In my August 10th blog, I discussed the heartbreaking reality of historically priceless images being lost to time forever. Specifically, slides, negatives, and prints that disappear when the photographer passes on. However, once the image is digitized and put on the net, the chances of preservation improve infinitely. Buying the image and not uploading it just moves it from one closet to another.
While looking for something else, I tripped over the fantastic photo above, bought it, and had it scanned. The only information given was the date of June 1972. No location mentioned. Photographer unknown. Note the three very happy faces. If the boys were around age ten at the time, that would make them approaching retirement now. It’s a good guess they still remember that day!
On the left is the cover of the original edition of my book on track plans for a spare room. On the right is the significantly upgraded second edition, which I will release next month.
Restoration is an uplifting concept. Whether it be a car, old photograph, or structure, there is something uniquely satisfying about taking something with “good bones but needs a facelift” and breathing new life into it from the ground up.
It never occurred to me until now, but the same concept applies to books in the form of second editions. Back in 2009, I published 8 Track Plans For a Spare Room. Your typical spare bedroom is the most common footprint I encounter in my job. Clearly, there is a need for plans for this type of space. The concept was sound, but being only my second effort, it was a little rough around the edges. I’ve learned a lot about design, layout construction, and publishing in the seventeen years since.
I’ve taken the first edition and put it in the shop for a total makeover, which includes:
-Four entirely new plans.
-Tweaks and re-designs of most of the original eight plans.
-Increased the page count from 50 to 80.
-Added commentary on space utilization.
On the left is one of the designs from the original book. On the right is the redesign for the second edition. The second version is leaner in terms of turnout count, cleaner overall, and has longer sidings to make operations run more smoothly.
The second edition is finished, but I’m going to wait until summer is over before releasing it (late September probably).
Thanks to Tolga Erbora for bringing this excellent Eric Brown video to my attention. It illustrates the fascinating process of getting long ships up the narrow and winding Miami River.
I remember it like it was yesterday. It was the oddest experience. I’d just landed in Miami and started the day by the Miami River (which is right next to the airport). I stood on the riverbank and was struck by how narrow it was. I then drove to the other side and started shooting the Downtown Spur.
Then the weirdness. Smoothly and silently, a massive structure, a cargo ship the height of a five- or six-story office building, began drifting by. How on earth could something that gigantic get up a river that narrow and with so many twists and turns in it? And then the bigger question: how did they get back out since there was no turning basin at the end? Eric Brown’s video at the lead answers the question. Tugboats pull the ships back out. It’s another case of “only in Miami” and why it makes for such a compelling modeling subject.
This is where I was standing when the “floating building” drifted in front of me. You wouldn’t even know the river was there if you weren’t looking for it.
The bank-to-bank distance at some points is about seventy feet, or perhaps a little less!
Looking northwest up the river. The Downtown Spur is just out of view to the right.
My recent book, Modeling Miami, details my efforts to capture this fascinating theme in miniature.
This photo, taken in front of Antillean Marine, gives a sense of the size of the ships that ply the Miami River.
The Miami River on my layout.
This Miami Vice trailer was filmed on the river behind FP&T at the lift bridge.
An aerial view of the one-mile stretch of the Downtown Spur that parallels the river.
Shown above are the “best practice” guidelines I use for dimensions and spacing on the shelf layouts I build. Guidelines are just that: a starting point.
I generally shoot for a shelf width between 18″ and 22″. Although I do commonly go to two feet if a yard is involved, in most other cases that begins to feel too wide. If you have a stub peninsula extending into the room, you need some width, say 18″ to give you stability.
Once the shelf is in place, work back to front. If you run out of room at the front you can always add a lip or bumpout. However, if you run out of room towards the back you’re stuck.
In my most recent book, I go into depth about the width of background structures and how visually jarring it can be if you go “too thin”. For a one-story structure tight against the backdrop, I shoot for at least four inches of depth.
In HO, you need 1 inch between the track centerline and the face of the structure or loading dock.
