Filmmaker
hits the railways
JERI ROWE, Go Triad
Thursday, March 18, 2004
__________________________________________________________ There’s
something about railroads that I just love. Maybe it’s that rose-colored
idea of travel, of catching a rail like some modern-day Woody Guthrie. All I know
is I never tire of hearing Steve Goodman’s “City of New Orleans.’’
Or better yet, I could eyeball all day the intricate layouts created by the Carolina
Model Railroaders at The Depot in downtown Greensboro and watch those small, make-believe
diesels slice through a town the size of several kitchen tables stacked end to
end. So, when Winston-Salem filmmaker Rob Van Camp passed along his latest
documentary, “Great Scenic Railway Journeys,’’ I knew I’d
watch it, especially with UNC-TV rolling it out this weekend during its annual
fundraising drive. But I never thought I’d watch it again and again.
Maybe it’s the train geek in me. Or maybe it’s just my 5-year-old son
saying repeatedly, “Dad, can we watch the train video?’’ But whatever
it is, Van Camp has delivered a cinematic love letter to train enthusiasts nationwide.
Two years ago, Van Camp trained his camera on 22 scenic railways nationwide
for nearly four months. He caught 280 hours of film and trimmed it down into a
110-minute documentary in which he teammed up with acclaimed storyteller and musician,
David Holt, and offered up such passenger soundbites as “This shows you romance
isn’t dead.’’ But Van Camp’s images are what grab you.
He climbed onto a helicopter, clamored on top of a caboose and perched on the
nose of a 40-ton engine to snag shots that seem as American as a Grant Wood painting.
So, it’s no wonder that his mother said to him after watching his
latest documentary: “Rob, I don’t want to know how you got that shot.
As long as you’re home and safe.’’ But I think we’re
all better for it. Sure, “Great Scenic Railway Journeys’’ is a
public-relations postcard. But during a time when half of the railroad tracks
have disappeared nationwide because of merged railroads, highway development and
dwindling need, Van Camp’s documentary shows you why the backbone of American
transportation needs to be preserved, protected and even admired. “I
just want people to think,’’ says Van Camp, 39. “This is our life.’’
Like any kid, Van Camp got infatuated with trains early. He got his first
model train set at age 4. But he really fell in love with the whole romantic notion
of trains when he was 25, working in the Winston-Salem office of WFMY (Channel
2) and looking for a feature on a slow news day. That’s when he discovered
the Yadkin Valley Railroad. It’s a 60-mile line that winds through central
Noth Carolina and hauls everything from chicken feed to coal from Rural Hall to
North Wilkesboro. Listen to Van Camp’s feature, and you’ll hear the
thick-tongued accents of a mechanic, barber and former Mt. Airy cop who talk about
their passion of working on an engine plugging along at 35 mph. His four-minute
piece — a lifetime in local TV news — won a handful of awards. But that
one piece also did something else. When he left WFMY in 1993 to start his own
one-man video company, he knew he wanted to do more documentaries about trains
and the people who keep them running.
Today, he’s done eight – one
as far away as Australia. “What makes it for me is when I talk to
the people,’’ says Van Camp, who won eight regional Emmys for his documentaries.
“It only takes one person to save a line, and it’s amazing because that
one person can make a positive impact in the world. All it takes is a spark.’’
Van Camp has been busy this week. After spending four days shooting the
ACC Tournament for the Atlantic Coast Conference, Van Camp flew to Grand Rapids,
Mi., and later to St. Louis, Kansas City and Pittsburgh. Tonight, he’ll drive
to Roanoke, Va.; On Saturday, he’ll head south to Columbia, S.C. All to do
the same thing: go on-air and pitch for PBS and his documentary during their annual
fund drives. On Sunday, he’ll do it all over again for UNC-TV. It
must be working. His documentary has raised tens of thousands of dollars for PBS
stations nationwide and sparked a renewed interest in scenic railways. One general
manager of a scenic railway in Boone, Iowa, told me he got this recent e-mail
from a PBS viewer in Pennsylvania: “Saw your special on PBS. Wow.’’ 
A steam engine at the Great Smoky Mountain Railroad comes over Fontana
Trestle west of Bryson City, Tenn. 
Robert
Van Camp shoots from the top of the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona. The train
had just come out of a tunnel, and if you look at the upper left part of the picture,
you’ll see the train’s antennae. Robert makes sure he doesn’t stand above the
antennae or he’ll get clocked and fall 20 feet. 
Robert Van Camp shoots the Branson Scenic Railway in Missouri from the
bottom of a gulley, thanks to a ride from a local helicopter to that particular
perch. 
Robert
Van Camp shoots from the back of a train to get the shadows going across an engine
at Verde Canyon Railroad. 
Rob
Van Camp stands at a place called The Narrows, about 1,000 feet u0p, and shoots
the Western Maryland Scenic Railroad. 
Robert
Van Camp stands in the back of the Durango and Silverton Scenic Railway. 
David
Holt, host of “Great Scenic Railway Journeys,’’ stands on the back of the caboose.
He’s worked with Rob Van Camp on five documentaries. 
Rob Van Camp trains his camera to catch scenes from Cumbres and Toltec
Scenic Railroad in New Mexico, the country’s longest – and highest – narrow gauge
railroad. The Cumbres and Toltec is more than 60 miles long of track three feet
wide – standard is 4 ˝ feet – and it runs 10,600 feet above sea level at Cumbres
Pass. 
Rob
Van Camp shoots the Verde Canyon Railway in Arizona. He started shooting across
the river and kept panning to get the catci in view. 
Rob
Van Camp stands on top of the largest Baldwin 2-8-0 engine in operation in the
world. It has the power of four diesel engines, and he’s working to get a tight
shot of the whistle blowing. | 
