The Iron Lady of Phillipsburg

Very early on Saturday, I emerged from my home into a dark, muggy morning and drove to meet Margie, with whom I'd ride to an old pump house in New Jersey. We had an appointment with 13 other explorers to view this old building privately. The date had been canceled once due to COVID, but the caretaker felt that, with diligent care and common sense, we could keep our date today. It was fabulous to see the crew for the first time in months, but very difficult to hold myself back from hugging them all, so a few elbow bumps were exchanged. I seriously hope this won't be a greeting that takes hold, I'm not a fan.

We all stood in a circle and listened to Ken, the kind gentleman allowing our tour today, a sprightly 80 year old, sporting a pony tail and a laid back attitude. He informed us that we were free to go anywhere and climb on anything, but if any accidents occurred there would be a timely wait for help since he wouldn't be rushing anywhere fast to get help. Fair 'nuff!

We all entered slowly into the huge dim chamber, letting our eyes get accustomed to the change from the glaring sunlight, and ensuring we all kept well apart from each other. There was a pleasant aroma of old fuel, aging machinery and damp brickwork, and I breathed in deeply once I'd pulled down my face mask. It was very humid inside and I have to confess that I was lazy, leaving my tripod by the door, and my photos do reflect this. But I had a problem standing still, so excited to be out 'on an explore' with such excellent people and the freedom to clamber anywhere I desired, that dragging a tripod around and standing still to set up long exposure shots simply wasn't an option today. I looked at the couple of others I saw who were studiously bent over their tripods and wished I had better self constraint.

After a couple of minutes taking a few random shots I grabbed a handrail and hauled myself up onto the vast pump. I wanted to calm myself down and concentrate on my photography plus ensure I was away from my neighboring camera clickers. It was pretty humid in the pump house which made it uncomfortable wearing a mask. It felt great standing on top of this monster piece of machinery, like standing on a mountain, and it was solid, extremely well built. All the handrails and steps were very secure. It was a long drop down to the reservoir below and I could see my friends milling about, looking for their next photo.

This old pumping plant was founded in 1885, a five-story steam pumping plant assembled on site that ran until 1969. The 300hp steam engine is 51ft tall and is known as 'Big Alice'. It pumped six million gallons a day from the Delaware River to a reservoir. Today it stood silent, yet water still dripped from its joints and the reservoir below still held pockets of water, a shiny purple sheen of oil floating on top.

Since we had been given a free rein I climbed out onto a galley of metal grating that had much bigger gaps than I felt comfortable with, but the handrail felt solid so I inched out until I could get the old terminal sign in my frame without it being scrunched up.

There are many rail artifacts hung, piled or stacked in the pump house, outside or in another building. Old pieces of rail tracks, benches, many signs, posters, crates of tools and boxes of historical artifacts are all being preserved and saved for the new NJ Transportation Heritage Center which is being planned.

We're definitely a 'fun-ful' group! These steps were weird, they sloped slightly away and down as I climbed up, likely to stop me falling back, but it felt very unnatural.

I covered every part of the pump, squeezing between pipes, climbing up stairs and peering into dark spaces. And because our group was so small it sometimes felt like I had this wonder all to myself.

The Friends of the New Jersey Transportation Heritage Center had worked on restoring this hulk for years and managed to get it running in July 2018, making it the largest running stationary steam engine in North America, video here. It had last run in 1982.

The FriendsNJTHC website is here.

Outside were a few old trucks and a bus that had been daubed with graffiti on the last break in. They have plenty of cameras installed now and a multitude of padlocks on the buildings so security has been increased. There's also an 80's fire pump which will be used for rides when the heritage center opens. Ken drove it out of the shed and when I asked if I could ride shotgun, he yelled, "Jump in!" I told him I hadn't ridden in a fire truck for over 30 years when I was a firefighter in England, so bless his heart, he told me we'd go for a short ride. The engine couldn't leave the premises so we rode up and down the driveway a couple of times, and I have to say he put his foot down. It was hard to believe he was 80 years old the way he handled that truck, and he informed me with a grin, that he was the only one in the group that drove it. The others were too nervous. We laughed. I wished I could have given him a big hug when we got back, he was a charming host, but the damn social distancing rules, once again, put paid to any contact.

We all donned our masks to pose for a group photo inside, and it turned out great. Well done Eric. When our time was up, we left, some of us wanting to return at a later date. I'd certainly like to go back if it meant seeing the pump operating. We were starving and found a local brewery where we could sit spaced out outside in the shade. Böser Geist Brewing was a great find, excellent beers, with Richard and I agreeing we'd had the best pickle fries ever here. Plus our group being able to sit outside in the shade was a huge bonus. After lunch, a few of us agreed to check out the local Dixie cup factory, a few miles down the road. It was inaccessible so we continued on to St Michael's Cemetery, a few minutes away, where we could look down on to the Bethlehem steel stacks. I found this depressing. The cemetery was badly neglected and vandalized, anything resembling a statue or intricate carving had been destroyed. We didn't stay long and soon left, waving farewells to each other as we all began our long drives home through the dusk.