Memories of the Station Agent's Daughter

Beaver River depot, front facing the tracks

Living in a railroad depot in the 1930s may seem like a dream come true, especially to an adventurous child. There was the excitement of trains constantly arriving and departing, travelers passing through, and heaps of interesting freight being loaded or unloaded. A vivid account of the life of a child of the Beaver River station agent unfolds in the written reminiscences of Joyce Partridge Vohnoutka. Joyce was born in 1930, the next to youngest child of Ethel Wetmore Partridge and her husband William, the station agent. For reasons that will soon become clear, Joyce’s memories center on 1940, the year she turned 10.

The Beaver River railroad depot was built in 1892. Photos of old depots along the Adirondack Division line show that the basic features were roughly the same, but each depot was customized to fit the needs of the location. The depots were rectangular with a roof that had substantial eaves extending over the platform to provide some protection from the elements. They all had a waiting room, a station agent’s office, a coal stove, and a bathroom with a toilet, sink and running cold water piped in from a nearby water tank used primarily by the steam locomotives. There was no electricity, so lighting was provided by large windows, kerosine lamps and candles. A freight room was usually attached to one end of the depot.

 

The Beaver River depot was constructed with comfortable living quarters for the station agent and his family on the second floor. Station agents at remote stops like Beaver River needed to be at the depot at all hours of the day and night to receive passengers and freight and to operate the telegraph, so having living quarters in the depot was a welcome convenience.

 

Even though the terms “station” and “depot” are often used interchangeably, technically “station” refers to a location where a train has a scheduled stop. The building where passengers and freight boarded and exited a train is a depot.  When a depot included living quarters it was sometimes referred to as a “station house.” Here’s what it looked like from the rear.

 

Rear view, Beaver River depot

As discussed in detail in my previous post about station agents https://beaverriverhistory.blogspot.com/2024/12/the-station-agents.htm , only two families ever lived in the Beaver River station house: the family of John Dowd from 1892 until 1912 and the family of William Partridge from 1913 until 1940. William and Ethel Partridge had nine children. Since their children were born over a period of twenty years, there was room at the station house for everyone, although I imagine it may have been a bit crowded at times. The Partridge children attended a one-room school located right across the tracks.

 

Joyce Partridge begins her account of life in the depot by remembering how steep the stairs were from their home to the waiting room. She even had nightmares about falling down those stairs for many years after moving elsewhere.  

  

“…we lived upstairs over the Beaver River railroad station. The stairs going up to our living quarters had a landing at the top and you could look back down to where you had been. The downstairs had high ceilings, so the distance looking back down the stairs after you got to the top was higher than the average distance.”

 

The waiting room also served as the children’s play room along with its other functions.

 

“The downstairs Office and Waiting Room. My, how I loved those rooms! The potbellied stove in the Waiting Room kept that room so cozy and warm. Sometimes, if Daddy would let us, we would play house, store, or whatever our imaginations lead us to in that room.”

 

The station agent’s office was just off the waiting room. It had a ticket window that opened onto the platform and also served as the telephone exchange and the telegraph office.  The station agent usually worked as a telegraph operator. Joyce remembered that well.

 

“The Office seemed so important, and Daddy seemed so important calling this agent and that agent. Then sometimes he would get on the Morse Code key!! That was really important! I vowed someday to learn the whole alphabet and send messages. I did eventually learn to send messages, although quite hesitantly! I am so glad I did.”

 

The waiting room served a number of other family functions. Since the water tap was in the bathroom downstairs, on Mondays the waiting room served as the laundry room.

 

“I can recall Washday, Mondays usually. Mama would get the ringer washer out of the bathroom area in the Big Room, fill it with water, get out the galvanized wash tubs, and wash and rinse all day! Then the laundry would be hung out back on the clotheslines, which I believe were strung between the trees.”

 

On Saturday night the waiting room served as the children’s bathroom.

 

“These same galvanized tubs were used for Saturday night bath time. The coal stove in the Big Room would be stoked up nice and warm, the tubs half full of warm water, and we would take turns sudsing up and rinsing off. If it was winter, when you got wet, you kinda wanted to turn each & every side to the heat! Actually, you would sit in the water until Mama ordered you to stand up and dry off!”

 

The freight room was attached to the north end of the depot. There was access to it from inside the waiting room as well as through large doors on the platform side and on the road side.

