Old Erie station at Otisville, photograph by James E. Bailey, dated 1909. This station was located closer to downtown Otisville, the current Otisville station is in a different location.

Though it feels like we’ve just begun our tour of the Port Jervis line, in reality, we’re almost complete. Of course, the Port Jervis line is not nearly as long as either the Harlem or Hudson lines which have already been featured here. The fact that the stations here are rather unremarkable, and a bit more forgettable, probably doesn’t help. Today’s station, Otisville, is another one of the line’s bland stops. We’re deep into the rural portion Orange County here – and about 82 miles from the start of the line in Hoboken. In terms of ridership, Otisville is the Port Jervis line’s least used station – something the infrastructure seems to reflect. Besides a small shelter on the low-level platform, and a few station name signs, there isn’t too much here.

Train exiting the Otisville Tunnel, 1948.

While the New York Central had its famed “Water-level Route,” following along rivers like the Hudson and providing a relatively flat journey – the Erie Railroad had to tackle more difficult terrain. The Shawangunk Ridge was one such obstacle, and although track had been built near Otisville going over the ridge, it was not the optimal solution for freight. The answer to the problem was the Otisville Tunnel, built in 1908, and likely more noteworthy than the station itself. From the station platform you can see the portal to the tunnel, and the extra track used as a siding for trains entering and exiting. The tunnel measures 5,314 feet long, is 30 feet wide, and extends 25 feet above the rails at the top of the arch. When the tunnel was first built it was used exclusively for freight – passenger trains still went over the ridge – but that was eventually abandoned and all traffic was sent through the tunnel.

Next week we’ll take a visit to the eponymous Port Jervis station, and the end of the line. After that we’ll move on to the short Pascack Valley line, followed by the one everyone has been waiting for – the Hudson Line.

Postcard of Millwood, and the final passenger service timetable on the Putnam Division. Timetable from the collection of Otto Vondrak.

Frank Schlegel photograph of Millwood station

Yes, I suppose this is a bit of a joke. I’m not really doing a tour of the Putnam Division, although I have been to a few of the stations. We must, however, pay our final respects to Millwood, which was one of the few remaining Put stations. Was being the keyword there. On Wednesday morning, Millwood station was demolished, just days after I posted that a demolition permit was applied for. Truly sad.

On Friday I visited the spot where Millwood once stood. I thought in my head I’d at least see some sort of hint that there was something there. Some material strewn all over the ground, a hole or overturned dirt, anything. But there was nothing. It was torn down and covered up too well. I suppose this is why we must photograph everything – you never know when something will just suddenly disappear.

Millwood, I will always remember the words that someone scrawled on one of your outside walls.

In other news, your real Tuesday Tour, of Otisville on the Port Jervis Line, will be posted later on today!

I hope everyone had a spectacular weekend… Although I managed to get slightly sunburnt, we certainly had some lovely weather! Maybe you even partook in some of the events for National Train Day in Grand Central? I saw quite a few of you there, apologies to the folks I never got a chance to meet up with and say hi.

My weekend was quite full with Train Day festivities, as well as my first photographic foray to the foreign territory that is the Hudson Line. At Poughkeepsie I achieved the milestone of my 100th Metro-North station photographed. When you think about it, I mostly take pictures of stations, not trains (though stations do look better when there are trains present). But there was certainly an exception to that over the weekend, as I managed to snap quite an array of trains in various places along all three lines. Want to know how my weekend was? It is far easier to show you in photographs than it is in words – so here is a little bit of randomness from the past few days.

“So, boss, where do we fit the Metro-North logo?” “I don’t know, just slap it wherever there’s some room!”

I’m sure this is the post you’ve absolutely been dying for… the moment we officially crown Metro-North’s station with the longest name. Middletown Town of Wallkill is certainly a mouthful… And it certainly fills up those station signs. Though most folks probably call the station just Middletown, the station is considered part of Wallkill. The real Middletown station, which is now a library that I featured a few weeks ago, was on the portion of the Erie main line that was abandoned when Metro-North took over in the 80′s. A new station was built, and to include everybody it inherited the name Middletown, and was also given the name Wallkill. Unfortunately, there is another Wallkill in New York – the hamlet of Wallkill, which is in Ulster county. Therefore, to differentiate the two, “town of” was tacked on in front of Wallkill. This is apparently how you create a massive station name. Only on the Port Jervis line.

