[gentle orchestral fanfare]

 

 

[resonant strings
lead building orchestration]

 

 

(male narrator)
Welcome to "Our State,"

 

a production of UNC-TV

 

in association
with "Our State" magazine--

 

for over 70 years,

 

bringing the wonders
of North Carolina

 

to readers across the state.

 

On this edition,

 

riding the rails--

 

see the state
from a vantage point

 

not too many
get to see these days...

 

a visit with a man
well-positioned

 

to be
the chief advocate

 

of mule power...

 

and an amazing
museum

 

devoted
to preserving

 

the early days
of radio.

 

 

[gentle piano melody]

 

(male announcer)
From Manteo to Murphy

 

and all the small towns
and big cities in-between,

 

BB&T believes opportunity lives
everywhere in North Carolina.

 

It's a belief we've held
for more than 130 years

 

and guides us
as we support our communities

 

from the mountains
to the coast.

 

We love calling
North Carolina home,

 

and we're proud to provide
major funding for "Our State."

 

Quality public television
is made possible

 

through the financial
contributions

 

of viewers like you,

 

who invite you to join them
in supporting UNC-TV.

 

 

[steam hissing]

 

[train horn blowing]

 

[engine chugging slowly]

 

[harmonica leads as percussion
imitates train engine]

 

 

(male narrator)
In the memories of adults
of a certain age

 

and plenty of today's
children, for that matter,

 

there is the image
of a steam train...

 

with all of its noise
and wonder,

 

huffing and puffing
across the landscape.

 

[horn sounding]

 

Steam trains are part of
America's collective memory.

 

They are powerful symbols
of our country's history...

 

of our progress,
past and present...

 

 

because their diesel offspring
remain hard at work today,

 

pulling trains throughout
North Carolina's

 

intricate web of rails.

 

[train tracks clacking softly]

 

Even now,
when we see an engine

 

laboring up a steep grade,

 

our response to trains
remains a bit mysterious,

 

cloaked in reminiscence,

 

perhaps connecting us
for just an instant

 

to what we perceive
as a more easygoing,

 

more comprehensible time--

 

although it wasn't
necessarily an easier time

 

because whole towns

 

in the 19th
and early 20th centuries

 

either thrived or did not,

 

depending on where the tracks
were or were not laid.

 

The actual towns like
Lexington and Thomasville,

 

all of 'em that are dotted
along the railroad out here,

 

were actually called
"tank towns."

 

If you look on the map,
they're spaced

 

about 20, 25 miles apart,

 

and they would
just simply supply

 

coal and water
for steam engines.

 

[gentle guitar theme]

 

 

(narrator)
Today, we count
ourselves fortunate

 

to even be around trains
and railroad memorabilia,

 

like during the Rail Days
event each June

 

at Spencer Shops
near Salisbury.

 

[harmonica joins]

 

[machinery whirring]

 

[bell clanging]

 

(narrator)
It's early morning

 

at the North Carolina
Transportation Museum,

 

located on what was once
the Southern Railway's

 

largest steam locomotive
repair facility,

 

now operated by the Department
of Cultural Resources.

 

Today, diesel engine
No. 6133 emerges

 

from Spencer Shops'
huge roundhouse.

 

 

First stop is the yard's
trusty old turntable.

 

 

The aged engine is lined up
to the correct track

 

and sent off
on another day's work,

 

pulling its relatively
light load

 

of vintage passenger cars.

 

 

Southern Railway No. 6133,

 

all 16 cylinders
and 1500 horsepower,

 

was born in 1950.

 

At mid-century,

 

the American outlook
was strong.

 

By then, the efficiency
and speed of diesel

 

had almost completely
eclipsed steam.

 

And compared to the ancient
pufferbellies...

 

(boy)
I already know
to get on the train!

 

(narrator)
...diesel engines seemed,

 

well, sleek and modern.

 

(man over radio)
OK, 6133, turn north.

 

[horn blowing]

 

[steam hissing]

 

(boy)
We're moving! We're moving!

 

(narrator)
After three decades
of hard work,

 

most of it on small
North Carolina branch lines,

 

6133 had earned her rest

 

and was donated
to the museum in 1980.

