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>During the early part of 1974, the rumors became official - that "The Milwaukee Road" would terminate all Electric operations. Countless railfans made impromptu pilgrimages covering many, many miles, all the while enduring the bleakness knowing that the shots they took would be irreplaceable. The winter solstice and monochromatic weather simply added to the melancholy. Spring finally did come, with better weather, but the prognosis was as grim as every second that ticked off a clock. Come the month of June, that clock struck twelve.
>My vacation plans were prearranged for August... When we finally arrived at Deer Lodge, we felt like late-comers to a graveside service. The (Passenger) Joes (E20 and E21) were parked up near the roundhouse, along with the old GE steeple cab switchers; all was eerily quiet, the pans lowered. But where were the rest of their roster-mates?
>A drive down to the opposite end of the yard revealed the gut-checking view that was brutally hard to take. To think we missed by mere months; oh, what might have been. We stood in silent reverence - of these unique brutes of tonnage mastery. A single photograph to bear witness, to recall what their decades of faithful service meant to the bottom line, let alone the people that were employed - specifically - to make sure they were in as good of shape as the day they left GE. Now, stripped of their tilted rectangular iconic heralds, one needed no further proof of the transient nature of everything on this planet.
>Yes, 1974, and now, thirty-six years ago. Thank God for all who painstakingly persevered in documenting the halcyon days of what it all meant, and especially to one Richard Steinheimer. Through the collective of their imagery, the memories will never die.