So this past October I received an interesting email. A man—a total stranger—wrote me to say that the original railroad sign from the now demolished Cordaville Station was being auctioned on Ebay. He noted that he had no business relationship with the seller, but thought I might want to know about it “in case you wanted it to return home.”
Now I have written about the sad fate of our railroad station before. It was demolished in the 1970s, but the stone walls and slate roof were purchased (reputedly for $10) and sent to New Hampshire. Unfortunately, the gentleman who purchased the stones never completed his planned resurrection of the structure. He and his wife died a few years back (just before I started to make inquiries, alas) and aside from this one tiny piece of granite that serves as their headstone, no one can seem to say where the material went.
Therefore, YES!! Of course I was interested! Thank you!
I immediately called the seller who happened to be not too far away in Leicester Massachusetts, I explained who I was, what the Society was about, and asked to buy back the piece, hoping he would take pity on us. Now these signs are not small—they are six feet long, cast iron, and weigh well over 150 lbs. How much demand could there possibly be for a sign that couldn’t be shipped and would have to be picked up locally??
I offered what I thought was a highly reasonable price: $250.
Answer: No.
$300? No.
$350? No.
$400? No.
So finally I just asked: “So what price would you be willing to accept?”
“$1200,” he said.
Now it was my turn to say a quick no, and with no little disgust. So much for taking pity on tiny non-profits. Harrumph!
“See you at the auction,” I said, hanging up, holding my tongue.
(I should probably add here that $1200 may sound totally outrageous, but thanks to shows like American Pickers, any type of signage has now become outrageously expensive, and railroad signage is an even more competitive sub-specialty.) $1200 was the full bore retail price on a good day, but I wasn’t about to pay that. So I set my auto-biding program to a maximum of $750, and stealthily waited for the auction.
The moment came and the sign was ours in the last three seconds of the auction: $685 plus tax. (Ha! Ha! Take that!) More than I would have wished to pay, but something we would never have a chance to acquire again. (If any among you, train buff or not, might like to contribute to this repatriation program, we would gladly accept your donation!)
So 50 years after it disappeared, our cast-iron giant has returned home to Cordaville, and after a bit of restoration work, will hold a place of honor at the Museum—all thanks to the thoughtfulness of an unknown gentleman from New York, who thought this long lost artifact deserved another chance to hear trains whistle through the Southborough night.
And now it can.
We thank you, kind sir.