 

[locomotive couplings clanking]

 

 

[horn sounding]

 

 

(narrator)
The old engine
has been restored

 

a couple of times
and continues to pull trains

 

of appreciative guests
through the museum's 57 acres.

 

 

There are other opportunities

 

to ride the rails
in North Carolina...

 

[train roaring]

 

thanks to Amtrak's
regular passenger service.

 

(Mann)
Amtrak has, uh,

 

both long-distance
and corridor service

 

in North Carolina.

 

Our long-distance trains
are the "Silver Star,"

 

which operates between New York
and Tampa and Miami,

 

making stops
in North Carolina along the way.

 

Of course, we have
the two corridor trains.

 

The "Piedmont"
operates locally

 

between Charlotte
and Raleigh.

 

The "Carolinian" is Charlotte
and New York via Raleigh.

 

(narrator)
Some cities, like Greensboro,

 

still enjoy
daily passenger service.

 

The city has retained
and restored

 

the architectural appeal
of its station--

 

a style that has
all but disappeared

 

from the landscape.

 

All aboard!

 

[upbeat snare paces
flowing orchestral strings]

 

(conductor over loudspeaker)
Our next station
is High Point.

 

(narrator)
Nearby High Point, too,

 

has made a similar push
to restoration.

 

 

(woman)
Thank you, sir.

 

(narrator)
And other cities
are inspired to do the same,

 

with an eye toward the day

 

when passengers once again
crisscross our state.

 

(Mann)
I think corridor trains
are very important,

 

and that's where we're
seeing our biggest growth.

 

As gas prices get higher,

 

and congestion
clogs the highways,

 

and--and flying in those

 

three-to five-hundred-miles
corridors becomes

 

less and less convenient,
more and more folks

 

are looking at rail
as a viable alternative.

 

[bell dinging]

 

Watch your step
down, sir.

 

[distant train horn
wailing]

 

(narrator)
Of course,
North Carolina tracks

 

carry rail freight
into every corner

 

of the Tar Heel state,

 

thanks to private carriers

 

that traverse its more than
3,600 miles of track.

 

And business is booming.

 

(man on radio)
Y'all have a safe trip.

 

Pull on ahead,
please sir; over.

 

(narrator)
On a foggy spring morning,

 

a 100-car coal train
pulls out of Asheville.

 

 

(engineer)
Each car holds about

 

three tractor-trailer
loads of coal.

 

It means we're--
we're heavy;

 

we been loadin'
all we can load.

 

 

(narrator)
Two sets of engines
are required to pull

 

and sometimes push

 

the long train
up to Ridgecrest.

 

[cars clanking]

 

 

There, the engineer
stops the train

 

and balances his heavy load

 

across the crest
of the mountain,

 

while the brakes
are checked and adjusted

 

for the long,
slow descent.

 

 

It's only three miles
to Old Fort,

 

as the crow flies,

 

but the oh-so-cautious
journey down the mountain

 

covers 13 miles...

 

[horn blaring]

 

goes through
7 tunnels...

 

 

and takes more
than 45 minutes.

 

 

In places, the train
doubles back on itself,

 

so you can not only see
where you're going,

 

but where you've been.

 

[brakes screeching]

 

When the train finally reaches
relatively flat land,

 

you can almost hear it
sigh with relief

 

as a generous volume
of smoke pours from the brakes.

 

[brakes screeching]

 

 

On the way down, a
jubilant geyser off to the left

 

vaults itself
into the fresh mountain air

 

as if to celebrate

 

the train's
successful descent,

 

flowing, as it used to
in the late 19th century,

 

when there was a grand hotel
at that spot

 

for the enjoyment
of train passengers--

 

built, unfortunately, a little
too close to the tracks,

 

where cinders
from a steam engine

 

set it on fire and burned it
to the ground in 1903.

 

[19th-century piano tune]

 

What is known today
as "Andrews Geyser" remains,

 

and is as much a part
of Old Fort

 

as their old depot.

 

[train horn blows
as bell rings]

 

(narrator)
Nowadays, even electronics
gets into railroading...

