Driving along Route 5 just east of Elbridge, motorists may notice a street sign for Halfway Road, or Route 268. The more curious might say, "Halfway to where?"
Accounts reveal this obscure this place was half way between Syracuse and Auburn on the railroad which was built in 1837-39. In the early days when locomotives burned wood instead of coal, trains stopped here to "wood up" and take on water.
One oldtimer recalled :
“I drew thousands of ties and rails from the canal to the road at Sweet’s Crossing and the Halfway station. The ties were sawed to a uniform size and notches were cut in them for the reception of the rails or bed pieces - the latter were pine timbers six inches square and on them were spiked hardwood rails about one and one-fourth inches thick by three inches wide.
"Between the rails the ties were scalloped to a thickness of about four inches at the center, thus forming a smooth track, not the iron horse, but horses of veritable flesh and blood by which the little four wheel cars were drawn over the road. In two or three years locomotives were substituted and the maple ribbons were replaced by the iron strap rail that so often proved dangerous and sometimes fatal to the unsuspecting passengers when a broken bar or loosened spike caused an ugly snake head to shoot up through the floor of the car. “ (Baldwinsville Gazette & Farmers' Journal, March 17, 1887
There was a hotel here that catered to passengers, especially traveling salesmen called drummers. It also served as the depot where people purchased tickets and waited for the train. During the day, a salesman would hire a rig — a horse and buggy — and travel through the countryside peddling his wares. This saved farmers precious time of having to spend hours traveling to town for essentials.
But on the morning of December. 16, 1861, sparks from a passing locomotive set fire to the roof of the hotel burned to the ground. No fire department existed then and efforts by a bucket brigade were useless. It was reported in the Syracuse Journal the following day that Edward O. Woods, owner of the hotel, suffered a loss of $1,500 and had no insurance.
The newspaper noted: "Everything contained in the hotel was burned and members of Mr. Woods' family did not even save a change of clothing. "It was with great difficulty that the neighbors were able to save the water-house and woodpiles of the New York Central, which were near the hotel, and several times caught fire. This was the third time within a month that the hotel had been on fire, without a doubt having been ignited from sparks from passing locomotives."
The railroad company then built a new station that stood until about 1912 when it was replaced by a larger structure.
A story in the New York Tribune on Oct. 5, 1886, copied from the Syracuse Courier, told of a local farmer's dog, a German shepherd, that was very intelligent. Nightly, in all weather, the dog was always at the station to meet the eastbound passenger train with a lunch and a bottle of milk in his mouth for the train newsboy, called a "news butcher." In exchange he was given the empty bottle and the Auburn newspaper to carry home.
One night, however, the boy, who peddled newspapers on the train, was not aboard. The dog looked wistfully for his young friend but could not find him. The train crew told him to go home but he would not leave until he had his newspaper. A stranger gave the dog one, but the canine was suspicious. He dropped the paper and gazed at it thoughtfully for a few moments.
When he was assured, he was patted on the head by the conductor, picked up the newspaper in his mouth and went home. The head brakeman commented, "That dog is a better errand boy than all the kids in the country."
The tiny settlement of Halfway was a farming community where cattle and produce were shipped to distant places. A Post Office was established there in 1868 and continued until 1903 when rural free delivery was established. By the early 1930s, passenger trains no longer stopped there and eventually the station was closed and razed.
The last stationmaster at Halfway was Robert Carris. By 1944 he had been reassigned to Skaneateles Junction. Exactly when the station stop was eliminated and the building razed has not been determined.
[From: Buckingham, James S., America, Historical, Statistic, and Descriptive. Volume II PP 128-129 Volume II Harper & Bros., New York. 1841] (A description of an early trip on the Auburn & Syracuse Railroad] “On August 9th, 1838 we left Syracuse in a coach that conveyed us to a railway, beginning at a distance of three or four miles from the town, to take us to Auburn; but great was our disappointment at finding that, instead of a locomotive engine, the cars were drawn by horses, of which there were only two to draw about twenty passengers, the horses being placed one before the other, as tandems are driven, and not abreast. “The rails, too, were of wood instead of iron, and the rate of travellng was estimated to be about six miles an hour. We had to wait half an hour before starting, and our progress was then so tedious that we thought of getting out to walk the distance, as the most expeditious mode of the two, when to add to our mortification, we met a train of cars drawn by a single horse coming right against us, and, the rails being single and the places for turning off being wide apart, we had to shift our tandem pair from the front to the hind part of the train, and be drawn back about a mile and a half to get off the track, and let our advancing rival go past us. "After a very tedious ride of four hours in performing 22 miles, we reached Auburn.” |
[From: Combe, George, Notes on the United States of North America During a Phrenological Visit in 1838-9-40, Vol. II pp 71 (Philadelphia, 1840)
June 7. Ther. 58°. Railroad from Syracuse to Auburn. - This railroad was opened only on 5th June, and we travelled on it the third morning of its operation. It was not enclosed, and the domestic animals along the line had not yet become accustomed to the appearance of the locomotive engines and trains.
It was a curious study to mark the effects of our train upon them, as it rushed past. The horses in the fields generally ran away, carrying their heads erect, and their ears bent downwards and backwards; and they turned their heads alternately to the one side and the other to catch a glimpse of the dreaded enemy behind. One horse, however, turned round to us, and presented a bold and inquiring front. He erected his ears and turned them towards us, stood firm on his legs, and looked as if he would “defy the devil.”
The sheep and lambs fled in terrible agitation and confusion. The swine early took alarm, and tried to ran from before us. When we overtook them, they endeavored, in an ecstasy of fear, to push themselves through the fences, if there happened to be any, or into the banks.
The cows fled, but were speedily breathless, and gave up in despair. A huge breeding hen rose suddenly from her brood, and put herself in an attitude of defense, without moving a step. Another hen, without a brood, flew straight up into the air, in a paroxysm of fright. Fortunately none of these animals ventured on the railroad, and we arrived at Auburn, distance 26 miles, in one hour and ten minutes, without accident or detention.
In a separate car were two stout, rascally-looking convicts, chained together, under charge of an officer, going to Auburn state-prison. They were merry and reckless, and came out at the half-way station to have their last supply of tobacco and whisky, before entering on the life of temperance that awaited them in jail.
