The Marion Enterprise

by Dora Westfall

When the trolley line was assured, the promoters were ready to drop the Newark and Marion Railway. The superintendent of construction, W. A. Steckle, seeing the great advantage to Marion of having a railway, pleaded to have it kept, and was given permission to operate it for a certain length of time if he could show a profit.

Marion had the distinction of having more freight originated here than on any other road of similar length in the US.

The passenger service was a boon to Marion people and at first, round trips were made three times a day, stopping along the way to take on or discharge passengers. The passenger car was usually next to the engine with a string of freight cars following. It was usually a discard from some other railroad. One of the coaches, which had little heat and was lighted only by lanterns, was mysteriously burned. The whistle began blowing and citizens ran to the station only to find the coach on fire and beyond saving. But after that, somewhat better coaches were provided. The early engines too were often old and many stories were told about the train being stalled in the snow, and other service breakdowns.(October 17th 1930.)

From Marion to Newark, the running time varied between thirty-five and sixty minutes. The fair was thirty-five cents from either way. Being of the same general management as the Rochester, Syracuse, and Eastern, the Marion line shared in much of the larger roads advertising. Close connections were made at the Northern Central Station in Newark. RS&E tickets were on sale at the Marion station. Frequent excursions were run between Marion and points on the electric road.

Passenger flag stops on the line reading from the Marion end were: Rich Siding, Manders, Jaggers, Fisher's Crossing, Beal's Crossing, Town Line Road, Sand Hill Siding, Welcher's Hill, Water Works, and North main Street, Newark. From the start, however, the Newark & Marion depended upon car load freight for its bread and butter. For that reason, it has been able to survive.

For the year ending June 30th, 1911, the revenue from freight was far ahead of the passenger revenue, $11,245 versus $5,305. While the mail bought in $460, they ended with a deficit of $3,000.

After several years of financial loss, the road went into the hands of receivers, and for a time, beginning April 6th 1917, the road was closed and grass grew between the rails. It was soon put up at auction and sold under foreclosure at the Lyons, NY courthouse.

A group of citizens planned to buy the road and operate it. Dr. Albert Halsted represented the people and the bid was $34,000 for the railroad. It had cost $170,000 to build. The only other bidder was a firm dealing in junk, which would have scrapped the road. Bonds were sold to residents of Marion.

Marion Railway Corp. Inc. acquired all the property of the Newark & Marion Railway on May 5th, 1917. The property consisted of 8.32 miles of main line and yards and sidings of 1.32 miles. The new franchise expires in 1999. Capitol stock was $10,000.00 and the passenger revenue for the last three months of 1917 was $1,664.00. This included the Christmas rush trade into Newark.

In December 1928, S. C. Comstock of Newark, who had large canning interests in Marion, bought the controlling interest in the railroad. He devoted a good deal of time to improving the railroad, more land was purchased and sidings were installed, making a greatly expanded yard for shifting and loading.

May 4th, 1930 was when the Pennsylvania Railroad paid $140,000 to acquire the railroad and the next year, on March 2nd, many officials from Williamsport and Philadelphia came to Marion to inspect the road.

It is said that in 1930, 875 cars of celery, 200 cars of carrots, 100 cars of onions, 150 cars of canned goods besides cars of lettuce, apples, pears, beans, cider, and vinegar were shipped on the road.

Our Memories of An Engineer

by George Yohe

George liked children and every Saturday he would buy several dollars worth of candy bars. On the trip to Marion, all the kids would be waiting along the track. As George passed, he would throw off candy bars, one per child. This Saturday stunt was a regular thing.

On the 24th of each December, George would purchase a vast amount of peanut candy and candy bars and divide it equally in brown paper bags. Those he would put into the seat-box, sometimes filling it so full that he couldn't put the cushion down. From clean engine waste he would fashion a crude white beard, pull on a long red stocking cap and set off for Marion. The kids would be waiting and "Santa Claus" would toss off a bag for the various children along the line. This gave old George a great deal of happiness.

March 1952, the road came under the Susquehanna Division of the Pennsylvania RR with Superintendent Piper in charge. In 1954, Agent Marshall gave a Christmas party for all Marion children under 12 at the station at noon on Friday. Children rode the train and Santa Claus rode in the cab. Some one hundred were there. It was a success and continued on the last Friday before Christmas until 1958. About two hundred came to the last party.

Newark and Marion Railroad

by John S. Rich

On December 14th 1905, the track was laid to Palmyra Street in the village. The Christian Church held a three-day bazaar and a special train ran from Newark to Marion for this occasion. They rented a coach from the New York Central, and the work engine drew the special back and forth. If you lived in Newark, you could buy, for fifty cents, a round trip ticket to Marion and a roast pork supper. The bazaar was a big success and Marion, at last, had a railroad to connect it to the outside world.