 

[beeping]

 

[clanking]

 

especially
at Norfolk Southern's

 

Spencer classification yard,

 

or "hump yard,"
as it's known,

 

in Linwood.

 

It's called a "hump
yard" because of the large hill

 

built in the center,

 

with tracks sloping
in every direction.

 

[rail cars squealing]

 

Cars from arriving trains
are pushed up the hump,

 

then decoupled,

 

rolled down the incline
at 2 miles an hour,

 

sorted by content
and destination,

 

and computer-switched
on to any one of 40 tracks

 

where new trains
are being assembled.

 

As they go,
the cars are weighed

 

and radar-scanned,

 

their speed adjusted
by hydraulic brakes

 

built into the tracks.

 

Each one,
or two of them together,

 

glides slowly toward
a new destination.

 

[train engine
hisses and chugs]

 

It's easy to imagine

 

your train being pulled
by a steam engine.

 

Some of the scenery
is the same.

 

There is the rhythmic
clickety-clack from the tracks

 

and the distant sound
of a steam whistle,

 

at least in your mind.

 

Meantime, however,

 

it's good to know
that riding the rails

 

is something you can still do
in North Carolina,

 

that trains, and the engines
that pull them,

 

are not a dying breed,

 

even if they
don't look exactly

 

like we might want
to remember them.

 

[train engine
hisses and chugs]

 

[silence]

 

[banjo lazily playing
"Swinging on a Star"]

 

( Billy Barnes )
In the 1940s,

 

a crooner named Bing Crosby
recorded a song that said,

 

"A mule is an animal
with long, funny ears

 

"Kicks up
at anything he hears

 

"His back is brawny,
but his brain is weak

 

He's just plain stupid
with a stubborn streak"

 

 

If you're ever in
the Yadkin Valley community,

 

a few miles north
of Lenoir, North Carolina,

 

it would be best
if you didn't sing that song.

 

Now what are these
mules' names, Tom?

 

This is Kate,

 

and that's Mandy
over yonder.

 

(Barnes)
Farmers up here
love their mules.

 

They may own
big, brawny tractors,

 

but they also like
to spend a morning

 

working their mules,
just like grandpa did.

 

(Tom)
A lot of people's got 'em,

 

but most people's
got 'em to play with.

 

You could probably
buy a tractor for less money.

 

You'd have to pay for a pair
of mules like these--

 

for the two, you'd have to pay
$5,000 or $6,000 for.

 

You're not saving no money
fooling with one.

 

Now we call the male mule
a "horse mule."

 

(Barnes)
Ah, OK.

 

And a mare--a mare mule,
we call her a--

 

a mare mule.

 

(Barnes)
Yeah.

 

(Barnes, voiceover)
Tom Winkler has lived

 

in the valley
for seven decades.

 

His mules
don't just pull plows.

 

They're also pollution-free
power sources

 

for Tom's
shiny stagecoaches.

 

We'll get back
to the stagecoaches

 

in a little while.

 

[fiddle leads
bluegrass tune]

 

Every year in mid-April,
folks gather in a corner

 

of a 100-acre meadow
in Caldwell County,

 

beside the narrow headwaters
of the great Yadkin River.

 

They eat, chat, and tap
their feet to the music,

 

but the main event is mules.

 

[chains clanking]

 

Mules pulling old-timey,
double-handled plows.

 

Mules dragging 50-year-old,
two-wheeled cultivators,

 

repainted
and oiled up especially

 

for what the valley folks
call "Plow Day."

 

(Winkler)
We started with
three or four teams, you know,

 

and it's just got bigger
and bigger over the years.

 

And we don't want
no competition;

 

we don't want
no prizes.

 

We just wanna
have fun.

 

OK, woah! Woah!

 

This is a 210 John Deere plow
with a Syracuse bottom.

 

It's older than I am.

 

Come up!

 

[voiceover]
They're all turning plows.

 

[mellow guitar and bass
playing bouncy tune]

 

 

There's a few
walk-behinds.

 

We call all the plows

 

that you ride on
"sulky plows."

 

Come up, baby.