A circus train arrives at the former Middletown station in 1906. The old station is about three and half miles west of the current station. [images source]

As you’ve likely surmised, Middletown Town of Wallkill station is hardly an interesting place. It does have relatively new facilities though, with a nice green canopy covering the platform, and two ticket vending machines. There is a mini low-level platform for any riders in wheelchairs, but Harriman is considered the closest station with full ADA accessibility. The station is approximately 72 miles from Hoboken, a ride that ranges from around one hour and 45 minutes to two hours. A ride to Penn Station takes around two hours as well. Beyond that, there isn’t anything super interesting about this place… though if you’re a fan of shopping, there is a mall not far from the station.

Hidden away in a nearly-forgotten corner of my computer’s almost-full hard drive are a few photos that were never meant to see the light of day. They were dark, and the day was rainy, and they were downright horrible. But a bit of graffiti scrawled on the side of the station that I remembered photographing always sat in the back of my mind. It read, “The trains don’t stop here any more. Save me, I’m your history.” A news article that was sent to me today (thanks, Jeff!) led me to dig out those photos.

The station on which the graffiti was written is Millwood – once part of the long-gone Putnam Division. Hardly in spectacular condition (but certainly not the worst), the status of the building has been in limbo for quite a while. Again the station finds itself in the news, as a demolition permit has been applied for. Though tearing down this historical building would be sad, I find it laughable that the article mentions a proposal for making a replica of the station. Why not save the real thing, while it is still here?

 

“Save me, I’m your history.” An apt observation. I wonder who wrote it…

 

Early 1900′s views of the Erie’s Campbell Hall station, which was on the Montgomery Branch. The current Campbell Hall station is now located on what was the Graham Line.

As we continue our tour of the Port Jervis line, the next stop we arrive at is Campbell Hall. While the Metro-North facilities here are rather dull, there is a little bit of interesting stuff that does go on at this station. What you’ll immediately notice are the multiple tracks – since the majority of the Port Jervis line is single-tracked. Stowed on a few of the tracks are various train cars, and maybe if you’re lucky you’ll see a locomotive. Though a few of them might belong to Metro-North or New Jersey Transit, the majority probably belongs to the Middletown and New Jersey Railroad, which operates through Campbell Hall.

Postcard view of freight on the Graham Line in Campbell Hall, 1971

Though the Erie did have a station at Campbell Hall, it was not located along this line. When Metro-North took over operations in the 80′s, a small facility was established here, as there were no stations on the Graham Line previously. Like many of the other Port Jervis line facilities we’ve seen, there is not too much here. The low-level platform is partially covered by a canopy, and there is a small shelter to protect riders from the elements. Located inside the shelter are two New Jersey Transit ticket vending machines. The station has a small high-level platform section to accommodate riders in wheelchairs, but is not considered a fully ADA accessible station. Dispersed along the platform are a few planter boxes containing trees… which would probably be a nice touch anywhere else, but we are pretty much located in the wilderness already.

Wilderness case-in-point. You can photograph both trains and wildlife at Campbell Hall. I’ve named this little fellow Paulo coelho.

 

Photos of the Metro-North station at Campbell Hall in the late 80′s. The station has been renovated since, and there is a far nicer shelter for riders. [photo credit]

Campbell Hall was certainly a lot more interesting in the past, with several railroads passing through the small hamlet – but today it is just serviced by Metro-North’s commuter trains, and some occasional freight. On the commuter side of things, a ride from Campbell Hall to Penn Station in the city will take you slightly less than two hours, and to Hoboken about an hour and a half.

Though my stormy-day photographs of Campbell Hall are hardly spectacular, thankfully they are not the worst photos ever taken here – I bestow that honor upon Metro-North itself. One of these days they are totally going to update their site, so it doesn’t say that Campbell Hall is “65.6 miles to Grand Central Terminal” – but that day probably isn’t today.

When it comes to historical figures related to the subject of railroads, I don’t think you could find a more interesting person to read about than Cornelius Vanderbilt. The Commodore, as he was known, was brusque, at times ruthless, and didn’t really give a damn what anybody thought of him. While one biographer tells an interesting story of Vanderbilt’s sunset years – suffering from syphilis, going slowly mad, and operated like a puppet by his son – another biographer refutes that story as a complete fabrication (and he makes a fairly convincing case).

