RCF_0343-SharpenAI-Softness-DeNoiseAI-severe-noise
"If you want to see the last Interstate unit to leave Andover, you'd better get up here!" The voice on the other end of the phone was Sonny Burchfield, an operator for the Southern at the newly combined Interstate-Southern yard at Andover. As the evening sun set behind the southwestern Virginia hills on Oct. 5, 1965, I drove up to the engine facility to find a single Alco RS-3, Interstate Railroad No. 32, burbling away all by itself. Her nine sister units were already in Atlanta, or enroute soon to be repainted in Southern's black-and-off-white livery and placed in yard and transfer service. The Tri-X Pan black-and-white film in my camera was just barely fast enough to record a few handheld shots in the fading light, but this was history, and I had to have a photo. Later that night, No. 32 left Andover in tow for Atlanta, where it joined its nine sister units for continued service in Georgia and the Carolinas.
RCF_0343-SharpenAI-Softness-DeNoiseAI-severe-noise
"If you want to see the last Interstate unit to leave Andover, you'd better get up here!" The voice on the other end of the phone was Sonny Burchfield, an operator for the Southern at the newly combined Interstate-Southern yard at Andover. As the evening sun set behind the southwestern Virginia hills on Oct. 5, 1965, I drove up to the engine facility to find a single Alco RS-3, Interstate Railroad No. 32, burbling away all by itself. Her nine sister units were already in Atlanta, or enroute soon to be repainted in Southern's black-and-off-white livery and placed in yard and transfer service. The Tri-X Pan black-and-white film in my camera was just barely fast enough to record a few handheld shots in the fading light, but this was history, and I had to have a photo. Later that night, No. 32 left Andover in tow for Atlanta, where it joined its nine sister units for continued service in Georgia and the Carolinas.