BLOOMINGTON, Ill. – As a little boy I remember a sunny afternoon at my grandparent’s farm, about six or seven miles to the west of Bloomington, IL. The adults were excited. Off to the east, a huge column of black smoke rose in the distance. There was a fire – a big one. 
We loaded up in the pickup truck – several of us riding in the bed – and headed into town. A few minutes later we were parked near St. Patrick’s Catholic Church. A huge crowd had gathered to see the blaze. I was very young. The canvas hoses of the firemen were strewn everywhere, leaking water. It took huge steps to get over them for this little boy. Eventually one of the men hoisted me upon their shoulders so I could get a better view. We could see the flames shooting out of the large doors of the building that was on fire. The firemen couldn’t do much but limit the fire to the main building and let it burn. Years of tar, grease, coal dust and diesel fuel had soaked into the heavy timbers that lined the floor of the building and meant the blaze would burn until it consumed the plentiful fuel. About sixty years after its predecessor met the same fate, the Chicago & Alton Roundhouse, rebuilt after that a 1910 fire, burned to the ground. It would not be resurrected this time. The railroad, at one point, the largest employer in Bloomington, was already in decline. The roundhouse was never rebuilt and most of the jobs those moved to Kentucky shortly thereafter. About twenty or so odd-years later, the shuttered machine shops met the same fate as the roundhouse. There is still a switching yard here, but little else remains at what was once the center of the C & A railroad. They still remember the “good old days” of the steam era around here, though. I know my great-grandfather, “Poppy,” was a conductor and my late grandmother would tell stories of she and her sisters meeting his train and walking him home, carrying his lunch box for him. An uncle of mine was one of those transferred to Paducah after the fire – but by then everything was diesel. The memory of steam power still casts ripples, although the further away we get the smaller those waves become. There was a popular display about five or six years ago at the old county courthouse – itself now a museum – that celebrated the steam engines that rolled though Bloomington and the surrounding farm towns. “Prairie Thunder: 80 Years of Midwestern Railroad Photography” they called the exhibit. They liked the name enough that they stuck it on the newly-born hockey franchise that began play later that year. I drove past the former locations of these old railroad buildings last weekend. There is just green grass interrupted by a few small grass covered mounds and a sign advertising that the space is available for purchase. Since the last fire over 20 years ago, no visible signs that those massive railroad buildings existed here remain. What remained of the Prairie Thunder era was swept away by the Blaze. Contact the writer at shaun.bill@prohockeynews.com
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