With the completion of the road, the hamlet started to grow. Two cold storages were built, two coal yards, a lumber yard, a vinegar works, 20 new homes, and later, a bank. Some days, 20 carloads of produce would leave town. Sugar beets were grown here, and at times, two cars were loaded a day. Cattle would be shipped in to be fed by farmers during the winter and sold in the spring. It was known for shipping the most freight of any railroads of its length in the United States.

After one storm, no train could go up the Northern Central yards in Newark at night, so the passengers were let off at Willow Ave. or North Main Street as it is known, and all had to walk the mile over to town to the Opera House or ball game. With Curley Clarks, the Langdon house, and the Farmer's Hotel near by the train stop, some never did get over to town, and some never cared to.

The night Marion High played North Rose for the basketball championship in Newark, the Northern Central let the four carloads of fans up in the yards. The fans were on boxcars with crates with planks on them for seats, and a smoky lantern hooked to the roof for light. They had the school band and a goat with North Rose painted on its blanket. After North Rose won, it was nip and tuck whether the goat would get back to Marion, for with North Rose on his blanket, he belonged to them. However, Durf Young rounded up a gang of fellows and took the goat in tow. Marion lost the game, but not the goat, and what a sorry lot of fans steamed up the valley to Marion that night.

Few trains ever passed Jaggers without stopping, for school children got on there and the Jagger home was always an open house to young and old. There was never a place for a better time or better meal.

There was Mander's stop and Mander's cut. It seemed that all the snow in Wayne County piled up in that cut. If Mander's had some livestock in a lower pasture and wanted to take a water tub or pail of salt to them, he would flag the train with a jug of cider in one hand and the salt or tub in the other. We will never know which did the most good; the salt for the cattle, or the cider for the crew. No trains ran on Sunday, so Manders used the tracks for pasture every Sabbath. Gates crossed the tracks and a regular Monday morning job for the crew was opening the gates to let the train past.

Another famous memory is of skating parties at Jaggers woods. Young people would pay a dime for a ride from town to the woods. All would pile out at the stop, a scramble of skates, sweaters, tin dinner pails, and a basket of kindling. Supper would be cooked in an old stump on the ice. Later, the whistle of the train rounding the bend from Newark would send someone scurrying to the track with a burning newspaper torch, while the others tore off their skates and hurried for the baggage car.

Pheasant hunting season found armed men in the baggage car doors watching for birds. When one flew up, all took aim and shot. If one was bagged, the train stopped, backed up, and the lucky man retrieved his catch. Sometimes there was a question of who shot the bird but there was never any argument.

The Mander's cut could be the ruination of any railroad, as it would fill with snow eight feet deep for a quarter of a mile. One night in deep winter when they were bucking the banks, through that cut, a flue burst. Soon, water was killing the fire — no fire meant no steam or motion. Finally, Bud McGraw, the engineer, walked back into the coach and addressed the passengers, "We've got a bad flue, and water is killing the fire. If one of you girls can give me your petticoat, I can plug the hole and we can get into town." No sooner had he spoken than a petticoat was handed up to him. With the help of a poker, the hole was plugged and the train rolled into Marion.

The Peanut Train

by Terry Maclaren

This train seems to have always been a part of my life. I grew up along side this small train track for all of my childhood. On Murray Street in Newark it crossed the street right in front of our house. Every day it seemed to run between the farms and orchards of Marion and the canning factory at the end of Murray Street there in Newark. It was a slow noisy thing with only one SW-1 diesel engine (a little yard engine) and five or six box cars with a caboose on the end. But it was the grandest thing to watch it every day. My grandfather Lloyd Obine worked as a brakeman on that train and I would run out to see it every time it passed to see if I could see him. Every where my family moved to when I was a child that train was there passing by our house. When we moved to West Pearl Street that train was there passing right by the house along the side of the street. I remember getting rides on that train in the caboose between Newark and Marion with Gramps a couple of times and it was one of the most fantastic things I had ever done. Even when we finally settled down to live on the MacLaren family property on Hydesville road that little train was there. It seemed as if it was a part of my life and it was a factor in how I was raised from the very beginning.

Out on Hydesville road those tracks ran right through the middle of the family property and were the dividing line between the yards, gardens, barns and barn yards around the house and the swamps, woods and fields that took up the rest of the farm. The tracks from that train were my guide and a way for me to travel during my wanderings. That small set of tracks was with me for a whole world of adventures and travels. I followed them East to the ice cream shop and my grandparents home and West to play at my friend's farm when we lived on Pearl Street. Those same tracks were my direct line to other friend's homes and the places beyond when I lived on Hydesville road. A whole world of adventures was found along those tracks. Battles were won and lost on the trestle and bridges of those tracks and many nights those same tracks were my guide home after a day or afternoon of fishing, playing games, hunting, snowmobiling, biking, or just exploring along, on, or around those tracks. The trestle over the main NYC lines was a second home during the summer months. we had even built a fort at the base of one of the trestle supports and spent a couple of summers planning how we would camp out there and use those tracks to get into Newark or back to my home when we need to restock on snacks and supplies. I seem to have spent the best summers of my life some where close to that small train's tracks.