(The following story by Darrin Youker appeared at readingeagle.com on December 8, 2008)
Port Clinton, PA – Walking into the board room of the Reading and Northern Railroad, a visitor’s eyes instinctively drift to the ceiling.
Twelve feet overhead, an artist has painted a sweeping map of Pennsylvania. On it, Reading and Northern’s 315-mile rail system takes center stage.
Classic railroad sounds – grinding metal wheels on rails, the low rumble of powerful engines – fill the windowed board room, which has a commanding view of the company’s main rail yards in this Schuylkill County community. Dozens of coal hoppers and engines lie in wait on the company’s feeder tracks.
From an unassuming start 25 years ago, the Reading and Northern has grown into a sizable regional railroad, and one of the area’s main freight haulers. It started as a tiny railroad, serving five companies between Temple and Hamburg, but now controls an eight-county region.
“We are the largest privately held railroad in the commonwealth, said Wayne A. Michel, president of the railroad. “We are a huge engine of economic development.”
Reading and Northern’s Port Clinton offices are an homage to the region’s rich railroad heritage.
Built by Andrew Muller, the Hamburg native who started and still owns the railroad, the railroad’s offices resemble an old-fashioned train station. Brick walkways and replica gaslights paint the picture of railroading’s heydays.
Reading and Northern, in many ways, is traveling on rails steeped in history. Nearly half of its lines were once owned by the famed Reading Co., including the anthracite lines that helped build the Reading into the largest company in the world.
And philosophically, the Reading and Northern is run much like the Reading – investing money and resources into the region’s rail network, said Philip Smith, a Bern Township native who wrote “Images of Rail: Reading Trains and Trolleys.”
And over time, the company has built a solid network through smart investment and by taking care of employees, Smith said.
“They are in it for the long haul,” he said. “They are very much like the Reading Railroad.”
The railroad that Muller built has grown substantially from the first track between Temple and Hamburg. Several expansions brought in large chunks of territory, including lines once owned by the Reading Co.
On a recent afternoon, engineer Richard Bader and conductor Michael Kohl were working on some of those old Reading lines.
Behind the controls of engine 2004, Bader and Kohl jockeyed cars in a Pottsville yard before making the 45-minute journey back to the Port Clinton headquarters.
Like many of the more than 100 employees who work at Reading and Northern, Bader and Kohl are living their dreams of working on a railroad.
“I wouldn’t want to go back to working in an industrial setting,” said Bader, who’s worked for the railroad for 21 years. “I like the freedom of being outside.”
From the moment it’s turned on, engine 2004 is alive with sound.
The engine, like the rest of Reading and Northern’s fleet, runs on diesel power. Even at idling speed, the massive engine shutters and rumbles like low thunder. Air breaks hiss and whine as the weighty machine grinds to a stop.
As the train pulls away from a stop, the cab fills with the shrill sound of metal wheels grinding against metal rails. And as it reaches running speed, the steady clacking made by running over the rails begins to sound like a horse at gallop.
Kohl, of Muhlenberg Township, was equally drawn by the chance to get out of the large warehouse he was working in.
“I always wanted to get back to working outside,” Kohl said. “It is one of the best moves I ever made.”
The view from their office is incomparable.
The tracks between Pottsville and Port Clinton hug the banks of the Schuylkill River. The trees have shed their leaves, opening up the view in the woods.
The train’s appearance in places like Auburn draws curious stares from people standing in their backyards, and kids walking home from school. Bader announces the train’s arrival with a few toots from the air horn.
Even on a brisk late autumn day, Bader and Kohl travel with the windows open.
“We are running up and down the river valley,” Bader said. “You see things you never get to see.”