Six Decades of Modeling: The 1990s
The 90s were transition years, as I struggled to find a new direction for my life. Freshly divorced and living in a new condo, I sank into depression. Just getting into the condo was a nightmare: the builders stopped work halfway through the project, and I wound up living in a motel for two months. Eventually things got finished, but only after I threatened a lawsuit.
1991
As a modeling stop-gap, I dabbled once again in Z Scale, inspired by the availability of American rolling stock and structures. I wanted to stay minimal, so I kept it to 16 by 28 inches. There are no photos of this little guy because, at the time, I didn't own a camera.
I sat the layout on a pair of shelf brackets, in front of a sky backdrop. The idea was to stand with one's head in the curve in the center to provide a 180-degree panorama. I began exploring the world of Z Scale detailing, right down to street signs, fire hydrants and mailboxes, which set the stage for some of my future work in N Scale.
1992
After I finally got my head out of my butt, I started work on a new layout that would completely fill the second bedroom. Except that I wasn't satisfied building something conventional. Nope... I had this wackadoodle idea to eliminate layout corners, which I felt destroyed the illusion of an endless vista. Thus I went back to the shape of the first White River & Northern, except bigger... much bigger... like over ten feet in diameter, with a hole in the middle for the operator (and one visitor). And given that I didn't like the idea of having to stoop down to get up into the operating hole, I suspended the layout from the ceiling using cables, pulleys and counterweights.
For the benchwork, I attached two-inch foam insulation sheets to a frame assembled from steel two-by-fours; thus, the White River & Northern III was quite lightweight. I worked slowly, as I was handlaying most of the track. Still having no camera, I bought a disposable one just so I could capture a couple of progress shots. It almost wasn't worth the effort.
Meanwhile, I met and married my second wife, who became somewhat irritated by my lack of progress with the "floating doughnut." My quandary: I couldn't devise a backdrop for it, because it would have to vary in height, seamlessly, from one to four feet. Obviously I hadn't thought that one through when I embarked on the project...
1995
Finally I'd had enough of "When do I get to see the trains run?" and put everything in the dumpster. Then I took the leftover foam insulation sheets, glued them together into two pairs, and plopped them on a set of shelf brackets. Thus was born the White River & Northern IV, "the one where the trains actually ran."
Although I didn't know it at the time, I'd actually embarked on what was to become my "magnum opus," the layout representing the peak of modeling career. One of the more significant influences Rick Spano had on me was his love of animation, and for the first time I had a layout that could feature my own take on animation in N Scale. Ultimately I'd created fifteen animated scenes, including some of my most ambitious projects, such as the fully-functional excavator and the first of a series of "model-of-a-model" functional microminiature layouts.
I was definitely on an upward trajectory. I began cranking out articles for Model Railroader magazine. I was also exploring the world of N Scale super-detailing.
1997
Then my modeling world took a sharp right turn. Rick Spano's Sceniced and Undecided was being photographed by Lou Sassi for Great Model Railroads, and Rick recommended that Lou go see my WR&N IV. And he did. No matter that it was only around 20% complete; Lou's immediate reaction was, "I want to shoot this for GMR. Can you have it close to done in 9-10 months?" Well, what was I going to say? "Sure!"
Coincidentally, just as I ramped up my modeling effort to 11, I was laid off from work. Thus I was thrust into a classic good-news-bad-news scenario: I had ample time to model, but I also had no income. The photo shoot went very well, even though I only had about 70% of the layout finished—the density of detailing provided more than ample material—but then, when it was all done, I began a long, slow meltdown as I endured two years of unemployment. If that wasn't bad enough, my wife (understandably) had had enough, filed for divorce, and moved out.