Archibald. I could not believe it until I saw it with my own eyes.

And now everyone is wondering about the gravity railroads and how much longer they have before the canals wipe them out.

These gravity railroads run on a few different principals.

For example the simple ones carry cars loaded with coal down from the heights of a mountain. They are connected by cable to empty ones at the bottom of the mountain. The weight of the loaded cars pull the empty ones back up to the top. Then the empty ones are loaded and down they go.

The other gravity railroads have steam engines mounted to bedrock. They pull the loaded cars up the mountains. Then gravity pulls them down the other side. Cables, once again, keep everything under control.

There are short hauls and long hauls. The longer ones take the coal to a canal that runs from Hawley, Pennsylvania to the Hudson River. That one is owned by the Pennsylvania Coal Company. The shorter run is owned by the Delaware and Hudson Railroad Company and meets the canal at its beginning in Honesdale.

The canal which runs between the Katskill and Shawgunk Mountains is owned by the D&H. It empties into the Hudson River at Kingston, New York. The coal is then floated down to New York City for all those immigrants to keep their homes warm.

Bugdon Yelcovich gave me this map so I could show you more clearly than I am able to put into words. He even circled the gravity railroads near Scranton so that I could see it better.

Damn eyes – – – I am going to have to get glasses pretty soon.

Bugdon Yelcovich – – – he knew things.

 

©W. Tomosky♠

AS I WANDERED #3 THE ARCHIBALD POTHOLE

Tags

archibald, eynon, Mayfield, Pennsylvania, pothole, Scranton

I had been in the Scranton, Pennsylvania area less than a year and had already seen several advancements in coal mining. There are all sorts of machinery that they use to extract the coal from this good earth. Maybe we can talk about that some day.

I was lucky to have hopped off the train in Scranton while I was on my wanderings out of New York City. Lucky for two reasons; first – – – I found a job right away as a railroad dick, and second – – – there were so many things to see out here in the hinterlands of the United States.

This picture shows another miracle. Not a manmade one like the Starucca Viaduct but one made by God or whoever is running the show here on earth.

This is a pothole made during the ice age. It is thirty-eight feet deep and forty feet wide. The story is that melting glacial water ran over this land and picked up stones. The stones found a depression and the water made an eddy in it. Over years and years of doing this the stones and water bored a hole in the bedrock.

But when man appeared on this area of earth the pothole was hidden. It had filled up with all those rocks, stones and water. Earth eventually covered most of it and trees grew. The natural bowl filled with water – – – never to be seen again; until – – – – –

The coal mines, as I said before, were going strong. Some fellows drilled a hole at the head of the mine they were working. They set off some dynamite. Instead of coal they were surprised to be chased up the mine shaft by water, rocks boulders and dead tree trunks.

They had blown a hole right into the bottom of the glacial pothole.

Well, it was not hidden any longer. It emptied all of its contents out into that mine shaft.

Everyone is claiming the pothole. The towns of Archibald, Mayfield and Eynon are all trying to lay claim to its fame. I guess whoever is collecting taxes on that land is going to own bragging rights. But then that raises another question. Who is paying the taxes? The owner of the surface or the owner of the mine?

Ah, politics. Aren’t they great?

©W. Tomosky♠

AS I WANDERED #2 STARUCCA VIADUCT

Tags

Rail Yard, Scranton, starucca viaduct

I had spent my first summer, fall and winter in Scranton. My pocket was full of money.

Someone told me about one of the wonders of the world; The Starucca Viaduct.

I just had to see it.

I bummed a ride in the caboose of a train heading for the Susquehanna, Pennsylvania railroad yard. They did a lot of railroad engine and car repair work there.

It was also the home of Joseph Smith and the Mormon religion – – – but I will save that for another time.

When I reached Susquehanna I still could not see the Starucca Viaduct. I was told that I had a two mile hike to Lanesboro if I wanted to see the viaduct. So I hiked.

I took the normal route – – – up and over the hill. The people were very friendly when I asked for directions.

The viaduct was, well, what can I say? It was one of the worlds wonders. The people in Lanesboro told me that the railroad owners did not want to pay the builder for his work. They were afraid the viaduct would not handle the load. So he threatened to sue. The owners decided, as a test, to send an empty train over the viaduct at slow speed. So the engineer started the engine, put it in low gear and hopped off – – – sending the driverless train over the viaduct.

It made the trip safely. Another engineer hopped aboard the engine on the other side.

The viaduct has been in use ever since. Now I can’t say this is a true story because I did not see it with my own eyes; but I believe it.

 

©W. Tomosky♠