The sound rocked you to sleep.  The gentle click clack off in the distance signaled another trolley was on the way.  The rhythm was that of a tap dancer getting closer to the edge of the stage.  The volume grew as the seconds passed.  click clack click clack CLICK CLACK CLICK CLACK.    The darkness outside our small home by the rails was illuminated by a trail of sparks above the old streetcar rocking and bobbing down the crooked tracks outlined in rust; neglected by time, and brought to life every 15 minutes.   Finally, the disjointed tapping noise would pass and fade into silence.  Once again, my bedroom was bathed in darkness, as another trolley bobbing its way to the loop in Library, Pennsylvania before another trip to Downtown Pittsburgh.  This audio cycle would start again in the next quarter hour, but the call to sleep would overtake those soothing clacking sounds that echoed through the hills. 

Trolley stops a block from my home (circa 1974)

Trolleys in Pittsburgh occupy a place in the area’s consciousness.  Modern light rail cars now roam the gravel trimmed tracks through the South Hills and in the subterranean passageways under the city.   But as a boy, I rode the trolley to downtown adventures with friends.  We’d fight our way through the bodies to find a place to sit, while the old hunk of steel cloaked in rusted sheetmetal shook all of us in unison over the bumps and the crooked roadbed.   This was light rail before the term was tossed around political roundtables as solutions to global warming.   Moms and dads didn’t run us around in plush SUVs.   When we wanted to watch the Pirates at Three Rivers Stadium,  we scraped up the coins for ”the ride into town.”  60 cents.  (half price if you were under 12)  It took about thirty-five minutes to ride about 10 miles.     If you got a seat, you looked out a window scarred by wild branches that slapped the old streetcar during endless trips.  You’d see a slide show of trees and overgrown brush give way to faded buildings housing neighborhood taverns and body shops.  The stops were numerous.  Each one exchanging humanity along the way.   But it was that signature clucking and clacking sound that made the ride unique.  The cars were delivered to Pittsburgh following World War Two from the St. Louis Car Company.  They served more than 40 years sporting various paint jobs along the way.   Large ceiling fans worked in lieu of air conditioning giving little comfort  as they pushed hot air through the car on those stifling August afternoon rush hours.  But there was something about those rocking and bobbing vehicles delivering workers and students to and from the South Hills daily. 

Pittsburgh Trolley in South Hills (circa 1974)

The first electric cars rumbled along Pittsburgh streets in the 1890’s.  But the Steel City stayed with this mode of mass transport long after other towns, including Norfolk, abandoned trolleys.  However, the track was switched in the 1960’s, when the Port Authority of Allegheny County abandoned miles of rails throughout the city in favor of buses.  The South Hills, where I grew up, was spared, and trolleys rocked and rolled until the late 1980’s.  Pittsburgh still uses some of the same roadbeds for its current light rail system, and plans are underway to expand rail travel through other neighborhoods which had abandoned trolley travel decades before. 

Artist Rendering of The Tide

Meanwhile, Norfolk is going ahead with its plans for its own light rail project, The Tide,  and Virginia Beach may soon be on board, but Hampton Roads has been down this line before.  The last streetcar run in Norfolk took place 60 years ago, and at one time they linked Norfolk with Sewell’s Point, Ocean View, South Norfolk, Berkley and Portsmouth. After buses were introduced in 1925, streetcar lines were phased out until finally, only the Ocean View line was left. At midnight on 10 July 1948 the last car made its last run to Ocean View, jammed with passengers ripping souvenirs from the walls and smashing windows. The engine quit, the riot squad had to be called, and the car was hauled, defunct, back to the barn.  This was the same time that Pittsburgh was taking delivery on its last generation of streetcars.   

Today’s technology is far better than those old electric trolleys that clacked along rusty tracks.  But the principle of mass transportation has reared its head once again, when four dollar gasoline invaded our wallets.   Gasoline has taken a brief respite from the record summer highs, but  highways are still clogged, which begs the question, “How do we get there from here?” as we sit on 264 watching time pass while the gas gauge drifts lower.   Times change, but some ideas come full circle, like the loop that still carries folks through suburban Pittsburgh.  Let’s see if The Tide can carry the load.