The Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike

A Beautiful Mistake
By Tom Roe

Part III - An Unpopular Success

 
 

Men line up opening night at the Carlisle interchange. Dated October 1, 1940.

Homer D. Romberger sat in his car as the clock approached midnight, thinking back to what he’d experienced two years earlier, on a farm just outside of Newburg, PA. Homer had witnessed the start of what was largely seen, at the time, the biggest waste of money the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania had spent. He watched in 1938 as Walter Jones, Chairman of the PA Turnpike Commision, thrust his shovel into the dirt to break ground on what was to become the next chapter for our stretch of abandoned asphalt.

Now, in October 1940, he sat at the new turnpike’s Carlisle interchange with a ticket in his hand- first in line to drive through the booths and enter the turnpike, heading West back home to Fort Littleton. A line of cars sat behind him, ready to play their small part in making history. The news of the turnpike’s opening traveled quickly, as just 12 hours earlier, it was announced that the project had officially been completed. A completion that defied the odds of the storied history of failures this stretch of road had in a past life.


When we last left our tunnels, they had been purchased by the newly established PA Turnpike Commission in 1937 as part of a plan to build a paid roadway between Carlisle and Irwin. Construction began in October 1938, but was already facing massive backlash.

The issue was that the project required massive funding to finish by the deadline - all of that coming from programs funded by taxpayers. Despite large portions already being graded and nine tunnels being (at least partially) bored, in order to complete the project according to the schedule laid out, the Turnpike Commission would need to bring on enough labor to build multiple sections at once. Eventually, contracts went to 155 companies from 18 different states. More than 18,000 men worked on the construction of the original section. 19 men would tragically die during its construction.

In addition, the rural towns and family farms this project would cut through saw the turnpike as somewhat of an invasion by the state. Although the towns did want improved roads and transportation infrastructure, many were angered that money was being spent on a new paid roadway through their hometown, rather than the money being used to improve existing free roadways, or expansion of the existing Lincoln Highway, which ran adjacent to the new roadway.

 

The Groundbreaking of the turnpike. Gov. George Howard Earle was in attendance as Walter Jones broke ground, surrounded by the planning commission and engineers. 1938

 

The Rays Hill tunnel looking East. In this photo, you can see the opening of the tunnel is larger than the rest of the tunnel. Above the squared off portion of the tunnel is maintenance area with a track that runs the distance of each tunnel. The bore fir the PA South was not large enough to accommodate the needed air tunnel, maintenance area, or turbine rooms.

Aside from the popularity and funding problems, the project was proving to be a logistical and engineering nightmare. The concept from the beginning had been to design a highway for the future - utilizing new building techniques and standards that would prove a staple of all future highway projects. The commission wanted four lanes the entire length, small grades of no more than 3%, long sweeping banked curves, a clear and wide driving surface for 600+ feet of visibility, and an uninterrupted right of way.

When work began on the now abandoned section, the engineers uncovered a problem with the tunnels. The original design for the South PA RR called for a double track design. However, towards the end of the project, as Vanderbilt and investors grew more and more anxious at the project’s rising costs, the design changed to be a single track through each tunnel. To make matters worse, the tunnels weren’t completely bored. They were excavated, but narrowed in the middle to a point that would not suit the proposed design. They would need to be widened to match the width at each end. The largest section of uncompleted tunnel was the Sideling Hill Tunnel, with a length of 3,379 feet requiring attention.

The original tunnels were also not wide or tall enough, so even the tunnels that were completed at the time of the South PA’s work stoppage also had to be revisited. It was at this time the large buildings that would house the turbines would be constructed. The walls were also reinforced with modern building techniques and materials. Today, the remaining concrete structure and all other infrastructure including stairs, turbines, and maintenance areas are all remnants of this original construction in the late 1930s.

Work on the Sideling Hill tunnel proved to be especially arduous, in large part due to its isolated location. Worker’s huts and temporary housing were made, but workers also stayed at the recently shuttered Sideling Hill camp of Pennsylvania’s Civilian Conservation Corps., building an access road from the Western Portal of the Sideling Hill tunnel down to the camp.

A collapse at the Kittatinny Tunnel also led to a substantial delay and a redesign of the walls.

Despite all the setbacks encountered and extra effort to retrofit the South PA tunnels, engineers estimated that using these tunnels would save around $2 million. This decision would later become very consequential to the turnpike’s future expansion.

When work was finally completed, the debacle continued. Walter Jones, the PTC commissioner, fell ill just as grand opening plans were underway. Plans for a dedication and opening ceremony were made and scrapped repeatedly as bondholders and officials began to get nervous, as everyday the completed turnpike stayed closed, money was lost. To make matters worse, tolls had not even been agreed upon, let alone advertised. Many had attributed the delays to state and national politics, as the project was still considered very unpopular.

 

Walter Jones, Commissioner of the PA turnpike commission.

 

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A map showing the proposed route of the PA turnpike as originally designed.

On September 11th, 1940, the PTC members met to agree on the first fare schedule, and just a few weeks later on September 30th, Commissioner Jones announced the road would open for traffic one minute past midnight the next day.

That’s right, the “Highway of tomorrow” would open with just a single day’s notice.

Leading up to the opening, there was legitimate excitement for motorists in attendance and many clamored to be the first to claim a piece of history. The first motorist to drive on the turnpike, the first hitchhikers, the first out-of-state drivers and many others set out to be a part of the event. What was once unpopular seemed to be attracting the kind of positive publicity the new roadway needed to succeed.

And succeed it did.

Turnpike officials proudly released numbers showing more than double the expected traffic on the road in the first days of operation. The PA turnpike became renowned for its engineering, the beauty it offered travelers, and its success. In 1940, Fortune magazine said “The Turnpike is the first American highway that is better than the American car. As such, it will represent the maximum in road construction for many years. It is proof against every road hazard except a fool and his car”. The number of travelers in the turnpike far surpassed all estimates and expectations. The unpopular project succeeded against all odds. The dream of a highway that would connect rural communities to large cities, make traveling easier, and jumpstart a new kind of economy was realized. And our little piece of old abandoned rail line was finally, after more than 100 years of bad luck, being used. But even in success, the turnpike cannot escape its troubled past.

 

Even an engineering marvel like the new Pennsylvania turnpike can’t stay new forever. America’s love for larger and faster cars, as well as an expanding rural population after World War Two, saw the turnpike showing its age. The tunnels that were once designed for train cars were now too narrow for an expansion project that began in the 1950s. The road needed more lanes, and the tunnels were too small. And unfortunately for our stretch of mistake, their future didn’t seem to be in the budget.

What will happen when America’s growth and American’s rush for larger, faster cars pushes the “Highway of the Future” to its limits? And how will past decisions affect the turnpike’s future, and give rise to the legacy of the abandoned tunnels today? Find out in Part IV - “Larger, Better, Faster, Longer (and more expensive!)”.

The Irwin interchange near Pittsburgh was packed with excited drivers and bystanders on opening night.

The only building remaining of the Sideling Hill Civilian Conservation Corps Camp, where some of the workers stayed while working on the Sideling Hill Turnpike tunnel.

Hey! Thanks for reading. This is the story of how the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike came to be. It is not a complete history or compendium. It is meant to present the story of the abandoned turnpike section in general terms and leaves out or glosses over many noteworthy events, mostly pertaining to the turnpike as a whole and the history of roads and highways in PA and the US, as well as names of people and specific events. This is in an effort to present a cohesive story about just a small portion of the turnpike that now sits abandoned between Breezewood and PA Route 915. If something is left out or simplified for the purposes of this story, it is intentional.