Boxcar Blues

Warren was early

NEW CASTLE, Ind. — Folks here figured the mile-long stretch of a hundred-plus yellow rail cars, which divides this small town like a graffiti-covered wall, would leave soon after it arrived.

That was a year ago.

“They stayed and they stayed and they stayed,” says Bruce Atkinson, a local resident. “Then more moved in.”

Tens of thousands of boxcars are sitting idle all over the country, parked indefinitely by railroads whose freight volumes have plummeted along with the economy. And residents of the communities stuck with these newly immobile objects, like the people of New Castle, are hopping mad about it.

Before February 2008, boxcars were a fleeting sight in this hamlet of 17,500 people 50 miles east of Indianapolis. For decades, no more than one or two trains a day traveled down the sleepy short-haul line that cuts through town.

Then rail cars — 20-foot-tall yellow behemoths covered with the sort of spray-painted artwork once associated with New York City subway cars — started rolling in by the dozens and grinding to a halt.

Now an elementary-school playground sits only feet from a line of rail cars covered with curse words. Someone with a paintball gun opened fire on one of the cars but missed, pelting a house instead. The looming cars have been blamed for casting shadows over homes that sit as close as 10 feet from the tracks. One woman says the lack of sunlight has turned her backyard into a mud pit.