Evening star., 1955-11-29
The
Rambler
cIdns. cIons. cIuns
Goes the Trolley
By JACK JONAS

The people who furnish public
transportation here when the
Capital Transit Co. is no
more had better sign In blood q
pledge to hang onto the Cabin
John line.
This trolley run is the In
triguing black sheep Of the FAM
lily Of staid old fussbudgets plod-
ding along Wisconsin avenue or
Florida avenue or Fourteenth
street. They can take away the
rest, but the, man who touches
the first torch to the Cabin John
rails win need q contingent from
Fort Belyoir to back him up.
The Cabin John line. despite
its modern equipment. Is WASH
ington's last link with the Too
nerville Trolley and the old In
terurban. Riding 1t Is Q real
adventure-an experience with
all the enticement Of sin. and all
the neighborliness Of church
social.
THE WEAK-HEARTED had
better take along . regular on
his first ride.
The streetcars on the Cabin
John line forget their city man
ners when they pass the point
where the third rail Is exchanged
for the overhead trolley. They
begin to act like schoolboys who
have just shaken OF the truant
oficer. They pranee with the
sparkle Of q Haydn quartet. or
roll along like a rollicking noun
tain tune.
That happens after o car has
completed its humdrum journey
through the busy downtown, and
has wound its way through se-
date old Georgetown. It reaches
Its point of abandon in the wilds
along the canal.
Here the iHnps take over. The
wheels scream on curves, bushes
at the side Of the right-of-way
slap against the windows, sheer
cliffs drop away ait the sides.
The Streetcar picks up speed
clattering over trestles with q
racket that can be heard for
miles Swaying frighteningly.
Its passengers are a study In
contrasts. too--executiyes with
their briefcases. carpenters with
their tool boxes. fishermen with
their creels and rods, maids on
their way to and from work, typ
lists and clerks. teen-agers on a
lark. They know one another.
Conversation, even at the hor-
rible going-to-work hour in the
morning, is the rule.
The Cabin John line has car
ried countless picnic lunches toI
favored spots on the canal. It
has carried unknown numbers
to laugh-fill days at the Glen
Echo Amusement Park.
Its motormen are q special lot,
too, particularly on the early
morning run. They know their
regular passengers. and often
peer expectantly up q path II one
Of these is not at his stop at the
accustomed time. II the motor
man sees him coming, the street.
car waits.
The motorrnan profits at times.
A motherly lady with an arm
load Of sacks dropped one Of
them on the other day as she
entered the car. A cake. she told
the motorman, made especially
for him.
"STREETCAR" Is a misnomer.
The Cabin John line pokes six
miles into brush and woods, Of
fering only an occasional glimpse
Of paved roads and suburban
homes.
Its riders feel q proprietary
interest. When the transit COM
pany sold Glen Echo. a tremble|
shook every stop along the
Cabin John line. The patrons
feared that with the park gone.
the streetcar line would be next.
To quiet the uproar, the tran
sit people had TO put out a spe-
cial disclaimer, pointing out that
sale Of the amusement park
would not affect the lines opera
ton.
Then the engineers came along
with their modernization plans.
There were hints they wanted toI
buy the Cabin John line right
of-way for q fancy new road to-
lead to q second deck over Chain
Bridge.
And now there is talk Of re-
placing the present streetcar-
bus transit firm with an all-bus
operation, and rurnblings Of dis
content are heard again at the
Cabin John stops.
Do away with the Cabin John
line?
Ridiculous.