Retiring teacher, coach urges Colony grads to ‘find their 68’
By Jeremiah Bartz Frontiersman.com A football coach using a hockey reference as the centerpiece for his keynote address may
BUTTE — Marty Quaas can talk all afternoon about his model railroad, and for good reason.
Up a steep, winding driveway in Butte, in the basement of the home Quaas shares with his wife, Agnes, visitors are transported back 23 years to Southern California’s rail system of a generation ago. Quaas doesn’t need a time machine, just the model he’s been working on for 13 years to evoke nostalgic memories of the way things were.
The log cabin of the Quaas family doesn’t give any outward signs that rail cars are humming through its basement, but take a step through the home’s basement door and a world emerges in which any kid — or adult, for that matter — could get lost.
Quaas doesn’t tinker with toy trains, he makes that very clear. What he’s built in his basement is a model — a very large model — of the Southern California rail system.
“I come down here and sometimes I just sit and run trains,” Quaas said while the sounds of train wheels on rails filled the room.
The real world condensed
Quaas’s model railroad almost has to be seen to be believed. The multi-level, painstakingly detailed model takes up nearly the entire basement. It has elevation changes and two train yards — Los Angeles and Barstow — and even passes a nudist camp near Cajon Pass, Calif., that used to exist in the real California years ago.
“I don’t know if you want to print that,” Quaas joked.
The train goes from one rail yard to another, passing through mountains, over bridges, through towns and around helix turns taking it up to the highest point of the model.
One particular train car, called The Prez, is an Alaska Railroad car that’s been around the world. Quaas sends the car to other model train enthusiasts to use in their displays, asking only for a picture or story in return. When the borrower is done, it’s returned.
Originally from Glendale, Calif., Quaas moved to Alaska in 1993 with his wife, a New York City native. The pair have been train lovers for years, often camping at the real Cajon Pass when they lived in California to watch trains go by.
A friendly man who’s quick with a joke, Quaas has the soft demeanor of someone careful enough to handle the delicate model trains and tiny houses that make the towns in his simulated world. The couple interact well together, sharing the same interests and loving the adventure of life. She’s quick to add a fact or two Marty Quaas may have left out while he talks about his model, and she’s quick to talk about how great her husband’s creation is.
Marty Quaas became serious about model trains in the early 1960s as a diversion from his job at aerospace company Rockwell International. His wife said it was his way to divert attention from all the electronics he dealt with during the day.
To say Marty Quaas takes his model trains seriously would be an understatement. Twice a month he and some friends have operating sessions. During the sessions, each person has a set of tasks for their trains to carry out. Just like at a real train yard, every move a train makes must be carefully planned and calculated to avoid catastrophe. Everything is controlled from a digital command center, an electronic board with lines mimicking the rails where trains are controlled. Of course, derailments and collisions prove far less deadly in Quaas’ basement, but there is still pride at stake, and even penalties.
When asked what happens when a train derails during an operating session, Quaas pulls out what looks like a medical specimen cup — alluding to a drug test — and howls with laughter.
Outside the model, Marty and Agnes Quaas are active in the real train world, especially when it comes to train safety.
Working with Operation Lifesaver, a nonprofit dedicated to ending collisions, injuries and deaths on railroad crossings and railroad rights of way, the Quaases take their message of safety to all who will listen. What many people don’t seem to know, Agnes Quaas said, is walking or standing on any train tracks, besides being dangerous, is trespassing, since the tracks are considered private property.
Marty Quaas also takes his portable train display, called Mooselip Railroad, to events to showing off some of the model railroading hobby. During the first weekend of September, the Quaases hold an open house to show the entire model.
All that time Marty Quaas spends with his railroad doesn’t bother his wife, she said, because at least she always knows where he is.
“What does a guy do in a bar?” Agnes Quaas said, adding she’s thankful her husband has chosen trains — as long as he keeps them downstairs, that is.
“I told him he could have the basement as long as the trains stayed here,” she said.
The rails will live on
Marty Quaas doesn’t have any plans to add to his model train anytime soon. He said it’s prefect the way it is.
The real railroad calls him, too, with his favorite trip being the Alaska Railroad’s Hurricane Turn. But Marty Quaas said the rail in Alaska pales in comparison to what exists in the Lower 48, the same rails that shaped his love affair with what’s known by some as the relic of transportation.
No matter what happens to the rail system in the United States, Marty Quaas rests easy knowing at least a part of it will always be running in his basement.
“I try to run it as much like a real railroad as you can,” he said.
Contact Michael Rovito at michael.rovito@frontiers-man.com or 352-2252.