 

Come up.

 

 

See, you call--

 

you call that
your leading mule.

 

That's your
"off mule."

 

(Barnes)
What is it that makes
one a lead mule

 

and one a follower?

 

(Winkler)
I've heard people
talking 'bout,

 

they work the smartest mule
in the lead.

 

Some people got a mule
that's a little taller,

 

they like to have her
in the lead.

 

(Barnes)
Does a lead mule
earn more oats?

 

(Winkler)
He ought to,
oughtn't he?

 

(Barnes)
After Plow Day is over,

 

big tractors work
the land a bit more,

 

then plant
a crop of hay.

 

Eight weeks later,

 

the farmers and mules
and old machines return

 

for what they call
"Hay Day."

 

[metal clanking]

 

The valley folks
say this field full of mules

 

and old machines
remind them of bygone days,

 

when farmers
always pitched in

 

to help each other
rake hay and harvest corn.

 

[flute leads droning,
rhythmic chords]

 

Hay Day also is a time

 

when younger mules
get some on-the-job training

 

as they trot
alongside their elders.

 

(Winkler)
I've always loved

 

to see the mules
improve by day,

 

you know, and learn to do
what they're s'posed to.

 

(Barnes)
They enjoy working.

 

(Winkler)
They like to work
if you don't mistreat 'em.

 

The--the biggest thing
that bothers the mules

 

that you've got
to watch for is a bees' nest.

 

He's 'fraider
of a hornet

 

or a yellow jacket
than he is a bear.

 

[clattering]

 

(Barnes)
Especially for Hay Day,

 

Tom, Greg, and their friend
Stanley Marley

 

repaired an old hay loader
that grabs fresh-cut hay,

 

rakes it up an incline,
and dumps it onto a wagon bed.

 

[clattering]

 

This strange-looking rig
was the envy of many a farmer

 

in the 1930s.

 

Tom loves to bring rusty,
old farm machines

 

back to life.

 

This is
the way mine'll
look on the back.

 

(Barnes)
But his real passion

 

is building
brand-new stagecoaches.

 

These scenic views
were pretty standard on--

 

on the stagecoaches?

 

Yeah, you put--

 

you put a landscape
on one side

 

and an animal
on the other side.

 

(Barnes)
Tom is a stickler
for authenticity.

 

Nineteenth-century
stagecoaches rested

 

on a loop
of leather straps

 

to make the ride
less jolting.

 

Tom bought seven cowhides
to make shock absorbers

 

for his fifth stagecoach.

 

They call them
"through-braces."

 

You got
14 layers here,

 

which is
120 feet long.

 

And we just
took a chalk line

 

and cut
the rest of it

 

with a drawknife
like that...

 

(Barnes)
Hmm.

 

(Winkler)
...and then just rowed it
and sewed it together.

 

 

Can you raise it?

 

You're gonna be able
to hook it, Bernie?

 

(male voice)
All right.

 

(Barnes)
It's a great day

 

when the shiny coach
first is lowered

 

onto its chassis.

 

[clunking]

 

(Winkler)
OK, let's see.

 

That might work.

 

Now, I'm sure
everybody
wants to know

 

where'd you get
the name for
your stage line.

 

(Winkler)
I visited the stage line
in Deadwood, South Dakota,

 

and I just says,

 

"the next coach
I'm gon' put--

 

I'm gon' put 'Deadwood,
South Dakota' on it."

 

Think I'll
get sued?

 

Nah, not
a chance.

 

Back up, Kate;
back up, Kate!

 

Woo! Woo!
Woo! Woo!

 

Always hook
your front end first.

 

OK, guys.

 

(Barnes)
You mind if I
take a ride with you?

 

No, sir!

 

(Barnes)
Feeling like
the King of England,

 

a passenger takes
a seat in the coach.

 

(Winkler)
Is Billy Boy in?

 

OK, babies!

 

Come up,
Kate, Mandy!

 

(Barnes)
And away we go,

 

clip-clopping
into yesteryear.

 

[clattering]

 

 

Tom's wife, Marilyn,
designed the interior decor,

 

including Old West
upholstery, wall covering,

 

and fancy window fringe
and drapes.