 

“I also had memories about the freight shed part of the station. It was on the northern part of the station. That was where the incoming and outgoing freight was stored; either until the addressee picked it up, or when it was loaded onto the [freight cart] to wait to be shipped out. There were big sliding doors in front and back, which were closed and locked at night. My memory thinks of the freight shed as always cold, but actually in the summer it got very warm. However, I recall that there was always a breeze through because Daddy kept the front and back doors open.”

 

The railroad supplied the depot with coal for heating. This coal was stored in a coal bin at the far end of the freight house. For Joyce, the coal bin had a more important function.

 

“I remember the coal bin(s) on the very north end. In the early spring, there would be an incubator in one of them, hatching eggs. I don’t know why he hatched, because I also remember the train coming in with cartons of chicks in little compartments, two, three, or four to a compartment. Perhaps a hundred chicks! Daddy must have told us he had ordered them because we watched each train as it came, in anticipation. I remember as the train slowed down, and the baggage car door was open, you could hear the peep, peep, peep of the chicks!! How excited we got!! He would let us pick them up if we were very gentle.”

 

Joyce turned ten years old on October 14, 1940. It was a birthday she would remember for the rest of her life. During that day, Joyce enjoyed a good birthday. She recalled getting new pajamas that had matching booties. That evening as the family was getting ready for bed, the unexpected happened. The station house caught fire. 

 

“As I recall, my mom came and told me to get out of the house. I really don’t remember going down the stairway or if my [younger] sister June and [older] brother Jim were with me or not. I do not remember now if I actually saw the flames or smoke or if I am remembering it because it was repeated so often in the days afterwards.”

 

There was no local fire department and no practical way the fight the fire, so all that the adults could do was get everyone out safely and watch. The children were taken to a building next to the hotel that had a store downstairs and bedrooms upstairs.

 

“June, who must have been about 6, and I were hustled off to a nearby building, (currently called The Annex) and put to bed in an upstairs bedroom with the shade on the window pulled down. However, being a typical 10-year-old, several times I pulled the shade aside and peaked out. I clearly recall the whole station house being a mass of flames. At one point, I heard a great commotion outside – something to the effect of “there she goes” – and got up to look out. There was still just a mass of flames. I have always felt kind of deprived about being isolated in that bedroom. I guess that they felt that if we were there, they knew we were safe, and I am sure people had much more to worry about than if we were keeping out-of-the-way!”

 

The station house with most of their belonging burned to the ground that night. The family lost almost everything. They didn’t have any clothes except what they were wearing at the time of the fire. Joyce remembered that the community quickly came to their aid.

 

“The next day, I was outfitted with clothes, which belonged to Marian Thompson, [daughter of Clint and Jennie Thompson, the hotel owners]. They didn’t fit quite right, and she was an adult, so the clothes were not appropriate for a 10-year-old, but they kept me warm! Within a very short time, perhaps a day or so, boxes of clothing arrived from the Red Cross. What a lot of fun we had sorting through all those things!! Boxes and boxes of kid’s clothes!! Who cared if they were not new?”

 

The Partridge family temporarily moved into the section house owned by the railroad, then vacant. At the time, the Partridges owned the building that was being used as the school. The school soon relocated to the Annex building, so the Partridges moved into the former school building. That building still stands, owned by a member of the family. Here’s a photo of it when it was a school with some Partridge children playing outside, possibly including June.

After the fire, the railroad moved the empty section gang bunkhouse to the train platform to be used as a depot. The station house was never rebuilt, probably because passenger traffic had decreased so much. In 1943 William Partridge was appointed station agent at Sabattis and his family moved there to live in a full-sized station house. William worked at that job until 1948. 

Sabattis station house as it appeared in 1972

Joyce Partridge retained her affection for Beaver River and visited often. In 1941 she met Edward Vohnoutka, a boy whose family was then building a camp at Beaver River. They became friends, then later courted for a number of years, and eventually decided to get married. When he was old enough, Ed joined the Army. Joyce worked at a bank in Utica. They applied for a marriage license as soon as Ed had leave from the Army. They were married on May 29, 1951. They had children, lived long and eventful lives, and both died in 2009.

 

Source: The written memories of Joyce Partridge Vohnoutka courtesy of the Thompson family of the Norridgewock Lodge who were given a copy by a member of the Partridge family.

 

 Photo credits: Beaver River depot photos are from the collection of Mary Kunzler-Larmann, Beaver River school courtesy of Kathy Partridge, Sabattis depot about 1972, collection of Mark Friden.