Playin' on the Railroad

A construction worker’s dream world of model trains attracts a steady procession of fans.

By Jon Melegrito

MILLBORO, VIRGINIA

It’s a bleak late autumn in this rural village, nestled alongside Route 64 near the West Virginia line. With the hunting season almost over, many of the residents, mostly retired farmers, have gone to the woods for a last shot at deer. You’re not likely, however, to find construction worker Earl Zanone among them.

On this December Saturday, as on many weekends for the past 10 years, the 54-year-old Zanone is busy indoors, showing off his collections. They range from Coke bottles to wooden canes. But his prized array is model trains.

Housed in a large wooden shed right beside his house, Zanone’s extraordinary working display has become the main attraction in a town whose only ordinary landmarks are a grocery store, a post office, an elementary school and two churches.

Visitors from as far as Germany have heard of "Earl the Train Man," as the sign reads at the shed entrance. More than 600 people from across the country, plus about a dozen from abroad, have signed his guest book. The largest group, busloads of 150 kids from nearby schools, descended last spring. On most holidays and weekends throughout the year, almost anyone who calls is welcome to stop by.

On weekdays, the Train Man is the Maintenance Man at Western State Hospital in Staunton. A state employee for 13 years and a union member for almost 10 (AFSCME Local 3983, Council 27), Zanone drives 90 roundtrip miles a day to his job in the hospital’s carpentry shop, where he performs tasks that range from trimming bushes to laying metal studs. "He relaxes by playing with his trains," says Freda Zanone, his wife of 36 years. "He’s like a big kid once he gets in that shed."

WHISTLES BLOWING. The model train set-up, valued at $20,000, is spread out on a multi-layered, multi-storied platform that measures five by 18 feet and reaches a yard toward the ceiling. A Santa Fe Lionel six-car train runs through sweeping curves in an elaborately constructed scenic layout that includes a football field, hobo village, mini-mall and the Rock ‘N’ Roll Diner. Above the track, a bridge carries a streetcar back and forth. Two tiers of track also hang suspended from a mirrored ceiling bearing several trains: a Marx, an Amtrak, a K-line, a Hershey and a True Value. As they speed along, whistles blow at railroad crossings.

The Canadian Pacific, which in real life operated from the 1940s through the 1970s, runs on a separate tier, while the Baltimore & Ohio encircles all four walls on two stories of track. The B&O rig recalls a bit of history. This Presidential train was modeled after the one that carried Dwight Eisenhower’s coffin from Washington, D.C., passing near Millboro enroute to the burial site in West Virginia.

Of all the models Zanone owns, the most treasured is a 666, a locomotive. "I grew up with big, old trains and their locomotives," he says. "I like the loud, slow, chugging sound and the sight of belching smoke. The smaller and newer ones don’t fascinate me as much, but my grandkids love them because they’re faster."

LIGHTS, MUSIC, ACTION. At Christmastime, Zanone adds special lighting effects, festive decorations and holiday music. With one flick of the switch, 14.9 amps of electric power turns a shabby shed into a glittering display of childhood fantasy and adult nostalgia. Although his electric bill runs about $80 a month, he never charges for admission. He explains that simply watching kids enjoy themselves more than compensates for the expenses. "I feel like a child again, too, and that feeling is priceless."

The eight sets of model trains, running simultaneously at full speed in a carnival-like setting, draws from Zanone’s 5-year-old granddaughter Cassie the supreme accolade: "cool." Cassie sometimes helps her granddaddy operate the controls, especially the whistles. Linked together, the railroad tracks would stretch to three-quarters of a mile. As his collection grows, he plans to further extend the building. The original took two years to finish, costing $7,000 in lumber and $1,000 for concrete, metal studs, sheetrock and insulation. Labor, however, was completely free — his own plus help from family and friends — thanks to sheer brawn and manual skills learned in the construction business.

A FATHER'S GIFT. Zanone’s childhood passion for trains started when his father, an Italian immigrant who waited on tables in Baltimore during the Depression, bought him a 1954 diesel toy engine for Christmas. The 8-year-old could hardly contain his joy. He built a small platform in the family’s crowded living room and spent countless hours playing with the train that ran around it.

Forced to quit school at 10 in order to help support the family, he got his first full-time job bagging groceries and stocking shelves at 50 cents an hour. At 17, both parents died, leaving him with nothing. The young man turned to construction work and proceeded to learn such skills as hanging sheetrock, installing dry wall and laying floor tiles. "I’ve taught my boys the same skills," he says proudly of his son and son-in-law. "You’ll never be jobless once you learn to use your hands."

Zanone bought another train set at age 22. But it was not until 10 years ago that he decided to really expand his collection. One big impetus: the joyful reaction to the models his four grandchildren exhibited one Christmas Day. So, starting with a small set, he added other models each year. A larger shed inevitably became necessary, leading to its present location.

PATIENCE AND HARD WORK. Putting the shed and its displays into shape was hard work, Zanone says, "But my wife always tells me my patience never ends."

That is no doubt one reason why Chuck Snyder, his supervisor at the hospital for more than 12 years, is proud to have Zanone on his team. "He’s one of the hardest working guys in our unit," Snyder says.

Adds Clarence Forsythe, owner of the Staunton hobby store where Zanone brings his trains for repairs: "He’s also providing a valuable service by teaching kids what hobbies are all about and getting them interested. What’s unique about Earl is what he has to show and the fact that he welcomes kids coming to see it."

Most of the 200 kids who attend the local elementary school have of course been to Zanone’s wonderland. John Jenkins, the school principal and a coin collector himself, calls the visits "a unique learning experience for these children. Model trains are not in one of our SOLs [standards of learning]."

ZANONE FOR MAYOR. In a village with no industry or commerce to speak of, Zanone’s train collection is clearly a source of community pride. "I might even vote for him if he decides to run for mayor," says Millboro’s Kenneth Page, who considers his friend’s "common sense and down-to-earth humility more important than all the smarts most politicians brag about."

For now, Zanone is more than satisfied just receiving thank-you letters like this one from third-grader Jared Madison: "I loved the Ferris wheel, the model farm, the porcelain people and the tiny bubble lights. It looked like Christmas all year round."

And it might as well be. Earl Zanone’s yuletide present of 46 years ago has become a permanent gift to kids of all ages who want to remember Christmas as a time for losing oneself in simple pleasures and letting the imagination run wild.