 

 

A couple
of centuries ago,

 

George Washington
rode a coach

 

through
North Carolina.

 

I reckon
if it was good enough

 

for John Wayne
and George Washington,

 

it's a good-enough
ride for me!

 

(Winkler)
Giddyup, hear?!

 

 

[ominous horns
introduce "Dragnet" theme]

 

(radio announcer #1)
Ladies and gentlemen,

 

the story you are
about to hear is true.

 

(announcer #2)
"The New Adventures
of Sherlock Holmes!"

 

[dramatic theater organ]

 

(male narrator)
Ah, the good old days...

 

(Costello)
Hey Abbott!

 

(Abbott)
All right,
what's all the excitement?

 

(narrator)
...when radio was king.

 

(Costello)
Oh, Abbot, the big circus
just came to town!

 

(narrator)
By the time programs
such as this arrived,

 

radio itself was
well along in its history.

 

[Morse code beeping]

 

And one place
you can still see evidence

 

of this rich history is
the Appalachian Radio Museum

 

at Asheville-Buncombe
Community College.

 

[Morse code beeping]

 

In a small room
crammed to overflowing

 

with early
radio paraphernalia,

 

visitors can see,
touch, and listen

 

to the instruments
of history,

 

whose warm dials
look a lot

 

like smiling faces
from the past.

 

(George Burns)
Gracie, ya don't
stand a chance.

 

Presidents are born!

 

(Gracie Allen)
Well, what do you think
I was, hatched?

 

[laughter and applause]

 

[buzzing]

 

(man)
This is a 1936 Zenith here.

 

Here's one down here
that's, uh,

 

oh, about 1950.

 

It is a Zenith and
does a very, very good job.

 

(modern radio announcer)
Over the immigration plan--

 

Here's very early
radios here.

 

They go back
to the early 1920s.

 

Tubes are stickin' out
of the top, as you can see.

 

(narrator)
They're stacked cheek by jowl
on the museum shelves--

 

AM sets mixed with shortwave,

 

radios from different eras,

 

crystal sets from the teens,

 

and radios with brand names
that are yet familiar...

 

and other names lost
to all but the longest memory.

 

(Jack Benny)
If you wanna be
a comedian, Allen,

 

you better watch it.

 

You see, you let
that one get past you.

 

(Fred Allen)
It didn't
get past me, Mr. Benny.

 

I've been around mules
so long, I didn't notice it.

 

[laughter]

 

(man)
I'd like to show you
a really interesting set

 

from the mid-1920s--

 

AC operated!

 

And uh, that
makes it pretty early.

 

These tubes
that you see lit up

 

are voltage-dropping tubes,

 

and they will drop
the voltage

 

down to a level that
the transformer can work with.

 

[muffled voices]

 

Of this type of receiver--

 

it's a tune-radio
frequency type.

 

And you would
turn the knobs

 

until you bring
both of them in resonance.

 

There are people
who are coming in

 

who are ham radio
operators.

 

There are collectors
who come in,

 

and there are--there are
grandmas and grandpas

 

that want to show
the kids what--

 

what grandpa had--
what they listened to

 

back in the
'30s and '40s.

 

(announcer #1)
Dragnet!

 

[horns play "Dragnet" theme]

 

(narrator)
Yes, the memories
just keep on comin'

 

here at the radio museum.

 

All across our state,
through good times and bad,

 

radio kept us
up on the news...

 

(male voice)
It is a felony
to hit a police dog.

 

(narrator)
...and entertained us.

 

("The Shadow" announcer)
Who knows what evil

 

lurks in the hearts
of men?

 

[villainously]
Heh, heh...heh!

 

(narrator)
Heh!--you can look

 

at an old radio
here in the museum

 

and practically hear
those whispers from the past.

 

[big band jazz playing]

 

(Travis)
You're hearing me
on a 1940s microphone,

 

but she still works,

 

and we're all very pleased
to have something like this

 

in the museum.

 

(narrator)
And pleased as well to go back
even further than radio...

