Houghton Train Station

Even though I was born in Biloxi, Mississippi, I consider myself a Yooper. My grandfather worked in the Houghton Train Station for the Soo Line. My grandmother and father lived in L’Anse and my grandfather would live in Houghton for the week and then come back to L’Anse for the weekends. I think he was a fireman for the railroad.  Eventually they moved to Marquette and my grandfather worked on the ore docks there. When I was 12 days old, I moved to the lower peninsula and then moved to Copper City when I was almost 2 years old. My brother was born in Laurium. My father worked at the Calumet Air Station there for 18 months. He was an NCO in the Air Force. We eventually moved to K. I. Sawyer when I was in high school and that is how I ended up at Michigan Tech. My parents knew too much about Houghton for me to tell them I was at the library because they knew about the Library bar.  My brother was named after Douglass Houghton Falls, only he had only one “s” in his name. They changed the train station into a Bonanza for a while. We would find a table in the vault to eat. I thought that was cool. I haven’t been to Houghton since 2013 and didn’t get a chance to really explore the place. I noticed you all have a Culvers now. One of these days I would like to come up again and spend some quality time. I tried to talk my daughter into going to Tech, but she ended up going to the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Oh, well. You are doing a good job with the newsletter!

Stacey E. (Roehm) Keener ’88

Thanks, Stacey. The train stations here fascinate me, the way they’ve been so well repurposed. The one between the libraries (the book one and the bar one) has had a contractor in it most of the time I’ve lived here, while the other one, west of the bridge, was a medical office until recently. I think that’s the one that was a Bonanza for a bit, too. Maybe.

OK Kevin you asked:

Thanksgiving 1966 was my first trip home after spending 1965 stuck in the dorm for Thanksgiving. In retrospect I probably should have stay that year as well.

The trip took 42 hours from Buffalo New York, normally a non-stop 15 hour drive. Rain all the way from home to south of Indian River when we crossed the cold front. Rain turned to ice and snow. The car 2 cars up spun out and the guy behind him stopped dead in I-75. He was stopped at least till I hit him in the rear. I then stopped, one of those conservation of momentum things we learned about in physics, and he slid on down the road.

I had a car full of others from the Buffalo area. One in the shotgun seat and 3 in the back.  End result was one broken nose and bent steering wheel, one cracked rib passenger (no seat belt), one in the middle banged up his shins as he tried to slid under the front seat. The other 2 no worst for the wear.

By this time it was snowing so hard it put out railroad flares we set out because I was now dead in the right lane. We finally slid the car off the road by hand to keep from having one of those multi car pile ups. Yes I do mean slid. It was that slick.

After being questioned by Barney Fife—not his real name but sure acted like him. Car went to Indian river, One person stayed with the car the rest had a very exciting ambulance ride in 18″ of snow to Cheboygan hospital. Got nose packed and ribs taped. Took a cab no less back to Indian River (one crazy brave driver) and spent the night at the Indian River Inn. Looked at the remains of my Falcon at the body shop and told them to make it drivable.

Took another cab back to Cheboygan since the bus was not scheduled to stop at Indian River. Planned to spent the night in bus station but we finally got on a bus that crossed Da Bridge and then the driver parked it. All the roads had been closed. Ended up spending the night in the bus.

Next day the roads were open but a mess. Took the south route to Escanaba and changed busses for Marquette. Would have had to spend another night in Marquette but the buss company had enough passengers for the trip to Houghton, so they but on an extra buss.

Our drive, we found out by chatting with him, yes in person and not on a cell, had been attacked by a tree that jumped out in the road the night before and went through his windshield.

Rolled into Houghton late that evening an swapped stories with all the others that had similar adventures on the road that weekend as well.

As for the car I had to take the buss back to Indian river at Christmas to pick it up and finally get it home for a complete repair job.

Yes I remember the train station as it was still running when I graduated in 1968. I shipped a 285 pound piece of copper home that I had found while prospecting. But that is another story.

Jim Hird ME68

Yikes! I did move here during a winter storm, but nothing like this!
One trip to Tech that was memorable for me was after Thanksgiving break in 1994. Instead of my usual route up through Michigan from Detroit to Houghton I was traveling up through Wisconsin after visiting family in Chicago. It was my first time driving through Wisconsin and once I hit the two lane roads I started to get annoyed by all these little Wisconsin towns and their 25 MPH speed limits. By the time I reached Pembine I was cursing Wisconsin and wishing out loud that I could be back in the UP where you don’t have to slow down every five miles for another little berg with one stop light and a cop. Alleluia! I thought out loud as I crossed the Brule River for the last time leaving Wisconsin behind for my beloved UP.

It was at that moment that the first snowflake hit my windshield.

By the time I reached Crystal Falls it was near white out conditions. I turned up 141 and there was three to four inches of snow on the road and the snow was still falling ferociously. While I was back in my home turf of Michigan, this was unfamiliar territory for me. I had never driven in this part of the UP and to make matters worse the map of Wisconsin I had ended a few miles north of Crystal Falls. I knew that 141 would join up with 41 somewhere south of L’anse but I didn’t know how far I had to go to get there. It was 9 pm, dark and snowing, but nonetheless I pressed on (regardless!)

There was no one else stupid enough to be on the road and I quickly realized that if something happened it may be a while until help arrived. Of course, there was no GPS to guide me and no cell phone to call for help if I needed it. My front wheel drive station wagon was still making forward progress in the deepening snow, but it got a little squirrelly over 25 MPH so it was slow going. I devised a plan where I would reset the trip odometer every time I saw an occupied structure so I knew how far I may need to walk back in case I could make it no further. Mile after empty mile passed and not a single house could be seen in the woods. For a brief moment there was hope as headlights appeared behind me, but over time the loaded log truck they belonged too gained ground on me and passed me. As the truck’s taillights faded in the distance I looked down at my odometer and watched it roll over to 15 miles.

“You know, maybe Wisconsin and all its one stop light towns every five miles wasn’t all that bad after all…” I thought.

A few miles later I arrived in Covington, a town which to this day I hold in the highest regard because it was the place that delivered me from the snowy hell of a drive I got myself into. It had taken me an hour and half to drive from Crystal Falls to Covington, just a little under 35 miles. The rest of the trip was uneventful, I survived and made it to Tech in one piece.

I now live in Wisconsin, having long come to terms with its little one light towns, and know well to be careful what you wish for.

-Pete Schierloh, ’96

I know that stretch of 141 well. Remarkably good mobile service along that stretch now. But I am always glad to see the Marathon station in Covington on my way back here whenever I’m out of town.