In part 1 of this series we examined the layout of the railroad in Spring Valley, and how the branch line extended from its connection with the main line at Woodville through Spring Valley and then Elmwood to Westby. In this article I would like to share my recollections of the depot in Spring Valley.

As I mentioned in part 1, my grandfather, Cassius Pence, came to Spring Valley in 1902 as the depot agent for the railroad. I was born much too late to see him in that role, but early enough that the depot was very much a part of the background against which I grew up in Spring Valley. It was still there when I returned from military service in 1959, but the trains had ceased to run. It was not long before the rails were torn up and the depot was torn down, and replanted to mobile homes. My, how times change.

Illustration 1 - My recollection of the Spring Valley Depot

Illustration 1 pictures the depot from the Northwest corner. Our tour will start by walking through the door on that corner. There was another just like it directly across the “lobby” (the ticketing and waiting room), so one could enter from the Northeast corner also. We’ll walk our way south from the “lobby”, through the depot agent’s office, the cargo bay, out onto the platform and down the ramps.

Illustration 2 – Floor Plan of the Spring Valley Depot

The “lobby” was well lighted naturally through four large windows. It contained heavy wooden “pews” and a potbellied stove that burned coal, of course. The south wall contained the ticket window where you could buy a ticket to ride the train, and a door on the east side of the room to enter the depot agent’s office.

That room and the ticketing window in earlier times was a busy place. I have an interesting story or two to tell about my grandparents and my dad concerning that time, but it will have to wait for a later series of articles. By the time I was growing up, the railroads were concentrating on cargo and letting their passenger commerce dwindle to a shadow of its former volume in the face of competition from other modes of transportation.

My dad, Rex, said that the railroads did that because there was more money and fewer headaches with transporting goods than people, and they had a natural advantage in efficiently moving large volumes of goods overland with the flanged wheel on a rail. That was soon to be challenged by the trucking industry, but when I was growing up there were still plenty of goods that came and went via rail.

Upon walking through the door into the depot agent’s office, one could see the desk and “pigeonholes” on the wall for filing documents. The telegrapher’s key, a railroad agent’s main tool, was on the desk. In the illustrations you can see a cupola jutting out on the west side of the building. This extension of the depot agent’s office allowed him a view up and down the tracks within the railroad marshalling area (where the trailer park is today).

As long as we are in the depot agent’s office, here is a story from Susan (Davis) Hanson about one of the agents. If you knew Rex Eakins, you can really appreciate this:

“as kids we were warned not to hang around the station or the tracks in case there were bums who had ridden the rails into town.  Were there really bums, or was that a parental tactic to keep us kids away from a dangerous place?

“Former station agent and telegrapher Rex Eakins told this story at a church gathering 20 years or more ago.  I have never forgotten it.  It is a good story, and Rex was a good storyteller.  This may be the 100th time you've heard it, or it may be a new one for you.  Here goes:

“Rex was on a trip far away from home (Texas? Arizona?), and he took a chance on eating in a diner in a small town.  It turned out to be a good place to eat, and as he sat at the counter waiting for his meal and knowing no one to talk to, he took his spoon and tapped out in Morse code on his water glass something like, "This is really a nice, clean restaurant." 

“Wonder of wonders, a man at the other end of the counter tapped back, "Yes, it is.  I always eat here when I'm in town."  Rex responded, and they had an entire conversation in Morse code while they ate their meals.

“When Rex got up to leave, he approached the other fellow and shook his hand.  The other guy said, "It was nice visiting with you."  Those were the only spoken words passed between the two men.

This story is lacking Rex's voice, mannerisms and timing, but I hope it is something you would like to add to your SV railroad lore.”

John Kirk also remembers Rex’s artistic touch on the key:

“The only depot agent I remember was Rex Eakins. He was always a friendly guy to us kids and we enjoyed visiting the depot and seeing all the baggage and watching him send messages by telegraph. Never could figure out how that Morse code worked.”

It was a second language, to be sure. I learned it and used it in the Navy, but I’m sure none of us could hold a candle to Rex in that skill.

As I said, the depot was a split-level structure. The split took place at the south wall (back wall) of the agent’s office. If, upon entering the office from the waiting room, you were to walk straight back you would encounter a set of wooden stairs and a door leading up to the “cargo bay”. This was the secure storage area for goods offloaded from boxcars. It was elevated to be on a level with the floor of the boxcars, and of course the platform was used to accommodate loading and offloading. It had a large sliding door for easy access from the boxcar across the narrow platform to the cargo area. That part of the platform was also under the extended roof, so work could continue in inclement weather.

The depot platform extended along the cargo area on the east side of the building (other side in illustration 1 – not shown). The platform of course facilitated the loading and unloading of the boxcars parked on the sidetrack on that side of the building (see track layout in part 1 – The Layout). The track was very close to the platform there, but there was still a small gap. The solution to that problem was heavy steel plates of boxcar door width that were laid down to bridge the gap. These were left on the platform when not in use, and we kids used to like to lift them up on edge and let them fall. The metal bang that reverberated between the hills was our reward. My, how times really do change.

The narrow part of the platform just mentioned had a ramp to the ground on its north end. That was a source of joy to many kids on bicycles. In the other direction, beyond the south end of the building, was the rest of the platform. It was wide enough to accommodate machinery of various kinds, and it had a full width ramp to the ground on its south end. During floods, people drove their cars up this ramp onto the platform to escape the water. It was quite sturdy and capable of handling heavy machinery, so cars were no problem.

I recall the time that the railroad lost my dad’s business to the trucking industry. He had up until that time received shipments of appliances and other goods for his Marshall Wells hardware store via the railroad. It got to a point where C & L Trucking (out of the Twin Cities, I think) was price competitive, and they delivered right to the back door of his store. The order to delivery turnaround was also better. The trucking industry had become cost effective for small businesses such as his, and much more convenient. It was a sign of the times for the railroad in Spring Valley and across the nation.

He later bought out the Skelly franchise and ran that business for a number of years. Bulk fuel and oil deliveries were made by rail, and that is why his storage tanks, as well as those of other dealers in town, were located along the rail bed. Towards the end, however, he was taking delivery to those tanks via tanker trucks from the Williams hub in South St. Paul. He could get the fuel much faster that way, and it was worth the small extra cost to get it on short notice. Once again the trucking industry caught up with the railroads.

The living throbbing organism of commerce that was the railroad and was so important to Spring Valley and Elmwood in their youth was coming to an end for our towns.

In part 3 of this series I’ll have a few stories to tell about pranks by us kids, and by the railroad crews. Keep an eye out for The Railroad in Spring Valley, Part 3 – Odds and Ends coming down the track soon.

The Spring Valley Kid

Russell Pence

pence@asu.edu