1880 Census
Update 32
1880
The trees grew so tall and wide, one had to strain to see the sunlight. As the train traveled through the dark shadows, the tree trunks blurred seamlessly while Mr. Fredric Stevens looked out from the window. Travelers from the east were often bewildered at the sight – it was almost like traveling through an eternal tunnel. But this was not Mr. Stevens’ first time in SorGun.
Ten years earlier, he was responsible for carrying out the federally mandated census. Much had changed in 10 years, but Stevens was still working for the US government, and he was again responsible for counting the citizens of the SorGun region, but this time as the head of a small team. As Fredric made his way through the dense forests he chuckled a bit. Memories of dirt tracks, old bumpy wagons and colorful travel companions came flooding back.
What a difference ten years had made. As the train snaked through the ancient trees, the team was preparing for their first stop in SorGun. The Northern Pacific rail line to Steamer Bay had sprouted a number of communities, including Amesville.
The town started from the main railroad camp used by the Northern Pacific workers. The bridge spanning the large Tyee River was Mr. Stevens’ first look at civilization after an endless amount of forest. The train slowed as it neared the little shack of a station. “Welcome to Amesville” the conductor announced.
To the average Joe, the little town wasn’t much to look at… just some houses scattered about on the bend of a river. But Mr. Stevens was impressed. If he were here just ten years earlier, the only things to count would be the deer running through the forest. Today, the town spread from the little station over a few blocks in every direction.
(click for full)
The team disembarked the train and made their way over to the little church near the center of town. The pastor, a young man by the name of Thomas Prosch welcomed the visitors to his little town (it wasn’t often that visitors stopped in Amesville).
Besides a few farms, Amesville really only existed because the timber had been cleared by the railroad and the land was cheap. Steamer Bay was just a short trip down the rail line and most folks in town just took the morning train to work.
Stevens and his crew got to work. It didn’t take more than the afternoon before each block had been counted. Amesville boasted a total population of 468 souls. Not bad for a day’s work, thought Stevens.
The little group celebrated that evening at Harry’s, the only saloon in town. It was a fun night, but the job had only just begun. The next morning they caught the first train to Steamer Bay. One of the townies on the train mentioned to Stevens that he helped build the bridge they were crossing. “Yesser, this bridge is a modern marvel of diagonal-injuneerin’… lest dats what dem NAM engineers done told us.” Fredric Stevens smiled and nodded, but he had no idea what this man was talking about. He was just happy he wasn’t making the crossing on an old, wet wagon ferry.
Stevens and his crew made their way towards Steamer Bay – the Northern Pacific Railroads chosen terminus for their transcontinental rail line.
As the steam engine made the last bend, Steamer Bay came into view. Stevens face was pressed against the window like a little boy, trying to take it all in. The edge of town was home to a number of huts and shacks built by workers looking for jobs, including many native Indians.
The engine slowed as the station came into view. It was nothing extravagant, but for somebody living on the frontier it was quite impressive. The extra wide boulevard leading away from the station was lined with shops and apartments, and a number of industrial buildings and warehouses were filling in around the terminus.
Fredric Stevens stood by the little gazebo in front of the station and looked out in all directions. What he saw amazed him. It was hard for him to believe this was a backwater fishing village just 7 years ago. He and his team had their work cut out for them. They gathered their luggage and took a walk down the wide avenue and checked into one of the local inns. This was going to take more than a night.
(click for full)
While the rest of Stevens’ team tackled the neighborhoods surrounding the station and Main Street, he decided to take a walk up the little hill and explore the growing neighborhoods south of town. The size of some of the houses surprised him… It was quite obvious that a number of folks in Steamer Bay were making money hand over fist.
The schoolhouse was full of laughing children, and citizens on the streets were busy going about their daily business.
The following days were spent tracking down everyone in town. This was no small task, considering many areas of town were growing by the day.
(click for full)
But the citizens were especially helpful and energetic, and it was quite obvious that Steamer Bay was humming like a well-oiled machine each and every day. The Mayor even offered to give a grand tour of the brand new rail yard and roundhouse. The last brick was laid less than a month ago, and Northern Pacific spared no expense in constructing one of the most advanced rail yards on the west coast.
Steamer Bay was the very definition of a boomtown. With the financial backing from the Northern Pacific Railroad, as well as home to the terminus of transcontinental rail line, the future of Steamer Bay looked as bright as the shine on the new steam engines pulling in and out of the rail yard each day.
But there was one skeleton hiding in the closet. During a night of festivities toward the end of their stay, Fredric Stevens learned some surprising news from one of the town council members.
“The fools reported the measurements wrong. The bay is too shallow for ships. It’s a damn catastrophe.”
“That is terrible news, the Northern Pacific Railroad must be incensed,” offered Stevens.
“And rightly so. The small island offers acceptable depths for a wharf, but it will cost a fortune to move enough earth to make it functional. All thanks to a couple of drunks in a rowboat,” said the councilman.
The year before, Northern Pacific finished a small branch line that ran up to Porthaven. The railroad was praised by many in the region for strengthening the local infrastructure. But as Stevens boarded the train for Porthaven, the real motive became clear. The railroad needed access to a port and it would be years before Steamer Bay could construct a proper shipping terminal. Porthaven would have to suffice in the meantime. Stevens couldn’t help but laugh. Two chaps in a rowboat swayed the fortunes of a region. Stevens’ job was just getting started, but he couldn’t begin to imagine what tales lay ahead.
I'd like to thank the folks here at the Imaginaerum group - They have helped and encouraged me on the writing angle of this CJ, and I think it has definitely helped.
Replies to the last Teaser:
Luiz P. Romanini, Vlasky, Hieronymus, dubaidude303, ggamgus, Forthwall, jason leo, Jamonbread:
Thank you very much for taking the time to comment - I enjoy reading each one 
Mithrik: Good stuff, I especially like how you made the transitions of the that custom lot smoother with MMPs.
Thanks! It was harder than I thought because of the sandy beach, but I think it worked out.
Alex_1210: 1880! soon enough we'll start seeing those horse drawn wagons replaced by cars
Yep... a few more decades *goes searching for some Model T BATs*
vinlabsc3k: Good shots SimCoug!! I like the "loco-depot", 
but the roundhouse is too modern to blend with other buildings.
Thanks, and I appreciate the comment. I also was iffy about using the roundhouse, but I google searched some images of late 19th century roundhouses and there were many brick ones that had a similar look, so I went with it. Plus... I was limited by the number of roundhouse BATs available
-
20
24 Comments
Recommended Comments
Sign In or register to comment...
To comment in reply, you must be a community member
Sign In
Already have an account? Sign in here.
Sign In NowCreate an Account
Sign up to join our friendly community. It's easy!
Register a New Account