 

[clicking]

 

into the age of telegraph,

 

when Samuel F. B. Morse's
new invention

 

made it possible
to organize things better.

 

(man)
Samuel F. B. Morse,
in what--about 1820?

 

You were there,
John, what--

 

[both laughing]

 

(narrator)
A time when bored
summer boys hung around

 

the train depot listening
for the dots and dashes

 

from down the track
and around the state.

 

(man)
Well, I'll tell you
a little story about that.

 

A friend of mine and I
decided we would learn that.

 

[clicking]

 

He lived on one end of town;
I lived on the other.

 

And he could lean out
his upstairs window--

 

and two little alligator clips
like this and a wire--

 

hook it onto
a phone line--two wires.

 

I would trace
those two wires to my house,

 

hook on the same phone line,
and start practicing.

 

[clicking]

 

Every time the telephone
truck we'd see coming by--

 

we'd have to jerk it down

 

because we were interfering
telephone somewhere.

 

(narrator)
And it wasn't long

 

before he was hammering out
code for a living.

 

Good enough that
he became one of a group

 

of telegraph operators
working for the railroad

 

in the days
after World War II.

 

Marion...

 

[clicking]

 

Morganton...

 

Operating a railroad,

 

you had to keep track of
all the trains in Asheville.

 

I didn't...admit I made
a mistake, but I did.

 

a time or two!

 

[beeping punctuates static]

 

(narrator)
Some ham radio operators

 

still use code today.

 

(man)
On 20 meters--

 

[rapid beeping continues]

 

He's in
northern Virginia.

 

(man)
Propagation allows me
to talk, uh,

 

from here to many places
over the globe

 

with just a few
watts of power.

 

K Four Sugar Victor

 

calling CQ 20 meters
and listening for a call.

 

Some people call it "skip."

 

Typically on a normal day
here on the East coast,

 

we can easily
talk to Europe,

 

in--in very much
the same fashion--

 

just by calling CQ,
with a 100-watt radio

 

and a very simple antenna.

 

(narrator)
"CQ" is the ham shorthand

 

for "I'm here
and ready to talk."

 

CQ, calling CQ 20--

 

(narrator)
And it looks like
Dave has made a contact.

 

(male voice)
Kilo Four Sierra Victor,

 

this is
Kilo Five X-ray Sierra; over.

 

(Anderson)
Good afternoon.

 

My name is Dave:
delta, alpha, victor, echo.

 

(male voice)
My name is Bernie--

 

B-e-r-n-i-e, Bernie--

 

and we're located

 

in the northwest corner
of Arkansas; over.

 

(narrator)
The signals from ham sets
and all other transmitters

 

theoretically go on and on
into space, into time.

 

So way out there somewhere
whoever may be listening

 

could well be
tapping their toes

 

to a tune
some of us remember

 

from way back
in radio's golden days.

 

(announcer #3)
Now for those two
friendly hands,

 

George Burns,
and Hines Honey, Gracie Allen!

 

[applause]

 

(narrator)
Heh--and as for us

 

here in the present,
we've got the memories

 

all packed up and ready
to enjoy in one place--

 

our state's own
Appalachian Radio Museum.

 

 

[echoing flute leads
gentle guitar and piano]

 

 

 

[harmonica joins]

 

 

[upbeat snare paces
flowing orchestral strings]

 

 

[tinkling piano joins]

 

 

Captioning Editors
Lauren Gardner, Will Halman,
and Norah Andrews

 

Caption
Perfect, Inc. CaptionPerfect.com

 

(announcer)
To subscribe
to "Our State" magazine,

 

visit the Web
site www.ourstate.com or call...

 

[gentle piano melody]

 

From small towns
to bustling cities,

 

from the Outer Banks
to the Blue Ridge Mountains

 

and all the places in-between,

 

BB&T believes opportunity lives
everywhere in North Carolina.

 

And for more than 130 years,

 

we've helped people
discover it.

 

We're proud
of our North Carolina roots,

 

and we're proud to provide
major funding for "Our State."

 

 

Quality public television
is made possible

 

through the financial
contributions

 

of viewers like you,

 

who invite you to join them
in supporting UNC-TV.