Michigan’s Historic Railroad Stations

Charlevoix

29 The Chicago & West Michigan Railway built Charlevoix’s handsome station in 1892, the same year as the larger Petoskey depot seventeen miles north. Those railway magnates were nobody’s fools. Just look what they created—a Shingle style cottage of immense charm right on the lake (in 1892 still Pine Lake, not yet Lake Charlevoix). If urban train stations act as gateways to great cities, you could just as easily say that this domestic little building framed the gracious “Up North” vacation experience for generations of travelers in ways advantageous to railroad and town alike. Modern eyes inevitably romanticize century-old buildings. But in 1892, this turreted shingle-and-clapboard cottage with the steep pitched roof was entirely up to the minute, brisk and efficient. The Charlevoix Sentinel assured readers before construction began that the building would be “an elegant and modern affair.” The finished product apparently lived up to the newspaper’s expectations—architecturally “it was one of the finest depots on this system,” the Sentinel wrote on May 11, 1892. “The interior is metropolitan in every respect.” The celebration for both the new depot and the railroad’s arrival was held on July 4, 1892. It was an exuberant affair. Sentinel editor Willard Smith was almost beside himself, as his prose suggests: “We celebrated! We celebrated big! We covered ourselves all over with glory . . . a colossal, gigantic blowout! And the folks! Great Scott! They were all here! Ten thousand of them! Not one less! They began coming by hourly trains from Petoskey early in the day, and 3,000 came from Petoskey alone. The excursion train from the south brought 800. The Maccabees excursion from Boyne City brought nearly 350. The steamers Columbia, Crescent and Cummings came from Grand Traverse loaded. They filled the town and hung on to the edges.” 1892—Chicago & West Michigan Railway Chicago Avenue at Depot Beach ARCHITECT: Charles Pelton LAST PASSENGER SERVICE: 1962 CONDITION: Excellent USE: Charlevoix Historical Society Charlevoix Judging by the horse-drawn drays, this was taken not many years after the railroad reached Charlevoix in 1892.The dapper gentleman at center doubtless appreciated the liberty the train brought in tow—transportation much faster and more reliable than either of its predecessors , the wind-blown lake schooner or stagecoach plying miserable roads. (Charlevoix Historical Society) 02 Part 1.indd 29 6/26/12 2:43 PM 30 02 Part 1.indd 30 6/26/12 2:43 PM 31 The Charlevoix depot is a shingle-style cottage that could just as easily have been the stylish lakeside retreat for some grand Chicago or Detroit family.The little structure is eminently Victorian in its exuberant detail and desire to puncture the sky with chimney, turret, flagpole, and gables. Note in particular the little shingled “eyelids” over the narrow slit windows (above), as well as the beak-like finials on the roof.The station’s principal charm, however, is its location on a beach a stone’s throw from the water. Depot Beach is now a municipal park, and the station within it is owned and used for special events by the Charlevoix Historical Society, which renovated it in the 1990s. 02 Part 1.indd 31 6/26/12 2:43 PM 32 Still, progress inevitably comes at a cost. Two days after the great party, the Sentinel reported the first victim of the new railroad—Myron Geer’s dog. “A north bound train cut him in two several times last week,” the paper said, with alarming precision, “and Myron mourns.” In the nineteenth century and the early twentieth, small towns fought tooth and nail to get the railroad to cross their village, knowing it brought a sure uptick in prosperity, with farmers and businessmen suddenly able to move goods cheaper and faster than before. Forgotten, perhaps, is another aspect—how remote and inaccessible some places were before the train chugged into town, particularly in the winter. For a small town like Charlevoix in the late nineteenth century, entirely dependent on schooners or stagecoaches plying substandard roads, inconvenience morphed into spectacular isolation once snow fell and lakes iced over, when little could arrive or leave for months on end. What did the coming of the railroad mean for a northern town like this? As David L. Miles notes in his illustrated history, Bob Miles’ Charlevoix II, it meant fresh food on the table all winter long. Mail six days a week. And...