The undeniable thing we do know of Cornelius Vanderbilt is that he amassed a fortune first from steamboats, and later from railroads. The Commodore had no desire to split up his massive fortune upon his death, and thus the overwhelming majority was bequeathed to his son William Henry. From there the inheritance was divided between William Henry’s sons, with the larger portions going to the eldest two – Cornelius II and William Kissam. While the Commodore and William Henry were quite adept at making money, the next generation of Vanderbilts were quite fantastic at spending it. Today’s post is the first in a series about the extravagant things that this railroad fortune was spent on. A few of the Vanderbilt mansions are still in existence, two of which are in Newport, Rhode Island. The first we will be visiting is Marble House, which was financed by William Henry’s second son, William Kissam Vanderbilt.

Postcard view of Marble House, located on Bellevue Avenue in Newport, Rhode Island

Anyone who has been in Grand Central Terminal is somewhat familiar with the Vanderbilt family and some of the characteristics found in architecture created for them. A common motif is the acorn and oak leaf, which is frequently sighted in the Terminal, and at another Newport mansion – The Breakers – which belonged to Cornelius II. Other than its extravagance, not much about Marble House screams “Vanderbilt” – likely because it was wholly a creation of Alva Erskine Vanderbilt, wife of William Kissam, and architect Richard Morris Hunt. Alva and William wedded in mostly a marriage of convenience – she was sociable and knew her way around the high society the new generation of Vanderbilts desired to be a part of. He was certainly wealthy, but lacked the full acceptance of New York City’s elite. Together, however, they managed to host extravagant balls that launched them to the forefront of New York society.

Marble House was known as a cottage – or in the parlance of the wealthy of that era, merely a summer home. It was William’s gift to his wife for her 39th birthday – and an extravagant gift it was. The building cost around $11 million, $7 million of which was for marble alone. Built in the Beaux Arts style, the inside and out was influenced by both French and Greek art and architecture. After completion in 1892, Marble House remained in Alva’s possession until 1932 – despite her divorce with William in 1895.

Although a masterpiece for Alva, Marble House served as more of a gilded prison for one young Vanderbilt. Consuelo was the second child of William Kissam and Alva, and their only daughter. She described her mother as, “a born dictator, she dominated events about her as thoroughly as she eventually dominated her husband and her children.” She said of her father: “He was so invariably kind… gentle and sweet… with a fund of humorous tales and jokes that as a child were my joy,” but also noted “he only played a small part in our lives… our mother dominated our upbringing, our education, our recreation and our thoughts.”

Consuelo Vanderbilt, later in life. Drawn by Paul Helleu, the artist responsible for the sky ceiling in Grand Central Terminal.

Marble House was completed when Consuelo was 16, and it was not long after that Alva began searching for the perfect mate for her daughter. Though many desired Consuelo’s hand in marriage (and clearly, the money that came along with), her mother found the young Charles Spencer-Churchill, 9th Duke of Marlborough the clear winner. When Consuelo told her mother she would not marry the Duke, she was sequestered in the mansion: not permitted to leave, nor contact any friends. Her mother even faked a heart attack, “brought about by [Consuelo's] callous indifference to [her mother's] feelings.” Consuelo relented, and agreed to marry the Duke – who officially proposed to her in Marble House’s Gothic Room. Though the wedding was certainly paid for by Vanderbilt money, Alva did not permit any Vanderbilts to attend the ceremony, with the exception of her ex-husband.

Today, Marble House is maintained by the Preservation Society of Newport County, who has owned the mansion since 1963. Regular people can tour the mansion, however, for the truly wealthy, you can rent the place out for an event. The weekend I was visiting, this was the case. One of the employees there even said to me that some of the guests arriving for the festivities, “had more money than God.” I suppose it turned out well in the end – while everyone was distracted with the wealthy visitors, I was able to surreptitiously take a few photographs of the inside of the mansion. Many furnishings in the house are original that were donated to the Preservation Society, though the visage of the Commodore is visible throughout the house. Assumedly, these are not original, as I can not imagine Alva keeping these in her meticulously designed abode.

