This sojourn was more than just exploring an old train. It was also a personal journey back in time.
One hundred years ago, the Illinois Central Railroad started electric commuter service on July 21st 1926. The line ran from Randolph Station in Chicago through Flossmoor, where I grew up, to Matteson. The car pictured below was built by the Pullman Car Company in 1926 and was in service until 1972, when it was replaced by the first double-decker Highliner cars.
These cars are the last two remaining from that fleet of electric passenger cars. They are now part of Illinois Railway Museum’s (IRM) collection in Union, Illinois. I heard that the volunteers at the IRM and others put in a lot of work to transport the cars from the museum to be part of the 100-year celebration at Railroad Days at Pullman National Historical Park. Moving 100-year-old cars on active rail lines is no small matter.
This last Thursday, the four-car consist – the two 1926 cars, a Highliner, which was the replacement for the older cars, and an older street access bi-level was at Randolph Station open for viewing. When I saw the Instagram post earlier in the week from the IRM, I couldn’t believe my luck. What a fun trip. So, Thursday morning, I grabbed a ticket for the Southwest Service in Orland Park to Union Station and hoofed it over to Randolph Station. I found myself on the tail end of Track 6 viewing a couple of cars that disappeared from the rails over 50 years ago and, as it turns out, I have some fond memories of them. The neat part of this trip was that I would view the train from platform level in a station I actually arrived at in these cars, and I could wander through the interiors at my own pace. Unlike many of the other Metra commuter lines, the IC Line boarded from a raised platform that was at passenger level, not from street level, requiring passengers to climb stairs to board.
The personal part? I used to ride these cars with my mother to “run errands” in the city. Most of the important activities were based in the city: our dentist in the Field Annex Building, shopping in Marshall Fields, Hair Salon (for my mother), etc. That was when State Street shopping was a thing. The wicker seats, the stiff, crunchy feeling when sitting, the heavy windows that my mother would warn me away from, and the hand loops at the ends of the cars that looked cool, but how did you use them? And those wonderful cigarette ads right next to public service ads to buy savings bonds. I even remember seeing the engineer, in the summer, running the train with the door open with only a bar across the doorway to keep him in. What a different time.
Seeing these train cars sure brought back a lot of memories of my mother and me traveling by train to the city. Growing up in Flossmoor, I have a fond connection with the Illinois Central Commuter line and the freight line too. I remember many summer nights, going to sleep with the windows open, listening to a freight train pulling out of Markham Yard. The rumble of the 4 or so “Paducah Geeps,” EMD GP10s, straining to get the load moving was like a lullaby to a kid who loved trains. My mother would also tell me stories about how she would travel by train to high school in Hyde Park and that her grandfather, a conductor on the IC line, would keep an eye out for her as well as the other conductors.
The timing of this was rather fortunate, not just for the train-loving part but also for a quote I ran into recently. I follow an Instagram account that, among other posts, presents well-known photographer quotes that tend to speak to the deeper parts of our art. The quote that struck me was from Sally Mann: “Increasingly, the work I’m doing is in service to an idea rather than just to see what something looks like photographed. I’m trying to explore how I feel about something through photography.”
I can appreciate the quote; when I started in photography, 50 years ago, the main motivation was to photograph a thing and see how it turned out. But as I developed as a photographer, I noticed that curiosity was a major part of my photography; curiosity about things, places, and the play of light. As digital came in and exploration and play with images became “free,” I found my curiosity and exploration could be let loose, no film and developing costs to hold me back. But with this digital advantage, I also found that the photography experience sometimes felt empty or meaningless. I would go on a photo sojourn, and I would not have had motivation to photograph when I arrived at a location, or if I did shoot, I would not have much interest in editing or posting the images when I got back… I couldn’t explain why this would happen.
With the quote in mind and an intention to explore Mann’s idea of “how I feel”, not just what I see, I was curious if the images or the experience of photographing was different. I thought this would be a good test of the idea. I had a connection to the subject, and emotions could be right there and of possible value—the short answer: Yes and No.
I did find the directedness of the shoot, from the time I looked up the train departure to begin my trip through to the editing of the final images, to have much more energy and desire for completion than with other photo sojourns. I also have to say that it was fantastic channeling the memories from the past into how I experienced the entire trip. Sitting on the wicker bench, seeing those heavy windows, the smell of the interior, I could almost hear the train taking off from the station. This engagement was not only with the train cars but also with entering and leaving Randolph Station and walking past the Marshall Fields building on the Wabash side, with the L tracks overhead and the trains clattering past. I even considered riding the IC to Flossmoor, instead of returning on the Southwest Service, and having Elise pick me up… I’d have bribed her with Aurelio’s Pizza; that would have worked.
On the uncertain side. Did the feelings make for better images? I sure like the images I created, but I’m not sure they are measurably better. But better images as a starting intention may not be the point for these sojourns. I know my connection to the images is different, and my ability to tell a story around these images is vastly improved. I’m attempting to move from making a single compelling image to telling a compelling story with the images that I make.
This was a very unique trip filled with many points that touch me in ways that are all connected. Not many photo sojourns will have this level of emotional content. So how does this play out for other trips? How does “how I feel” play into image making? It’s a test for sure, and an intentional one, since the muscle for making an image “just to see what something looks like photographed” is well exercised; it kicks in without much intention. Sounds like Dorothea Lange’s advice to Ralph Gibson on reviewing his early imagery: “I see your problem here; you have no point of departure.” A point of departure – Intention, that’s an interesting place to start a sojourn.
Thanks for visiting; I’ve placed two links to the quoted photographers below. Ralph Gibson begins talking about his experience with Lang at about the 6-minute mark, but the whole video is worth watching.
Link to the Instagram post that referenced Sally Mann: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DbDx3C4B3AP/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==
Link to the YouTube video on Ralph Gibson: https://youtu.be/z6UqvMbi4s8?si=ot0paNhKy6aVszCT
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