A Remembrance Day story of bravery, second chances, gratitude and trains

I have often shared stories of my father's side of the family, since my grandfather and all my uncles worked for the Canadian Pacific or Via Rail at one point in their lives. One story I have not told is the story of my mother. And yes, railways play a large part in her story as well. I am sharing this story now, as it is close to Remembrance Day in Canada and this part of my family's story is quite compelling.

My grandfather on my Italian side (we called him Nonno) came to Canada following the end of the Second World War. He had been forced to serve in the Italian army under Mussolini and then had to retreat back to Italy while avoiding the Germans, when Mussolini was assassinated and the Italians left the Axis powers. 

The story about my grandfather goes that he and his friends found themselves disbanded as part of an occupying force in the former Yugoslavia. When the army disbanded, they had to ditch their uniforms and sneak across the entire country under the cover of night, to avoid Germans, who were hunting down Italians as traitors. My Nonno relayed to my uncle that they had to rely on the kindness of the people whose country they were occupying, to provide them food, clothes and places to sleep. What made things worse for his group was that one of their comrades was injured and could not walk. 

He told my Nonno and the other troops to leave him there, but they made the decision that he was not going to be left behind. Instead, they fashioned a sled and used their belts to drag him across the country until they safely returned to Northern Italy. The did it because they all agreed they couldn't face his family if they left him in Yugoslavia. It's an amazing story and it's the only war story that I know of in my family. It's hard to imagine someone I know being forced to survive like that. 

My Nonno came to Canada on his own and took a job as a track labourer for the Canadian Pacific Railway in the Crowsnest Pass area in British Columbia. There he worked until he could earn enough money to secure passage for his family to come to Canada (Both of my grandfathers worked for the CPR). My Nonno never forgot what Canada had given him: A second chance. He lived in the Italian community in Windsor and was one of the people who built the Fogolar Furlan Italian community centre. To the day he died, he always had an Italian flag and a Canadian flag where he lived. This shot below is a rare image of him and my Nonna in Windsor in the 1950s. That little guy wandering around is my Uncle John (Giovani).

My mother came to Canada when she was seven years old. She didn't remember much of the ship that took her from her home in Northern Italy to Halifax. But she told me that her first memory of that time landing in Halifax at Pier 21 was how cold it felt, which shocked her. She told me as well that she remembered sitting on long wooden benches at the Pier 21 processing facility, as her family was brought into Canada. I had a chance to visit this historic site and it was a powerful experience for me, a first generation Canadian on my mother's side. Her entry in Halifax would have been around 1956. It's quite possible that she was brought to Windsor by a steam engine. Possibly. This would have been right around the full transition to diesel F units.

I wonder about her route. I doubt it took her through Ottawa. If it had, she would not have gone through the Tremblay Road station, as the downtown Union Station was still operational, next to the Rideau Canal in the 1950s. But if she was on a train with diesel power on CP, it would have looked something like this below, I think. This is the eastbound Dominion with an E unit in 1967. It would definitely have been on cars that were maroon and grey,

Could she have ridden on an old heavyweight maroon coach like these on the CPR Christmas Train in Finch Ont.? I wonder.

From Halifax, my mom only told me how utterly long and exhausting the train ride was that brought her all the way to her new home in Windsor, Ont. I can't imagine how much of a shock it would have been to immigrants to truly experience the immensity of this country for the first time, which is unlike anything in Europe. I don't know what railway she would have taken, but I assume it might have been a little of both the CNR and CPR, given where her trip started and where it ended. I can also imagine there were likely connections to be made in Montreal at the old Windsor Station (Windsor Station in Montreal, explain that to an immigrant heading to Windsor!) and in Toronto at the Union Station.

My mom ended up growing up in Windsor, where she graduated from an all-girls school, St. Mary's Academy, before embarking on a career in teaching. She told me growing up in Windsor was tough in the 1950s and 1960s, as Italians were subject to fierce discrimination, which is understandable given their role in the Axis powers under their dictator. 

But it was a happy ending for my mom, as she found a peaceful life in Canada, free of the uncertainty and poverty in post-war Northern Italy. She didn't tell me all that much about her entry into Canada, except to say that it was an eye-opening experience on the train. 

My Uncle John, My Nonno and me at Heritage Park in Calgary in the early 1990s.

I wonder how many other families have similar stories about this country involving a train bringing them to their new home. Every Remembrance Day, I have mixed feelings, given my family history. I am thankful for those who served for my benefit. I have only ever considered myself a Canadian. I am lucky that my grandfather on my father's side was exempted from military service, since he was missing a finger on his trigger hand. 

Despite my Italian family's history, which began on the wrong side of the Second World War, this country gave them a second chance, and much of that was due to the sacrifices of the brave Canadians who served for my family's freedom. For that, I am thankful and I remember.

New for 2023

Since I brought this blog back in August 2021, I have been blessed with an abundance of material to share, which was made easier by the fact that I have slowed my pace to one post every other week. This means that I posted 24 times last year. That didn't seem like enough.