In addition to the main house, the mansion has a small Chinese tea house in the back yard, right next to the water. Several years newer than the main house – the tea house was commissioned in 1912, and opened in July of 1914. The small tea house is 1125 square feet with 14 foot high ceilings, and played host to various meetings of Alva’s pet cause – womens’ suffrage. There is something slightly amusing about a woman who fought for womens’ rights, yet forced her daughter into an arranged marriage for a noble title, but Consuelo did not seem to hold this against her mother.

If you are a railfan, most likely you’ve heard about the upcoming National Train Day festivities – provided you aren’t living under a rock or something. In the past, I admit that I’ve made a few cracks about this somewhat recently-established “holiday.” Amtrak declaring a particular day National Train Day almost seems to me as silly as Hallmark declaring a “send your loved-one a card or you don’t really love them” day (which in some circles may also be known as Valentine’s Day). Thankfully, the National Train Day celebration does in fact coincide with a bit of history – namely the completion of the first Transcontinental Railroad in the US on May 10th (and as everybody knows, the railroads built this country). But with events to be held in Grand Central Terminal this year, I’m thinking National Train Day is really going to be an awesome event, and certainly worth attending.

In addition to seeing some pretty cool trains (and I’ve heard some interesting rumors…), all the foamers can also foam at Rosario Dawson, whom the Twitterverse has reminded me is totally relevant because she was in some movie about trains (I guess Denzel Washington was already booked, and marginally less foam-worthy). So be sure to mark your calendars for May 12, the Saturday date for National Train Day’s celebration this year. Events will begin at 11 AM and carry on until 4PM. In addition to Ms. Dawson, Amtrak’s 40th Anniversary exhibit train will be making an appearance – chock full of historical memorabilia.

As I know many of you, my devoted readers, will certainly be attending this event, I thought perhaps a get-together should be in order. Anybody want to meet up, grab a meal afterwards, or something of that nature? Drop me a comment, or send me an email at [email protected].

Continuing our Port Jervis Line tour where we left off last week, we depart Harriman station, bound for the next station on the line, Salisbury Mills – Cornwall. We’re still moving along what was once known as the Graham Line (named after Chief Engineer Joseph M. Graham), which was created to better accomodate freight. Really, the most noteworthy part of the then-Graham Line, today’s Port Jervis Line, is the Moodna Viaduct. Many months ago I did post a bit about the viaduct, so I wont really rehash any of that here, but in order to finally arrive at Salisbury Mills – Cornwall station, you cross over the viaduct. Although I am sure the valley looks quite beautiful from the train, I don’t think the viaduct can fully be appreciated until you view it from afar.

Train crossing the Moodna Viaduct. The Salisbury Mills – Cornwall station is located right at the end of the viaduct.

The facility at Salisbury Mills – Cornwall is relatively underwhelming – at least in comparison to the lovely viaduct we just crossed. The first thing one notices upon arrival are how long the station name signs are – long enough to contain two rows of text. If Metro-North’s goal was to come up with some of the longest station names possible, they certainly succeeded on the Port Jervis Line. Sadly, Salisbury Mills – Cornwall just misses out to Middletown – Town of Walkill for the honor of Metro-North’s longest station name.

Back at Harriman, I mentioned that a few of the stations on the Port Jervis line feature a little historical sketch on the canopy. Unfortunately, the one at Salisbury Mills – Cornwall is left blank… which is really too bad, since it would give this relatively plain facility a (very small) bit of character.

Old views of the depot at Salisbury Mills. Upper image is a postcard view from the early 1900′s, lower image is from 1971. The original Salisbury Mills station was on the Erie’s Newburgh Branch.

Salisbury Mills – Cornwall is one of a few Port Jervis line stations that is ADA accessible, and the south end of the platform has a small high-level platform for passengers requiring wheelchairs. From this end of the platform you can also see the end portion of the viaduct, although it looks far shorter from this vantage point. Though the station has two shelters for patrons to use, the one here on the platform’s south side is a bit nicer than the one on the other end (this portion of the platform is also covered by a canopy). Next to the shelter are two lovely parking pay machines (doesn’t everyone love to pay for parking?!), and more towards the middle of the platform you can find two NJTransit ticket vending machines.

