January 01, 2008 I had never completely forgotten the American Flyer train set I had as a child, but over the years it had faded from everyday memory. When railfanning introduced itself to me several years back, those memories came to the forefront more and more often. When the opportunity to write a blog presented itself to me, one of my first thoughts was to share the tale of that marvelous train set.

The story actually begins with a Lionel set that dad would set up under the Christmas tree each year. I don't recall much, other then it was a simple oval with a Blue engine, perhaps a Santa Fe Blue Bonnet, but I have no proof of that. One year came the news that mom and dad had received a new set that would need to be set up on a table in the basement. My memory is weak but I'm pretty sure it came from the neighbor who no longer wanted it. This was it: the American Flyer train set. The one I would come to appreciate more today then I ever could as a snot-nosed little kid.

I have vague memories of dad building the large L-shaped table that the new set would rest upon. It had removable legs as it was only permitted up in the winter time and rested propped up against the wall in dad's workshop during the remainder of the year. I came to look forward in great anticipation to the day it would get hauled out and set up each year.

The layout was simple, a large oval running the length of the L and a shorter oval intersecting with 2 switches and a diamond. 2 spur tracks came off of the shorter oval and ran down between the larger one.

The control area sat in the inside corner of the L and consisted of:

• 1) Transformer
• 2) 2 small rectangular boxes that each controlled two switches. Silver levers stuck up out of the boxes with a green light for the switch to open for the main and a red one for closed.
• 3) One other small box sat next to the switches with a red button on it. More on this later.

The landscaping wasn't fancy, but there were buildings; two houses, a church, and a school sat inside the smaller oval while a farm and a factory building were in the larger oval next to the two spur tracks. There telephone poles and white picket fences - I remember they were always falling down. Dad had painted the yards green and the roads black with the dotted yellow line. Matchbox cars and trucks were brought out from our collection even though scale was considerably off.

I believe the train was S-scale. Kids simply don't care about that kind of stuff, at least we didn't. There were animals for the farm and perhaps the coolest thing (remember I'm a kid) was a boxcar that shot out milk cans to the factory when stopped over an ejector built into the track. Now you know what that red button was for. Dad had also taken a set of our Christmas lights (C9s) and drilled holes so a light would be in each building. The memory of running that train in the dark and through the shadows casts by the buildings is very vivid.

The engine has been a struggle for me to pull out of the mental cobwebs. I can tell you for sure, that is was a Santa Fe war bonnet; it looked very much like the photo. I did a little research and found what I believe to be the correct one. An Alco PA-PB unit. It may also have been some sort of AB F-unit. The rolling stock consisted of the aforementioned milk can shooting boxcar, a flat bed with a coil of wire on it, an empty gondola, a tanker car and a caboose. The caboose holds no memory of type or color. There was also a two man hand car with little blue men pumping furiously when running at full throttle. We called it the "pumper" car. You knew you were good when you could run the train on the large oval and the pumper car on the short one with out a collision at the diamond or a derailment at the switches. It required a light touch on the throttle and furiously throwing switches back and forth.

As each year went by, the train would come out in the winter and back into hibernation come spring time. I can't tell you how many hours we spent "trackside" during those years, but it was considerable. I suppose it was inevitable that our attention would wander a little more each year as other items grabbed our attention. Most notably was the Strombecker slot car set we bought with our own money and continued to grow in size as each Christmas came by. Does anyone remember the TV jingle for this? "Over and under and through the chicane" is the beginning. I can still sing it from start to finish. But I digress.

It's important to know why our train was finally put up for sale. As unbelievable as it sounds to my ears today, we simply had no more interest in that American Flyer.

I clearly remember the evening that it left our possession. Dad had placed an ad in the St. Paul Sunday Pioneer Press; by Saturday night there was a man at our door. He had a wad of bills the size of my adult fist. Several boxes and a $100 bill exchanged hands. As the boxes were being loaded, I remember a couple of things clearly and few not so clear. Number one: the man said he was traversing the state buying up American Flyer trains; number two: he felt lucky as there were only two other engines of this type known to be still functional (My father never cussed in front of us, but I'm positive when the door closed, he muttered some four-letter word under his breath with that piece of news); and, third: the man also said something about building a layout, with all this stuff in a town I cannot remember. Somewhere in southern Minnesota... is all I can recall.

With that, the Flyer was out of my life. The old adage of "not knowing what you've got, till it's gone" made itself known to me the very next winter when there was no train to set up. We still had the race set, but as my brother and I sat there racing, I would glance over towards Dad's workshop where the old table remained propped up against the wall. I would wish, as kids are prone to do, that we could set up the train again. I used to say to myself, "When I'm older, I'll go find that layout!"

I never did. I doubt it would still exist today, some 40 odd years after it was sold. I do not hold any animosity towards my parents, it was me, after all, that showed little or no interest towards it. Besides, they needed the money for something or other. $100 was a lot of money in the mid 60s.

I will always have the memories of that War bonet flashing past the light from the buildings, the shadows it cast along the wall, the clickety-clack sound as it crossed the switches and the smell of a hot transformer that had been run just a little too long.

Is there a moral to the story? I don't think so; I really think I just wanted or perhaps needed to tell it so I wouldn't loose the memory. Thanks for taking the time to read it.

X