PTLAT Passing Mount (Uncle) Eddy
Having departed Brooklyn Yard in Portland the previous evening, Southern Pacfiic's PTLAT (Portland Terminal to Los Angeles Trailers) is rolling through the heart of the Shasta Route at Upton, California. That mountain in the distance is Mt. Eddy, part of the Trinity Alps. It is a beautiful summer morning in June 1987. In less than an hour, the hotshot will pause at Dunsmuir for a crew change.
My Great Uncle Eddy Wakeman was one of the reasons I have a strong interest in railroading. He lived in Dunsmuir and worked as a conductor for Southern Pacific. When he made trips to Klamath Falls, we would often pick him up for dinner. Several of those trips would include a stop so Uncle Eddy could stock up on cigarettes before he worked his way home to Dunsmuir. As I recall, he could pick them up for $2.49 a carton, a huge savings over what they sold for in California.
After he retired, I often dropped by his home in Dunsmuir when I was out railfanning. Eddy would tell his tales of days spent working for the Friendly Espee. The house he and his wife lived in was on Scherrer Avenue, next to the main line. One visit, he told me to always park my car close to the house - away from the right of way - because "That's really bad track out there!"
Now that Uncle Eddy has crested the final summit, whenever I see an image of Mount Eddy I am reminded of him - especially if the image has a train.
PTLAT Passing Mount (Uncle) Eddy
Having departed Brooklyn Yard in Portland the previous evening, Southern Pacfiic's PTLAT (Portland Terminal to Los Angeles Trailers) is rolling through the heart of the Shasta Route at Upton, California. That mountain in the distance is Mt. Eddy, part of the Trinity Alps. It is a beautiful summer morning in June 1987. In less than an hour, the hotshot will pause at Dunsmuir for a crew change.
My Great Uncle Eddy Wakeman was one of the reasons I have a strong interest in railroading. He lived in Dunsmuir and worked as a conductor for Southern Pacific. When he made trips to Klamath Falls, we would often pick him up for dinner. Several of those trips would include a stop so Uncle Eddy could stock up on cigarettes before he worked his way home to Dunsmuir. As I recall, he could pick them up for $2.49 a carton, a huge savings over what they sold for in California.
After he retired, I often dropped by his home in Dunsmuir when I was out railfanning. Eddy would tell his tales of days spent working for the Friendly Espee. The house he and his wife lived in was on Scherrer Avenue, next to the main line. One visit, he told me to always park my car close to the house - away from the right of way - because "That's really bad track out there!"
Now that Uncle Eddy has crested the final summit, whenever I see an image of Mount Eddy I am reminded of him - especially if the image has a train.