Name This Peoria Landmark

It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry

Well, I ride on a mailtrain, baby,
Can’t buy a thrill.
Well, I’ve been up all night, baby,
Leanin’ on the window sill.
Well, if I die
On top of the hill
And if I don’t make it,
You know my baby will.

Don’t the moon look good, mama,
Shinin’ through the trees?
Don’t the brakeman look good, mama,
Flagging down the “Double E”?
Don’t the sun look good
Goin’ down over the sea?
Don’t my gal look fine
When she’s comin’ after me?

Now the wintertime is coming,
The windows are filled with frost.
I went to tell everybody,
But I could not get across.
Well, I wanna be your lover, baby,
I don’t wanna be your boss.
Don’t say I never warned you
When your train gets lost.

According to John & Odat, this train used to sit on N Rock Island Ave in Glen Oak Park, and then near the entrance to Detweiller Golf Course, before finally finding a permanent home at Wheels O’ Time Museum on North Knoxville.

The Train is the known as the Rock Island #886, but in actuality it is #887 with a new paint job.

It is one of only two or three Rock Island steam locomotives ever saved from the scrapper and donated to a city, Peoria being the lucky recipient. Actually it is not the original 886, because when the Rock Island was all set to donate it, they realized that they has already scrapped it, but luckily they still had a sister engine, 887. The Rock Island simply repainted and renumbered it to 886.

More history of this train courtesy of the Chillicothe Historical Society:

Engine 886, a steam 4-6-2 Pacific type was fired by Swede Allstram and engineered by N.N. Brown and Ray Vonk. Both Swede and Ray were from Chillicothe and they were known far and wide for the way they handled their train. The train itself carried a crew of 2 brakemen, Len Roberts and Joe Carroll and the conductor, Joe Sales.

Engineers wore striped overalls and starched white caps. Firemen wore blue caps and red bandannas around their neck, supposedly for emergency flagging.

When 886 came around the Rome curve, you could hear the wheels squealing, as the track was banked to allow a full 65-mile per hour speed limit. Swede, the fireman, chained himself in the cab with a ten-inch wide leather belt/harness and shoveled coal from Peoria to Bureau Junction, and back.

The train made the trip from Peoria to Bureau in 50 minutes and speeds would reach over 75 miles per hour over the straight sections of track. Merle Bradley claimed it was the fastest steam engine run in America at that time. Stops were made in Chillicothe, Sparland and Henry.

Thanks to all who commented.

Across The Tracks Blues

Kate Says: WTVP, 101 State Street

I think you all know the story, so there’s no need to rehash it here. If you don’t, you’ve been living in a cave. Google it.

Also known as VOP’s, located at 5934 N. Knoxville Ave.

Some history courtesy of Historic Peoria.com:

During a review of the land on which VOPs now stands, researchers discovered that the location was very close to that of Keller Station, the first stop out of Peoria on the Rock Island Line. In 1927, after nearly 45 years in operation, the Station was sold for $20 and torn down soon thereafter. Once called Vonachen’s Junction, VOPs was built by Pete Vonachen and reopened under its new name in 1979. The restaurant is an integral part of Junction City, a shopping center constructed to recreate the feel of old-time Keller Station.

Patrons have the option of dining in either a banquet room, a caboose bar or in the Executive Car, a retired railcar of T.P.&W that had once been used by past presidents of the railroad. The car, which was built in 1890, was refurbished in the old railroad theme and given to the Junction in 1957.

A little more history from commenter John:

The rail cars were placed there in the mid 50’s. Pete moved his office out of the basement into the back car so as to make room for a private dining room in the basement of the main building. I sold him the safe for the office and he had it welded into the car. This would have been about 1959.

Is it just me or does anyone else see the irony in the current owner of Junction City wanting to discontinue rail service on the Kellar Branch it’s track’s ripped out?

(Congrats, Burl, it’s been a while, but you got another one.)

Thumbs up to James, Floyd & Jen. This is the former Taco Bell, Chicago Grill, General’s Fish & Chicken and soon to be Cash2Go Payday Loan Scam Store at the corner of Sterling and Forrest Hill.

Great, now I have to update my Payday Loan video.

Willie York Slept Here.

Well, I don’t really know if Willie York ever slept here, nor do I really know anything about this building other than it had sat vacant as long as I can recall, but sadly is now gone. It seems odd that I would have such affection for a boarded up building, but I did, as it was quite unique.

This is not my photo. It was borrowed from the Ecology of Abscence Blog and this is how it was described:

When I went to Peoria over the weekend, this building was gone. (This photograph dates to June 2005.) The commercial building stood on Moss Avenue just east of Western Avenue, on the south side of the street. Several characteristics were remarkable:

- The building was built entirely of concrete block made to look like rusticated limestone.

- The building formed a flatiron shape even though it did not sit on a flatiron lot. The shape was necessitated instead by topography. Behind the building, the land dropped off so severely that the flatiron was about all that could be built on this site. as the raised sidewalk suggests, things aren’t so great on the other side.

I liked this building because it defied the odds. This site is not “buildable” by contemporary standards; it may not have been even back in the early twentieth century when the building was built. Yet someone wanted to develop this lot, probably spurred on by Peoria’s density. When a city has a strong downtown, people build anywhere they can get in and around that downtown. Even odd lots get built out. Contrast that with today’s American urban environments, where many developers won’t even build on lots 25 feet wide by 120 feet deep. Once, land was scarce and building space abundant — now the formula is inverted. It seems that along with abdundant building space went abundant civic pride. People who don’t value land and make the most of its scarcity don’t build — or steward — great cities.

No doubt the little concrete flatiron fell prey to our perverse size mentality. People probably considered it too small for commercial use, and lacking the “yard” needed for residential. The building went empty and then it was demolished. I’ll bet that the lot remains vacant forever.

According to commenter Josh Harris, the building was torn down because of safety concerns after a fire. Incidentally, if you’re not sure what a ‘flatiron’ building is, this wikipedia entry will make it perfectly clear.

Do not back into this sign.

I wonder if the voter approved 35 Million Dollar Library upgrades include new parking lot signage? As does Gary, I also wonder why you can’t back into a parking spot? Seems sorta silly to me.