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My Iron Journey A life with steam and steel by Otto Kuhler DJ 1967
My Iron Journey A life with steam and steel by Otto Kuhler Hard Cover WITH DUST JACKET (has been taped, damaged) 1967 244 pages
Like George Washington, Otto Kuhler was an ironmaster's son. The Virginia estate of Augustine Washington supplied ore for smelting in a nearby furnace. But there the parallel ends. Nothing that we know of America's first President hints at an expert knowledge of ferrous metal. Otto Kuhler is different. Otto carne into the world with a steel spoon in his mouth, so to speak, and that spoon moulded his subsequent career. His great contribution to railroading, his pioneer streamline-designing of locomotives and cars in both the steam and diesel eras, sprang directly from his German steelmaking heritage. Appropriately, his life-story is titled "My Iron Journey."
But don't overlook the other big factor in this story: Otto Kuhler is an artist. With dogged persistence he taught himself painting, etching, and designing and has consistently applied these skills not only to his design-engineering profession but also, in a broader sense, to his interpretation of life, notably in his dramatic paintings.
Through a Kuhler watercolor, which I used on the front cover of Railroad Magazine, I became personally acquainted with the man himself in the late 1920's, and ever since then I have followed his career with interest. As time went on, he did some additional work for this magazine: cover paintings in full color, occasional black and white illustrations, and some article-writing. Otto had become a celebrity and I was proud to have him represented in Railroad Magazine.
Even more important to me, though, was finding in him a warm-hearted person who shared some of my own dreams and illusions as to the kind of world we should be living in. His fine sense of integrity, his generous spirit, his appreciation of wildlife, and his sympathetic understanding of animals, especially dogs, mean more to me than the record, however excellent, of what he has done for the railroad industry.
Today, he is living in semi-retirement with his gracious wife Simonne, whom he courted long ago with locomotive cab rides, and his animal friends at his scenically rich Colorado ranch. "Having lived almost alone so many years up here in the hills," he told me, "I have become allergic to crowds." Like Byron, he finds "pleasure in the pathless woods." The vast Western sky inspires him to paint landscapes, often combined with the steam locomotives he loves. Now and then he drives down into Mexico in search of other subjects and other cultures.
Otto Kuhler is not a railfan in the ordinary sense of the word. Fond of railroads, yes, but enthralled by Nature's grandeur and the glory, drama, and beauty of the steam age, and he has a kindly regard for all hobbyists who feel that way too. "The other kind," he dismisses with a shrug, "those more interested in such details as locomotive specifications, numbers, etc., leave me cold and mostly bore me. I had enough of that when I designed, built and ran my engines.
"My wife and I have close friends in many lands," he admits, "some as far away as Asia and Zealand." Both speak five languages.
Otto is no collector. The few artifacts he owns are not important to him. "I learned long ago," he says, "that the only substantial value is land," and he gazes out wistfully over his vast meadows. His tastes are simple. He never buys in installments, has never borrowed money except from a bank, and never lends money to friends or acquaintances. "If a man can't find his own bootstraps," Otto says, "he isn't worth my friendship."
The artist-engineer considers himself deeply religious. "But," he adds, "I have no sympathy for religious organizations, many of which are little more than status symbols." And he says: "I have been in so many tight spots and have picked up knowledge how to get out of them so that I never worry. Simonne and I fear neither the present nor the future, neither life nor death. When things used to gang up on me I'd say to myself, 'We'll see about that'. Sometimes I would get plastered, sleep it off, and come up fighting mad-with strategy, not ernotion. I might get bruised in the mental fight, but never went down."
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