Those who have been following this blog since the beginning know that I maintained a weekly post pace for years, until the pandemic hit in 2020, when things became different. Personally, I found that I was running short on material and my posts were not up to my personal standards. I like to include elements of railfanning, a little bit of railway technical knowledge, some history, lots of storytelling and some big-picture commentary. I found I was not hitting many of those goals in my posts, so I parked the blog, not knowing if I wanted to resume what I was doing. 

I found that I had begun to rediscover my passion for sharing railway stories in August 2021, although I was wary of falling into the same trap of overpromising and underdelivering. That said, I now find myself in the position of having at least a half year's worth of posts in planning or production, which means I am creating a backlog. That is not a huge problem to have, until such time as when some of the posts cease to be fresh. I know I have a few posts that need significant updating.

Chatham, Ontario Via Rail station, March 2022. Expect to see a post about this railway town.

My solution this year is to post three times each month. I am aiming to post 10 days apart. That means you will see new content on the 1st, 10th and 20th of each month, with a gap a little bit longer at the end of each month. 

With this change of pace, I am going to continue developing content that is more far-reaching than ever. In the past, I have explored the various elements in a single railway photograph. I did the same thing earlier this year when I shared the various elements of two photographs I took of boxcars in Ogdensburg, New York. When I say far-reaching, I mean that I aim to explore more than just the nuts-and-bolts of where I shot a certain train, its number, what type of engine was pulling the consist and in which direction it was travelling. These are all elements I have included in the past, but it doesn't interest me as much as the intangibles of railroading. I thrive on my family railway stories, the challenges of getting shots in tight spaces and what railroading means to people. I find that sometimes railfanning becomes tiresome to me when it becomes more about the technical aspects rather than the intangibles. 

We all remember the thrill trains gave us as kids, I assume. I want to keep that spirit alive in my posts. I have a hard time understanding when people count axles on a train, for example. I see that a fair bit and I find it a bit mystifying to be honest. That's not a critique, by the way. If that is what people thrive on, that's great. You just won't find that level of detail here.

I will never profess to be the best photographer. You can visit any number of other blogs to see more proficient imagery and more informed technical information about railways. But for me, the stories will continue to be the main emphasis of my writing. I think it's just as important to show shots that didn't quite turn out and explain why.

I will try to maintain a strong focus on Eastern Ontario, but given its limitations, I will continue to branch out whenever I can and tell railway stories from wherever I happen to be.

All this to say, this blog will continue to evolve. I know that, since my hiatus, a large chunk of my readership has scattered, many to Facebook. I see some people slowly coming back, which is exciting to see. However, I am aware that blogs aren't what they used to be and it seems as if the trend toward railfans clustering on social media rather than on blogs will continue. That's okay. To each, their own. 

I will continue doing my thing here as honestly and actively as I can. I thank everyone for continuing to visit. Please feel free to make suggestions for content you'd like me to cover or pass along any information or images you'd like to share.

Cheers,

Michael

hammond.michael77 AT gmail dot com.

Beachburg Sub Milepost 300

Earlier this year, I very quietly passed the six-year mark, or at least the sixth anniversary of my first post on the Beachburg Sub blog. To be honest, the six-year mark came at a time when I was contending with a busy household, ballet lessons, swimming lessons, volunteer commitments, a basement that needed to be gutted and rebuilt as well as a relentless cold snap that prevented any time trackside.

I recall only thinking of the sixth anniversary (April 30, 2013 was the first post) a few weeks after I had actually passed the mark. Since that time, my basement has been rebuilt and the demands on my time have eased up a little bit. That’s when it hit me that I was approaching another milestone, or milepost, perhaps.

I was nearing my 300th post.

This here is Milepost 300.

I am proud of the fact that I’ve stuck with it as long as I have, considering how challenging it is to produce a blog from a city with so little in the way of railway fodder to offer. Over the years, I’ve learned a lot and managed to make the most of what little there is to see in Ottawa. But, that deficiency has also served me well as it has allowed me to engage in some interesting online discussion with other enthusiasts about railway policy, particularly at the local level (spoiler alert for any newcomer to this blog: local railway policy is a disaster).

I’ve given a lot of thought over the last year and a bit about this blog. I’ve thought about what I want to do with it and what stories I’d like to tell still. At times, I wondered if the well was running dry. As you might have guessed if you’ve been here before, I’m not content to just share photos of trains I’ve caught trackside. I like to tell stories and share information about railways as well. I’m not terribly well versed on the operational side (obviously), but I really enjoy delving into the history of railways. In fact, I’d like to start looking for a few historic topics to explore in new posts, since I haven’t done a lot of those recently.

I’ve been fortunate this summer that I have caught more trackside action than I did in all of 2018. I suppose it’s a glass half full situation. I am spending more time sharing recent trackside experiences and less time digging into some historic topics. When one well begins to run a bit dry, the other one always seems to have something fresh to offer.

It seems as though whenever I feel I’m running out of material or interesting things to share, something always comes along.

