[Illustration: A new era arrives. A spotless Diesel is pushed into
the NCR yard to replace the Company’s venerable steam-storage
locomotives.]
[Illustration: On one of its last working days, the Rubicon, now on
display at Carillon Park, pushed its successor to the factory engine
house.]
[Illustration: With several NCR employees aboard, the replacement
engine makes its first run across Dayton’s South Main Street.]
[Illustration: The old yields to the new. The Rubicon turns
switching responsibilities over to the modern Diesel. The transfer
is symbolized by an employee handclasp.]
“The Three little Engines”
[Illustration: The Rubicon, as yet unnamed, arrived at NCR in 1909
on a flat car, just as its successor was welcomed more than half a
century later.]
Most things yield to progress—and that, of course, is how museums are
made. The Corliss engine now on display at Carillon Park labored
mightily during the formative years of American industry, yet more
economical electric power systems eventually sent that steam giant into
retirement at the Park. The Conestoga wagon and the Concord coach, the
Grasshopper locomotive and the high-wheeled Cadillac—all served their
purpose. And then, with sentimental if somewhat whimsical ceremony, they
were consigned to their final resting place.
In the summer of 1962, Carillon Park made room for what is probably its
most unusual example of antique “rolling stock.”
[Illustration: “The Three Little Engines” are pictured soon after
their purchase by NCR. The Carillon Park relic, the Rubicon, is
pushing the first electric express car used by The Ohio Electric
Company. The exhaust stacks of all three fireless engines originally
extended up the front of the storage tanks, fully exposed, but the
tanks were later given false fronts so the Rubicon, The Dayton and
the South Park would resemble conventional railroad locomotives.]
[Illustration: The Dayton]
[Illustration: The South Park]
The newcomer is the “Rubicon,” one of three fireless locomotives which
were purchased by The National Cash Register Company in the early years
of this enterprising century. The Rubicon, however, did not come to the
Park from a rusty and forgotten limbo—as, for instance, the Grasshopper
locomotive did. The engine is an antique, to be sure, yet its boiler and
baffles had scarcely had time to dry when it was refurbished for a place
of honor in the museum. Its successor, a Diesel-powered switch engine,
had been delivered only a short time before the Rubicon was relieved of
service and was ready to be converted into a public curiosity. In fact,
the Rubicon—injury added to insult!—on one of its final trips puffed
across the NCR yard and pushed its bright blue-and-yellow replacement
from the flat car on which it arrived to the roundhouse.
“The Three Little Engines,” so long familiar to Daytonians, were among
the first fireless (or steam storage) locomotives in America. The Dayton
was built in 1913, the South Park in 1910 and the Rubicon in 1909—all by
the Lima Locomotive Works of Lima, Ohio, on a basic design developed and
popularized in Germany. NCR’s founder, John H. Patterson, had in fact
seen such an engine during his travels in Europe, and decided it was
just what he wanted for Dayton, Ohio.
Mr. Patterson was one of the first American industrialists to be
concerned with “factory environment.” He believed that a factory would
be an esthetic asset to the community, as well as a happy place for
workers, if it were kept clean and attractively landscaped. NCR
resembled—then, as it does today—a series of office buildings rather
than a huge industrial complex.
The neighborhood adjacent to the factory also concerned John H.
Patterson; he offered annual prizes to householders who kept the best
yards and flower beds. An early NCR machinist who looked up from his
lathe and glanced out the spacious window—by way of resting his eyes—saw
lovely suburban gardens instead of the grimy clutter that bordered most
factories of the era.
Keeping the sandstone buildings clean, and the geraniums healthy, would
be easier, Mr. Patterson concluded, if it weren’t for the sooty smoke
belched up by switch engines.
The steam-storage locomotive proved to be the answer. It could chuff
about for hours, emitting nothing more than a few puffs of steam.