The final whistle blew just after 9 a.m.

It was Friday, June 28, 1963. Sixty years ago.

With that lonesome whistle, a way of life ended, never to return.

Eight travelers rode on the final regular passenger excursion out of Tamaqua.

There was no fanfare. Yet it was a turning point in history. Tamaqua would be forever changed.

At the time, nobody noticed.

Instead, people busied themselves getting to their daily destinations. They rode in automobiles that were responsible, in part, for killing the iron behemoths that had built the country.

And so nobody noticed.

Gradual decline

Changes had been underway for years.

In fact, by the time it ended, train service existed primarily for mail, not passengers.

King Coal was history, and the train industry that carried black diamonds to market was in steep decline.

The iron horses that crisscrossed America and carried men off to war were about to disappear from the local landscape.

Among the final eight passengers were three adults returning home after vacationing in our area.

The remaining five were on their way to either Pottsville, or more likely, Philadelphia.

Actually, little is known about them. They faded into obscurity along with the train they rode - except for one little boy.

At 11 years old, brave Bob Malay of Dutch Hill did something parents fear. He sneaked away from home, alone, and boarded the train.

“I just went up to the window and bought a ticket,” says Malay, now 72.

As a youngster, he was fascinated by trains.

“From the time I saw my first one, I was hooked.”

So he bravely jumped aboard and headed to Pottsville on the final excursion, returning home by bus.

“I remember there was a flag stop at Middleport. I still have the ticket and the bus ticket from coming back.”

Malay was serious about his interest. Trains eventually defined his life.

He graduated from Tamaqua High and went on to serve as a train conductor for 42 years. First for Reading Railroad, then Conrail, and finally, Norfolk Southern.

Today, retired and living in West Penn Township, he basks in a lifetime of rail memories. He spends hours poring over an extensive collection of rail memorabilia and artifacts.

“It was a way of life, back then.”

Malay is likely the only person living who was aboard the final excursion.

Tamaqua central

Tamaqua was a railroad hub, the town’s location key to its role as a rail center.

The town is midway between Williamsport and Philadelphia on what was the Main Line of the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad.

All passenger trains between those two points stopped in Tamaqua.

At the industry’s peak, 34 to 40 passenger trains passed through town daily and Sunday, as routine as trolleys.

If you missed one, you could simply wait for another. Local housewives rode trains into Philadelphia and then back home in time to put supper on the table.

Tamaqua also provided a stop for honeymooners en route to Niagara Falls.

On top of that, the depot, with its full-service restaurant, was a departure point for Big Band stars heading for glamorous dance halls at nearby Lakeside and Lakewood parks.

Special train excursions headed to the parks near East Mahanoy Junction on picnic days. Other trains took fans to basketball games.

Riding the train was the way to go. And Tamaqua was the route to take.

But nothing stays the same. Various factors led to rail travel’s decline.

Automobiles became affordable. Then oil supplanted coal as a heating source. King Coal began to fade.

Today, mass transportation has disappeared from coal region life. Trains are relegated to a curiosity and tourist attraction.

Are passenger trains missed? Hard to say.

Those who remember are older and fewer.

Average, everyday folks have no memory of what once was. Trains were never part of their routine.

You don’t miss what you never had.

And that’s how it was 60 years ago. Nobody noticed when train travel vanished, destined for annals of history.

On June 28, 1963, the final passenger train rumbled out of Tamaqua. It faded into the horizon and was gone.

But there was something strange as the sun set on that summer night. Something different. The air was very still.

The whistle had gone silent.