When Sussex County life moved by rail

| 21 Feb 2012 | 11:05

    FRANKLIN — Long ago, when automobiles were scarce and modern technology even scarcer, there were trains. And in Franklin, where mining was king, those trains were crucial to a town's commerce and lifestyle. That much and more was accentuated by historian Bill Truran, who gave a presentation entitled "Trains & Telegraph" at the Sussex County Library system's Franklin branch last week. Appearing in the dress of the day (circa 1910), replete with suspenders, bow tie, black bowler hat, black suit and black garters on his sleeves, Truran brought home the importance of both trains and the telegraph equipment that people such as his great uncle Dick Garrity (1910-1993) helped operate. "They were extremely important because at that time, there were basically no automobiles," explained Truran in reference to the time period between 1880 and 1915. "And around that time, people would be lucky to get off their own farms. The kids of Franklin, even into the twenties, would have to get on the train and go to school in Newton." While they are almost completely gone, the train tracks that accommodated regional lines such as the Sussex Railroad and the famed Lehigh and Hudson River Railway — for whom Garrity worked — were in, under and around the area where the Franklin viaduct still stands. There were also a few train stations where telegraph operators such as Garrity performed the critical duties of receiving and coordinating information from other trains passing through to avoid catastrophes like head-on crashes. Morse Code, named after Samuel F.B. Morse, made its debut on May 24, 1844, and for six decades relied on networks of overhead wires. In 1906, Guglielmo Marconi perfected wireless telegraphy, but the telegraph operator's job didn't change. Operators such as Garrity began by writing and deciphering an incoming message on yellow paper. Tearing off the top layer of the message pad — with carbon copies underneath — the message was placed on a bamboo hoop some four feet high, making it possible for an incoming train conductor to grab the written copy. Some messages, Truran said, could include warnings such as "H-o-l-d t-r-a-i-n i-n F-r-a-n-k-l-i-n o-n s-i-d-e" until other trains could pass through. The post was manned round-the-clock by three different shifts. Technology turned wireless telegraphy into broadcast radio by 1920, and by the 1960s, radio finally made telegraphy obsolete, Truran said. The last commercial telegraph was sent in 1966, by which time Franklin's need for stations and stationmasters had ended, not only because of automobiles and radio, but also because of the closing of the Franklin mines on Sept. 30, 1954. Since ore was the primary commodity shipped by train out of Franklin and on to Palmerton, Pa. — where the zinc and iron ore could be smelted—the need for the trains had waned greatly. Moreover, cars and other motorized vehicles had long since become the primary mode of travel. The lone track still in place from those years is located in the area near the former New Jersey Zinc Co. land owned by developer Anthony Patire. The main freight line running through that spur belongs to the New York Susquehanna & Western Railway, Truran said. The station houses are gone in Franklin, but Truran, when asked to illustrate what it would have been like during the age when the train was king, described it in poetic terms. "The 1880s and 1890s might have been, in this area, the golden age of trains," Truran stated. "And what a sight it was for farm boys used to nothing but buckboards, to see a giant train coming through with smoke billowing upwards, and the screech of steel wheels."