Few people realize that a handful of factories in the United States still make old-fashioned, huffing-and-puffing steam locomotives. And probably even fewer realize one of those places is on Elgin’s far-southeast side.
When the building construction business took a nosedive, 65-year-old earth-moving contractor Dave Kloke decided to combine his ironworking ability with his longtime fascination for Abraham Lincoln. So he began to build an almost-exact copy of an 1860s locomotive named the Leviathan. Finishing that, well, leviathan project in 2009, he displayed the engine last summer at the Illinois Railway Museum in Union and at train shows in Michigan, Iowa and Rock Island.
That led to an order for him to build a similar locomotive for a theme park in Pennsylvania, which is now under construction. And now Kloke has begun raising funds to build a replica of the train car that carried Lincoln’s body from Washington back to Springfield after his assassination in 1865. In April 2015, Kloke hopes to re-enact that historic 14-day trip, which arguably was the most-seen and best-publicized train trip in history.
Located in an area named Spaulding — a center for light industry and railroad-track connections along the Elgin-Bartlett border — the home base of Kloke Locomotive Works LLC has several exotic earth-moving machines in its grassy front yard, along with a fleet of assorted semis around its gravel yard. But inside a cluttered metal shed filled with thousands upon thousands of metal parts and tools and machines, Kloke’s greatest achievement to date sits on a metal stand.
Forty-five feet long and weighing 88,000 pounds (including its bright-red fuel-and water-carrying tender), this is “Leviathan 63,” a reproduction of a Central Pacific Railroad locomotive of the same name that was built in 1868. The Leviathan was a sister of the historic steam engine Jupiter, which participated in the 1869 “driving of the golden spike” ceremony at Promontory Point, Utah. The ceremony marked completion of one dream Lincoln put into motion but never lived to see — a transcontinental railway route linking the populated East with the frontier West.
“The Leviathan and Jupiter had just a fraction as much power as a modern diesel locomotive. But they were the big dogs of their day,” Kloke said as he showed off his pride and joy. Gleamingly painted in black and red, its drive wheels alone stand 5 feet high.
“People think steam engines of that era were dirty because of how they’re shown in Hollywood movies,” he said. “But they were painted in bright colors like this; and at the end of every run, men came out to wipe them clean. If you wanted to work for a railroad in those days, your first job would be as a wiper.”
He and his construction company employees “putzed with this as a part-time, fill-in-work project for 10 years,” Kloke said. “Then when the construction business collapsed, we got more serious.”
Kloke’s research for re-creating the Jupiter included borrowing wooden foundry “patterns” for the locomotive’s parts that were still being stored by the National Park Service in Utah. The patterns filled 13 boxes, each 2 feet tall, 6 feet wide and 8 feet long. Foundry workers used sand molds to turn the wooden shapes into iron shapes to create the pieces that make up Leviathan 63.
The bright-red 5-foot wheels even bear the same wording as the original locomotive: “May 15, 1861 by A. Atwood — James C. Heath & Co.”
“It was a labor of love. We never really added up the cost of everything,” he said.
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