The end result of these musings is not really a result at all. I don’t know how long I will continue this blog and I like that I don’t know. I want to keep this project open-ended. I’ll do it as long as I enjoy it and I feel I have something worthwhile to share. I’ve had this approach since Day One. I have kept to a weekly schedule through much of these last six years, although I did have to ease my pace last year given all the things I mentioned above. I even took a small sabbatical this summer while I was on vacation in Southwestern Ontario, which allowed me to do a lot of railfanning and form the basis for about three months worth of posts.

So, as I pass MP300, let me just say thank you to everyone who stops by to read, comment, offer tips and sometimes even submit guest content (that list is quite large, so I won't mention everyone). I’m not really sure that a blog is a terribly relevant entity on the interwebs these days, but I like this blog and I enjoy sharing what little I have to offer with fellow enthusiasts.

Okay, enough navel gazing. As they say en francais, on-y va. Let’s go.

Michael

30 for 40: A lifetime of Via Rail memories (Part I)

Via Rail Canada’s 40th anniversary had me thinking back to all my memorable moments on the train. Like many others, many of my experiences on the train are tied to family trips and travelling between my hometown in Southern Ontario and university in Ottawa. I encourage anyone else out there to maybe share a few Via memories of your own. As much as people complain about our national passenger railway, I think the railway deserves a great deal of praise for continuing to provide an excellent service despite being at the mercy of its various political masters over the years. So, without further ado, here is the first installment of my 30 Via 40 memories. Let’s start with the first 10 memories, in random order.

1. My first ride aboard Via Rail was when my family took a short trip from Sarnia to London because my father had some appointment in downtown London. I was very young but I have a vague recollection that we were in an old Via Rail blue and yellow coach on a sunny morning. I also remember getting off the train at the old London station and getting into a yellow taxi cab for the first time in my young life. For a kid from a town of 6,000, seeing a “big” city and travelling on a train was about as much excitement as I could handle. This trip was very likely circa 1983-84.

2. I am lucky that I was able to catch the tail end of Via’s rainbow years, when there were was a variety of equipment in use. I recall the first time I saw a Via Rail train in the wild, as it were. The train was an all-blue consist, with an old F unit on point. We were stopped at the Bloomfield Road level crossing in Chatham, as we were making our way to Windsor to visit my grandparents. The train was heading east toward London. I don’t know why this moment sticks out in my mind, but it could not have been any later than 1983. Even to this day, my favourite piece of railway motive power is any F unit. I guess for me, they would hold the same fascination that steam holds for older generations.

3. In 1983 (this time, I know it was 1983), my family was taking the train from Sarnia all the way to Quebec City on the train for a family vacation. I have a number of memories from that time, including sleeping on the seats of an old blue and yellow coach as the train made its way overnight into Quebec. There can’t be a much more Canadian experience than this. My mom told me I fell asleep for six hours on one of those seats. I could never do that today.

4. During that same trip, I remember my brother and I walking the platforms as we were getting on to our train at Toronto’s Union Station. We spotted an old CN black-and-white consist on the platform. At the time, I had never seen any passenger equipment in anything but the familiar Via Rail blue and yellow. It would be years before I realized that Via hadn’t always just been around. The sight of those old CN black and white coaches made me a little bit jealous. I wanted to be on board that train, I told my brother. I was intensely curious.

5. Skipping ahead many years, I remember bringing my now departed dog Tessie to the Fallowfield train station in 2011, to pick up my wife who was returning home from a conference in Toronto. At the time, my wife was pregnant with our first daughter and my dog had never been apart from her, which was a bit traumatic for the dog, since my wife works from home. Well, I thought it would be a nice surprise for my wife, but it turns out that the sound and thunder of the approaching train scared my dog (a small schnauzer) half to death. But, all was well, when my wife emerged from the train and my dog saw her favourite person in the world.

6. One time on my way home from university in Ottawa, there was a great deal of commotion behind my seat. I turned around to see a flurry of well-wishers shaking hands with Walter Gretzky, who was heading home as well.

7. In 1998, I was aboard one of the very last Via Rail trains to make it into Ottawa before the ice storm essentially shut down everything in Eastern Ontario and West Quebec.

8. In October 1996, I took the train home for Thanksgiving weekend, after being away at university for the first time in my life. I arrived at Sarnia station pretty late after a long day in transit. My brother was on the station platform waiting for me. I remember him jumping up to see where I was. It’s always good to have that type of homecoming.

9. The first time I had one of those “Where am I?” moments was on one of my first trips aboard a Via Rail train to Ottawa. The train stopped at Ganonoque Station. I looked around and essentially saw nothing. Anyone who has travelled in this area knows this station is in a pretty isolated location. That was when I wondered what kind of one-horse town Ganonoque was. Of course, appearances can be deceiving. Ganononque is actually a really cool little town along the water. You just wouldn’t know it from the station.

10. I am going to date myself here, but I remember when you could still smoke on a train. As part of my family’s trip to Montreal (again, this was early 1980s), half of our LRC car was designated as smoking. I remember a very animated group at the opposite end of our car carrying on a lively conversation in French. My mom and dad were not impressed. It was only later that I discovered that the group was actually telling a bunch of dirty jokes.