RAILROAD REAL ESTATE REVISITED by Pam North There is no question that the railroad has been tightly entwined in the history of this area. Remnants of the old rolling stock have been salvaged, restored and recycled into viable structures to house businesses and residences. In a recent Mountain Ear article the history of the trio of railroad cars located in the heart of Nederland was explored; these are currently occupied by small retail businesses. Railroad cars appropriated as residences dot our landscape as well. A caboose forms the core of a house near Rollinsville; there is a caboose home in Wondervu and there are two more by Caribou. The most outstanding one is off Magnolia Road, and it belongs to Char Keith, former spouse of local realtor, Jimmy Keith, who brought the train car trio to Nederland in the 1970s, and for at least a decade or so was a railroad car broker. During their marriage many railroad cars were revived into new reincarnations as the couple pursued their mutual interest in railroad history, and Char's unique residence is testament to their desire to restore examples of the old rolling stock. Char's home began as a pair of vintage wood cabooses set side-by-side with the walls between removed so the cars were blended into one unit. The resoration efforts on this first stage were achingly labor-intensive, beginning with sandblasting away numerous layers of old paint to reveal the underlying bare wood to be stained and sealed. One cupola was left intact, while the other one was modified (leaving the brake gauge and handle in place) to accomodate part of the added kitchen layout. The original brakemen's bathroom, with vintage toilet and tiny triangular corner sink, also was preserved. Other area were fashioned within the double-caboose structure: a living room, small bedroom (now used as an office), dining space, tiled bathroom with a wood-lined shower stall and an unusual Victorian steel-shelled, copperlined bathtub. The curving ceiling beams, wood walls and floors characteristic of the old cabooses lend their warm atmosphere of yesteryesr throughout. Ambience can't always compensate for lack of square footage, however. The Keith family was pushing at the confines of the limited space, so over the next four years an unusual addition was built. This took the form of a slightly modified replica of a 1920s Erie-Lackawanna depot. Two wedges were eliminated from the originally octagonal-shaped structure, creating a hexagon that dovetailed into the double cabooses without disturbing their integrity. Graet effort was made to accurately reproduce important historic details such as the big bay windows that had functioned as ticket booths in the old depot design, copper gutters supported by hand-cut korbels that were structurally functional, the steep 9-12 pitch roof. Quality replication was a tedious, painstaking process, measured on some days with as little as four boards laid in a day's work. Frank Neal, a retired master carpenter from Lyons, lent his expertise as contractor to the project. Completion of the two-story depot replica added much-needed space as another living area on the lower level and an upstairs, vaulted-ceilinged, master bedroom. A graceful, arched stained-glass-windowed door opened onto a hexagonal wood deck. The home gained improved functionality along with added character. Char's collections of antique railroad memorabilia (steam gauges, old dining car china, photographs, massive vintage Union Pacific safe, and other bits of railroad history highlighted the theme of the decor. As if this wasn't enough, another goody was yet to come. Jimmy Keith acquired a truly historic railroad car - the 60-ton, circa 1880, private traveling car once used exclusively by Colorado silver magnate Horace Tabor and his wife Baby Doe. Originally in the Forney Transportation Museum, it passed into the ownership of a Denver surgeon who surrounded it in a cinder-block-walled, warehouse-like structure which protected it from damage, preserving it for posterity. Although its wheels and and some of its steel undercarriage had been removed during World War Ii, the car was otherwise surprisingly intact, with elegant cherry paneling, velvet draperies, diamond-dust mirrors, light fixtures, linens and accessories. It had an observation platform, a dining room that accommodated six to eight people, a master bedromm with a built-in brass bed, a galley with its original six-burner cookstove and porter's berth, a small office/ second bedroom with strongboxes and locking files, and a tiny bath with a shower. The car could sleep nine, with pull-out berths on brass chains, each bed with its own individual reading lamp. Ornate brass luggage racks, curved-beam ceilings, clerestory windows, and ample built-in storage completed the luxurious touches on the car. It was meant to be lived in, and with real style. The Tabor family went to Mardi Gras in it, in addition to other rail journeys. The car was bought by a film company and used in seventeen Hollywood Westerns (notably Cat Ballou and Breakheart Pass) before it finally passed into the Keiths' hands. Moving the Tabor car was a real feat in itself, fraught with myriad problems. The car made its last rail journey from Denver to Boulder as part of a slow freight train, then was trucked up Boulder Canyon at a crawling speed of one to three miles per hour, barely scraping throught the tunnel at the bottom of the canyon (lights have been installed in the ceiling of the tunnel since the Tabor car's journey, making suck a move impossible now). "I couldn't watch," Char said, "I was afraid I'd see all that history lying in a heap in the tunnel." The main power link from the hydroelectic plant was accidentally severed, releasing a spectacular shower of sparks, and Keith was given a ticket along the way for impeding traffic, despite his moving permits. The trip through Nederland took two hours as lines were lifted and traffic stopped, and it took another several hours to traverse Magnolia Road, turn the corner into the driveway to the Keith property, and bring the Tabor car to its new site. For twenty years it functioned as guest quarters beside the twin-caboose/depot home; then it was sold to a Mead, Colorado train car collector who is assembling a twenty-car train to use in future Western movies. The Tabor car's exit from the Keith homesite has prefaced Char's future departure as well. She reluctantly has listed the house for sale, and she plans to head for a less remote area. It will be a hard place to leave. The once relatively easy acquisition of railroad cars for personal use has become a thing of the past for all practical purposes. Inventory of the old cars has dwindled, current regulations prohibit their movement on public rail, the high expense of purchasing and transporting them has become prohibitive, and the number of people willing to engage in such a hobby are few and far between. Boulder and Gilpin counties are fortunate to have such gems to meld the past and present and preserve their historic relevance.