In yards I set track spacing at two inches. However, for spurs I widen that up to 2.5″ to 3″.
I allow three to four inches between the fascia and the front track. My thinking is that if you have a derailment, this distance gives you at least some insurance against things falling to the floor.
Sample bench work widths I’ve used in the past:
CNW Alco Line: 22″ in most locations. 25″ in yard areas.
Downtown Spur: 20″
East Rail 2: 19″
LAJ: 20″ and 13″ respectively.
I misjudged the bench work width I would need on East Rail. Simply screwing a 1×2 to the fascia gave me the necessary depth I needed.
Bumpouts are an easy way to create a platform for an industry without increasing the bench work width for the entire layout.
Overhead view of East Rail 2. Notice that I don’t use paper-thin background flats.
I picked up this spectacular gem of an image on eBay for a surprisingly nominal sum. I then had it scanned, uploaded it to Flickr, and made it available to all for download. By doing so, its existence is safeguarded for the foreseeable future.
It was an all-too-common scenario, and just heartbreaking. One of the most prolific and talented photographers of all time was Don Sims, who passed away recently in his 90s. I mean, this guy had LAJ mindblowing action shots from the 60s that nobody else did. That was just a fraction of his portfolio. Out of curiosity, I wondered where his collection was now. I took it for granted that something of that significance was safely parked in a library somewhere. I googled and googled. Nothing. Odd. Next, I put a post on the SoCal FB Railfan group. Surely they’d know. Nope. Several people commented that they had wondered the same, had done similar digging, and also come up dry. The collection probably still exists, but it could be very well in an attic of a relative that really doesn’t have the background to know its relevance. A decade from now, there is a high risk it will be inadvertently discarded.
I have had a number of friends of similar skill who have passed recently. Their work is historically priceless and at high risk of being lost to time. An equal number are heading towards the end of the road. Amazing work. No preservation plan.
Transferring my collection of 1000 Kodachrome slides to plastic sleeves makes them easier to access and view quickly. The red folder contains a descriptive log of each photo.
Back in the late 1970s, as a member of the Indiana University Railfan club, I traveled the entire eastern US with skilled photographers at my side. By the time I moved away to college, I’d amassed one thousand Kodachrome slides. They were safely and neatly packed in metal slide boxes. I’d also written a log containing written descriptions of each shot. I was well aware that I had them. What I didn’t realize, until I pulled them this week, was the breathtaking quality. In almost every shot, a veteran railfan was next to me telling me where to stand, what aperature to use, how to bracket. I discarded the bad ones and ended up with a box of great stuff.
If I were to get hit by a meteor on my way to my car some night, realistically everything in those boxes would be lost. Nobody will have the experience or desire to preserve them. But any image that’s digitized AND uploaded to a public site is essentially safe forever.
Dealing with a thousand images is an overwhelming thought. For now, my strategy is to take a handful of these images and eBay purchases, and have my local scanning service digitize them. A reputable scanning service (and there are many disreputable services out there) will charge between five and eight dollars for a hi-res TIFF image coming in at a whopping 100MB or more. My service (Moto Photo in Bethesda, MD) has a special email/download portal which makes things easy.
When the sorting was done, I had three binders of roughly 330 slides each. I have no immediate plans to scan all of them, but over time, I will identify the real standouts and digitize them.
Once I have the digital images, I resize them to about 5MB and then upload them to my Flickr page. I’ve tagged them for free download. There is some controversy about making your files available to all. True, there are a few knuckleheads out there who might use them without credit, but they are very, very rare. I’d rather focus on passing information onto the 99.9 percent of good people out there than assume the “mine,mine,mine” stance as protection against the other .1 percent.
When you go to the pearly gates, it’s not like you can take them with you. I can see it now: I’m in front of St. Peter making my case for admittance. What’s he going to say? “Lance, your past behavior makes you a borderline candidate for walking through these pearly gates but….since you have that great shot of pusher units on Horsehoe Curve that tips the scales in your favor. You’re in.” Doubt it. The more people that have your shots, the more likely they’ll be preserved for the long term.