View of Storm King Art Center, showing works by Mark di Suvero. [Photo Credit]

As an art lover, I’d certainly be remiss if I did not mention that the Salisbury Mills – Cornwall station is not far from the wonderful Storm King Art Center. If you haven’t heard of it before, Storm King is a sculpture park situated on over 500 acres of land. Many noteworthy artists have works on display, such as Isamu Noguchi and one of my personal favorites, Alexander Calder. Back when I featured Greenwich, I mentioned artist Mark di Suvero, as a sculpture of his is located right next to the station. That sculpture’s companion piece is located here at Storm King. Unfortunately there is no public transportation that will carry you from the station to the art center, so you’d have to get a taxi to take you the place – though it is only three miles away from the station.

That is about it for Salisbury Mills – Cornwall. Next week we will continue with Campbell Hall station. Everything seems to be going by so fast… we’re already half-way through the Port Jervis Line!

Just yesterday I was reading an article about SEPTA’s “nerve center” – although cool, I must admit that Metro-North’s Operations Control Center is far nicer – at least in my opinion. Though the SEPTA article states that “nothing like [this control center] exists in New York, Chicago, Boston, Washington, DC, or any other American city.” – it is really an argument of semantics – as the author makes the point that SEPTA’s control room monitors trolleys, trains and buses, and clearly Metro-North’s watches over just trains. But while their center is operated by a crew of three, Metro-North’s is staffed by many more. The control boards at the front and center of the room, however, are quite similar in both – and reading that article reminded me that not only have I not mentioned my visit to Metro-North’s Operations Control Center, I haven’t posted any photos of it either!

 

Back in the day, this stuff was considered state-of-the-art, and these were the people that watched over the railroad. Today, things are a bit more modern, and consolidated in a central location (no more towers – everything is controlled by the folks in the OCC).

For the record (and to my inevitable haters), the OCC is hardly a secret, especially when Metro-North themselves have posted photos of it online. And while I could say that I will not divulge the location of the OCC for security purposes, the New York Post has already spilled the beans that it is hidden in the upper floors of Grand Central Terminal. For additional security, I won’t even tell you how to decipher the large display boards – except for the fact that it, too has already been written about. And even WNYC has featured video on their website of the OCC… so I am hardly the first to offer a glimpse at the control center (or at least a realistic look at the OCC).

View of the old control center by user Triborough on Flickr.

The current OCC is relatively new, and you may recall Metro-North mentioning the updates back in 2010. If you compare the above photos with the new Operations Control Center, there is quite a big difference. The new facility is undeniably attractive, and far less antiquated looking than the previous.

Working out of the OCC are Metro-North’s Rail Traffic Controllers (or as they are more commonly known, RTC’s) – probably one of the most hectic (and thankless) jobs on the railroad. Besides monitoring where every Metro-North train is, and directing those trains when necessary, it is also their job to solve various issues that trains may encounter en route – like calling for police. I must take a moment here to thank Metro-North’s RTC’s for the work that they do – and especially for being quick with a call to police when there was a guy publicly masturbating on my train one evening (I wish I was kidding).

Metro-North’s system is divided up into various districts, each of which is monitored by a Rail Traffic Controller. The Harlem Line, for example, is split into Districts A (lower Harlem) and B (upper Harlem). The RTC watches over all trains in their district, which could be a hundred or more trains in an 8-hour shift. This includes Metro-North, Amtrak, or any other trains operating in that area, in revenue service or otherwise. All work on the tracks needs permission from the RTC, as to prevent any accidents from happening. While conductors are clearly the public face of Metro-North, a Rail Traffic Controller is generally someone you don’t see, but it is their job to keep you safe – passengers and employees alike.

 
  

Metro-North’s Operations Control Center

Overlooking the OCC is Metro-North’s “Situation Room” – the place where all the important people would assemble during a major incident or emergency (some of our previous major snowstorms, and even Irene, warrant use of this room). Not only can you watch over the RTC’s in the control center through a handy window, the room is equipped with several televisions that show the departures on all three lines, train arrivals, and even a realtime map of train locations.

 
 
The situation room… sans Metro-North senior management. I wonder which seat belongs to Howard Permut…

That’s about all I’ve got for today’s little tour of the Operations Control Center… now I’ve gotta go buy a particular RTC a cup of coffee! :D