Somewhere in storage in the USA, I have photos and the newspaper articles. I think I was 5 or 6 years old when the engine arrived at Vonachan’s Junction. That would place the arrival at the restaurant about 1966 or 1967. Pete Vonachan sold the engine some time in the early 1970s.

Years later I worked in one of Pete’s many businesses. In some quiet time I asked how he could have parted with such a unique item. He said that of all things he ever owned, that was the one thing that he loved and hated. It was a constant worry. Kids were always vandalizing it. It was never painted to his satisfaction. It bothered him that he could not spend the time to keep it in good shape. So in the end, selling it to people who could take better care of it was the right thing to do. (Several years later Pete would build a baseball club that gave him much more grief and satisfaction.)

My family was good friends with Pete Vonachen at the time the locomotive arrived. He knew how much I loved locomotives. Every time we ate at the restaurant, Pete would unlock the loco and let my brother and I walk around on it. But, we had to stay out of the tender, because there was deep hole with sharp jagged edges in the coal bin. It was always night when we visited, but I remember enough rust holes in the tender that there was no way any of the rain or snow melt could ever accumulate.

At some point in time Pete decided that it was just better to give my father the key. I would pepper everyone in ear shot with detailed questions about the function of every single part on the locomotive. Pete couldn’t answer all the questions. (“What’s the difference between Russian iron and plain iron and we are not friends with the Russians so why would we buy iron from them and what ever happened to the iron, did it rust, and why not use stainless steel?” I remember this was the question that got an answer of “Gawd! Ask your father, kid.”) Besides, Pete was building an empire and needed to be attending to other business. It also got my father outside, instead of glad handing everyone that came through the door. (Back in those days, it seemed like my parents knew everyone in the city.)

Fortunately, my father spent a lot of time in the Chillicothe ATSF round house as a boy and young man helping out before the war. So, he had a fairly good knowledge of locomotives. Unfortunately, it put in my mind that it was possible to build a 1.6” live steam model. I promised myself that I would build it before I am 50. There is not a day that goes by that I do not remember that promise and 50 is coming up too soon.

A hand car and I think an enclosed speeder remained on the display track in front of the main building until the mid 1980s. The restaurant went through many owners since Pete. None of them cared about railroading like Pete. The building gradually lost all of the unique items. Pete salvaged many and has distributed them to local museums.

Today, the 2 coaches are really all that remains of the railroad theme. The TP&W president’s business car was properly refurbished in the 1990s. It is still in good shape and is a favorite place for dining. The interior is especially nice, with minimal modifications to accommodate the restaurant. The other is an IC observation coach. The outside is good, but the guts were stripped a long time ago to allow large party seating. Our family (my smaller side) holds re-unions there.

I married a girl who lived 8 houses from the restaurant. We visit her mother very frequently. No matter how many times I drive by the restaurant, day or night, I still see Locomotive 201 sitting in front of Vonachan’s Junction in 1969 with the headlight on, glowing a warm welcome to my father, brother and me…and always will.