A story by my friend James Lee Attwell (Jimmy)
BEFORE HISTORY BECOMES A MEMORY: Why I Photograph (Steam) Trains
Trains have always been part of my life. In fact, they form some of my earliest memories.
I can’t remember much of what I learned in primary school, but I can vividly remember travelling to the far reaches of the country, visiting remote locations to photograph trains alongside my father and fellow railway photographers.
One memory, in particular, has stayed with me. One of my earliest recollections is missing school to witness the last-ever steam-hauled train over the famous Lootsberg Pass in the Eastern Cape. It was an experience that would leave a lasting impression on me, and one I will carry for the rest of my life.
These metallic giants from an era long gone have always captivated me. There is something almost prehistoric about seeing a steam locomotive in the flesh. It’s a little like standing before a Tyrannosaurus rex. You know it shouldn’t exist in the modern world, yet there it is, right in front of you. An extraordinary machine from another time, alive with movement, sound and power.
Steam locomotives are precisely that: beloved metallic monsters from a bygone era.
In many ways, the march of time should have left them behind. They should be extinct, consigned to history books and museum displays. Yet, thanks to the dedication of countless individuals, organisations and railway preservation groups, some of these magnificent machines have been saved and continue to operate in the modern world.
But their survival is far from guaranteed.
Jimmy took this shot in 2022 near Ceres, Western Cape
Steam locomotives are complex, expensive machines. They consume enormous quantities of coal, require constant maintenance and depend on the skills and dedication of the people who keep them running. As time passes, the challenges of operating and preserving them only grow.
And that brings us to a rather uncomfortable thought: what happens when the day finally comes when steam no longer runs?
It is a daunting prospect. One I hope never becomes a reality.
So, why railway photography?
Like many young boys who grew up fascinated by trains, I always dreamed of working on the footplate. In 2019, that dream came tantalisingly close to becoming a reality, but fate had other plans.
It was around that time that two of my greatest passions, railways and photography, truly collided.
Photography became my way of staying connected to the railway world I had always loved. More than that, it gave me a way to tell its stories.
For me, railway photography has never been solely about locomotives, compositions or creating a beautiful image. It is about capturing something that may not be here forever. It is about documenting the machines, the people, the places and the experiences that make our railway heritage so extraordinary.
But there is another important part to this story.
When I photograph steam locomotives, I am not just telling the story of the machines themselves. I am also telling the stories of the organisations and the people who work tirelessly behind the scenes to keep them alive. The crews who prepare them for service, the volunteers who give up their time, and the organisations that shoulder the enormous financial and practical challenges of keeping steam on the rails.
Their work deserves to be seen, recognised and remembered.
Through my photography, I want to help share their stories, celebrate their achievements and show people what it takes to keep these magnificent machines running. Because behind every steaming locomotive is a group of people who refuse to let a piece of our history disappear.
In some small way, I hope my photographs can contribute to their efforts, helping others appreciate what they do and encouraging future generations to support them.
After all, these organisations are preserving more than machinery. They are keeping an experience alive. An experience that allows you and me to stand beside the tracks, hear the whistle, feel the ground shake and watch a living piece of history thunder past us.
And that is something worth fighting for.
Perhaps this is especially important in the 21st century, when so much of our railway heritage is disappearing, changing or slowly being forgotten.
Every photograph becomes a small piece of the historical record. A reminder that these machines existed, that they mattered, and that there were people who cared enough to keep them alive.
I photograph trains because I love them. I photograph them because of the memories they have given me, the people they have brought into my life, and the stories they continue to tell.
But above all, I photograph them because I want future generations to know what we had, what we experienced, and what we fought to preserve.
Because one day, the steam may stop. The locomotives may fall silent. The tracks may disappear beneath the grass, and the places where we once stood to watch these giants thunder past may become unrecognisable.
And when that day comes, all we may have left are the memories.
And the photographs.
Before history becomes a memory, I want to make sure we have something left to remember.
Visit James’ website/portfolio here: www.jattwell.co.za
