Remnants of the Pocahontas

by The Raging Blue Flame

The men who built her, care for her, and put her through the paces will try to be casual when they refer to her as a 'J' - - that's her class. But you know from the expressions on their faces and the tones of their voices that they think of her, like you will, as the smartest, most fascinating thing that will ever hit Norfolk and Western rails!

1. Prologue

Ironhorse… Phoenix… Thoroughbred… Queen of Steam, Spirit of Roanoke… The East Coast Bitch...

I have many names, some not very nice but only few I actually identify with. I am no queen, though I appreciate the title. I am no workhorse, though I've been worked like one. I am a locomotive, a steam engine, the most powerful passenger engine in the world. I am the sole survivor of my class, the lone example of what a railway can do when they stick to conservative values and work within their own means.

I have died, only to come back only to perish once more and come back. Like a phoenix, but one that constantly resurrects within a cage. My life has always been decided for me, whether I agreed or not. From the moment I awoke within the Roanoke Shops my path had be drawn and paved for me. Like many other high-end passenger engines, my sisters and I were treated like royalty, the reality and inner workings of the world were kept secret. An engine cannot perform her duties if she's too busy worrying about the day she'll meet the cutting torch. On the Norfolk and Western, steam was king. Where young, Northern princesses giggle and gossip as they dream of the day their princes will arrive, and for some they did. Where the diesel was a common peasant, laughed at as it struggled to get up even the simplest of hills. Even now, in the 21st century we are held in such high regard.

Railfans young and old would enter Castle "Virginia Museum of Transportation" to reminisce with me about yesteryear. How they'd see my sisters run up, down, and through the mountains of the Appalachians, our smaller-than-average 70" drivers spinning wildly as massive valve gear and rods propelled us forward. I'm both amused and surprised by how much people appear to know about me and roots. For the record I am, and always will a southern girl raised in world of glitter and glamour. Though I am far from dainty, I can pretend to be well-mannered. I guess that's why I was the way I was growing up. I had no control of my life, but the outsiders didn't need to know that. All they needed to know that crossing me would result in a missing tender, unaware of the girl with everything to lose, doing her best to impress while maintaining her own identity.

And now as the black, gold, and Tuscan Red-painted phoenix rises from her ashes a third time, the doors open to another uncertain future. The clouds crumbling to the sun's rays as it shines.

It's my birthday today and I'm ready to go back home. I wouldn't have remembered if everyone hadn't been raving to me about it. I won't tell you my age though, a lady never does! But I'll tell you one thing, I ain't no old woman! It may have been 20 years, but I still know how to work the rails, I can bend the coaches and freight cars to my will. They won't be pushing me around if they know what's good for them. You should have seen those old, oversized switch diesels back at the Spencer event, trembling in fear as if they'd seen the devil himself!

Heh… maybe they did?

With the clanking of the air compressors and the hiss of steam, my bell dings and my whistle sounds off as I leave my temporary home. I am eager to prove my worth once more. I won't fail like before, there will not be a repeat of what happened in 1994, I forbid it. I'll show Norfolk Southern that retiring me had been mistake. I'll make my sisters proud and bring back the honor and respect once bestowed upon my class, you'll see!