3 minute read

No.27 comes home

John Lunn, retired driver with the London Overground, tells us a fascinating story of how he was reunited with a childhood miniature rail project, in a journey that began 6,600 miles from where he lives today.

As a child, John and his family travelled on a long trip by train, ship and ferry from London, England to a city called Victoria in British Columbia, Canada for a new life. As a schoolboy in Canada, John was introduced to Dave Brown who was the driver and locomotive engineer for a miniature railway, where he met Sam Sunter, who owned miniature train No.27, then known as ‘Isabel,’ and, subsequently, under Sam’s guidance, John found himself driving the train, something he enjoyed immensely. John says, “I cleaned and scoured her until she was fit to work a royal train. Sam must have been impressed with my care for his loco because he stamped my name on the boiler backhead.” John was mystified by this at the time, but the story doesn’t end there, because years later when John had returned to England and had embarked on a long career in the railways, he was contacted by new owners of No.27 because they saw

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his name stamped on the boiler backhead. The miniature train had been returned to UK where it had begun its own new journey. Later, John was able to purchase the miniature train, which had fallen into a state of disrepair. Thus began a stage of restoration for the project. This had its own complications with a level of expertise required, so John sought help, and found it in the shape of his friend Brian and an answer to prayer, Harry Spencer, who had recently started an apprenticeship with the Bluebell railway as a steam locomotive fitter. John, a Christian, was amazed by the way in which he and this miniature train had shared their journey from his childhood to his retirement as a testament to God’s personal care and attention in our lives, even in seemingly small details such as the stamp on the boiler backplate that led to John being able to take on the project years after he first met up with No.27. Next was the naming of the loco. “The name ‘The Railway Mission’ was also an answer to prayer, I couldn't think of a name to replace ‘Isabel,’ her old name, but the Lord clearly said, “The Railway Mission,” so I had nameplates cast and a member of our club, Mick Blackburn, painted them,” John told us. On September 11 this year, Railway Mission Chaplain Christopher Henley renamed the miniature train in a ceremony that John found very moving as it was the first time he’d been able to drive No.27 since 1969. “I last saw her in a friend’s garage in Victoria on a visit to Canada in 1980. To the best of my knowledge 27 hadn't been used since 1970-71. There were occasions when I didn't think the work of restoration could be done, so great was the task. I had set out on this journey without even a thought as to how it could be done, I am not in any sense of the word an engineer or machinist. I didn't in the first instance ask for help I just assumed Brian would be willing to drop what we were doing at the time and get on with rebuilding 27.” “With God, all things are possible. Only believe,” John added. John, pictured on the opposite page driving the restored No.27, would like to record his thanks to former Railway Mission Chair Keith Rose for permission to use the Railway Mission’s name, to Christopher Henley for unveiling the nameplate, and to God for being so involved in the journey.

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