Never too old to play with trains.
I didn't know Jerry Hansen well. But I knew him well enough to know that he loved railroads. He also loved Laramie history and conversation filled with good stories—a fine tradition that may be fading. I will miss his cheerful presence and bright smile.We met five years ago when I was writing an article about the Gangplank, the erosional remnant that provided an easy route up to the crest of the Laramie Mountains for the Transcontinental Railroad. Someone gave me Jerry's number, I called, and was soon immersed in local railroad history. He suggested we drive around to see remnants of the original line, but life interfered and we never did.
Looking east down the Gangplank; note railroad left of Interstate 80. Courtesy USGS.
Laying track for the UP in 1868. From Wyoming Tales & Trails, original source not given.
Jerry's great great granddad, Hans Hansen, worked for the Union Pacific during the first days of the Transcontinental Railroad. For reasons now lost, he settled in Laramie, where Jerry was born about 70 years later. Hans' son, grandson, and great grandson all worked for the UP, but great great grandson Jerry fell in love with trucking when he was 14 and working at the Laramie Safeway. One day they let him back a truck into the loading shed (pause smile), and he was hooked. He lied about his age, got a license (this was the good old days), and drove until he retired at 70 because it was taking him ten minutes just to climb up into the cab (chuckle).Jerry considered himself a self-taught historian. He first got interested through his fascination with trains. When he was a kid, growing up in a family of railroaders, he tried to learn as much about trains as he could, and stumbled upon history in the process. He also spent a good deal of time in the railroad yard checking out everything and everybody, and climbing on the trains rolling around the yard. He gave up jumping on trains as he got older, but his reading and research expanded to include books, old newspapers, old photos, and more. In 2014, Jerry and the late Larry Ostresh, another leading local historian, wrote their own book—Laramie Railroads.
Brand new Union Pacific Passenger Station in Laramie, 1924. In 1985, local citizens saved it from destruction by the UP. It's now a museum (American Heritage Center).
If I had a question for an article I was writing, or because it would be fun to discuss my subject with Jerry, I would stop at the Laramie Plains Museum where he spent four afternoons a week digitizing historical photos, slowly making his way through thousands stashed in a museum closet. I learned not to be in a hurry. After finishing with my topic, we would continue on, ranging far and wide with our story-telling.The last time I visited, it was to ask about the mysterious Right Hand Fork of the Laramie River, which appeared on a map published in 1845 by explorer John Fremont. Jerry was immediately interested; this was news to him. He gave me ideas, sources to investigate, and places to visit after the weather warmed. I'm sorry I didn't get it figured out before he passed.
After we were done dissecting Fremont, Jerry told me about his recent third heart attack. It was a classic Jerry story, with clear highlights, and punctuated with pauses, smiles, and chuckles. It happened while he was driving to Cheyenne to see his cardiologist (pause chuckle). He didn't remember going off the highway, but when he came to, he saw his truck had been stopped by an old railroad embankment (pause smile). He spent four days in the Cheyenne hospital where he was treated like a king, and after surgery he felt much better (a happy ending). It may have been a bad experience, but what a great story!
That was so Jerry. During our visits, it seemed the world was mostly a good place (except when "they" tore down old Laramie buildings). Sometimes I think of Jerry and try to be more like him. Sometimes it works.
