IT'S OCTOBER 4, 1999, and like any good shortline owner, Ward Kimball is out supervising a track crew changing out crossties. He is a slight man, with wispy white hair sticking out from underneath an engineer's cap. He surveys the scene through his trademark heavy, black circular-rimmed glasses. "Fifty years of termites," Ward remarks with his characteristic grin as another rotten tie is extracted. Since 1936, his railroad has played host to thousands of passengers, including such luminaries as Walt Disney. It's been the subject of hundreds of newspaper articles and television reports, and has been featured in dozens of magazines, from TRAINS to Popular Mechanics to Life. Of course, there's more to this story: Ward's railroad is only 500 feet long, and it's located in his backyard in suburban Los Angeles! It is, of course, the Grizzly Flats Railroad, Ward and Betty Kimball's storied 3-foot-gauge pike. Operating continuously since 1943 and proudly called the "Scenic Wonder of the West," the line has gone through many changes recently, including the relocation of much of its equipment to a railway museum. But this colorful time machine still operates today, with Ward and Betty providing friends and family with memorable afternoons steaming back and forth among the orange trees. The Kimballs purchased their first piece of rolling stock in 1937, after learning that the Southern Pacific was disposing of cars from its Owens Valley narrow-gauge line. Ward had a steady job as an animator at the Disney studios, and the newlyweds had just purchased a 2-acre lot among the orange groves in the L.A. suburb of San Gabriel. They were preparing to build a home, and thought a passenger car would be a perfect place for Ward's model train layout. For $50 plus transportation, the Kimballs took title to former Carson & Colorado 1881 Barney & Smith coach No. 5. In 1938, the coach was joined by an 1881 Mogul locomotive from the Nevada Central. The 2-6-0 was shipped by gondola car to SP's Taylor Yard, where SP employees gave it a brief inspection. It was then trucked to the Kimballs' property. Ward recalls that word quickly spread about the locomotive's arrival. By the time it was ready to be winched down the unloading ramp, a small crowd of local farmers had gathered to see what this crazy guy from the city was up to. As the old 2-6-0 dropped down onto the rails, the crowd broke into applause, "and so I figured I was accepted," says Ward. The Grizzly Flats railroad had begun! Restoring the engine was an adventure shared with family and friends. All the work was done in the Kimball backyard, with a host of talented people lending a hand. One of the more unlikely players in the story was the local milkman. While making his rounds one morning in 1940, he noticed smoke coming from the locomotive, then saw a boy running from the cab. He investigated and found the prankster had lit a fire using the coal remnants on the floor of the cab! The milkman quickly doused the fire, and the locomotive sustained only minor damage. Over 4 years, the 2-6-0 was stripped down to a shell and slowly built back up. During the restoration, Ward decided his locomotive should take on a new personality, one more in keeping with the brightly decorated motive power in use around the time she was built. Initially, Ward struggled to come up with ideas for the new appearance. "The fact was, I had no idea what color to paint it," he recalls. Inspiration came from his visit to the 1939 San Francisco World's Fair. He took many photos of the 3-foot Nevada Central locomotives dressed up for a re-enactment of the Golden Spike ceremony. Ward took what he had seen, added a little Kimball wit and creativity, and created an attractive vermilion-and-olive color scheme for his locomotive. He renamed her Emma Nevada after a famous early-day Nevada opera star. The more traditional decorative elements were supplemented with original Kimball paintings of female figures on the back of the cab, as well as elaborate oil paintings on the headlight. In 1941, the Kimballs cut down a few more orange trees to make way for a two-stall enginehouse. If this didn't convince the neighbors that Ward really was going to operate the locomotive in his backyard, the arrival of 3 tons of Utah coal in April 1942 certainly must have. Finally, on May 22, 1943, the refurbished Emma Nevada was steamed up for the first time. To haul passengers, coach 5 had been repainted a deep yellow and relettered GRIZZLY FLATS RAILROAD. And so began the tradition of the Kimballs' famous "steam-ups." They were family affairs, and took on a backyard party flavor. It was "live steam" in full size. They continued a few times each year into the 1980's, entertaining visitors from throughout the world. A few months after the first run, the track was extended, pushing the "main line" to its maximum length of about 500 feet. Ward made the most of the situation, though, and laid out the line with a slight curve, creatively placed so you can't see one end of the line from the other. The short run did present some operational challenges. The basic philosophy was to open the throttle up in front of the enginehouse, charging ahead to about the driveway where you would shut off and apply the brakes. Ironically, the only mishap that ever occurred was not from failing to stop the locomotive before it got to the end of the line. Ward recalls it happened during a visit from an SP fireman by the name of Hogg. Considering his job, and with a name that sounded like "hogger," Ward felt comfortable letting him run the Emma. After coupling up to the coach inside the enginehouse, Ward offered Hogg a chance at the throttle. He presented a quick run-through on the operation, to which Hogg responded "Yeah, yeah, yeah," as if it was all old hat. "So I stood there, figuring he knows what he's doing, and all of a sudden he pulls the Johnson bar back, and quickly opens the throttle, and--boom!--he shoves the coach back off the end of the track and through the wall." An angry Ward promptly threw the errant engineer off the property and inspected the damage to the rear platform of the coach, which fortunately was minor. The Kimballs worked hard to create a backyard "stage" on which their trains could perform. After all, what narrow-gauge railroad would be complete without essentials like a three-way stub switch, a water tower, or a depot? And then there's Ward's beloved windmill, which, like the other parts of the Grizzly Flats Railroad, came with its own story. In February 1944, Ward was in charge of putting on a wartime talent revue using members of the Disney animation staff. Driving to a show one night at a rural hospital, Kimball, piloting the station wagon, had become lost. Piled into the car, the rest of the troupe was attired in the white artists' smocks of their trade. As Ward searched for the main road, he happened across the object of another search, a classic antique windmill to complement his railroad. "The clouds parted, revealing the windmill in the moonlight," says Ward. He slammed on the brakes, and over the objections of his colleagues, went running up the steps of the farmhouse and rang the doorbell. Ward was greeted by a Mrs. Eads and expressed his curiosity about the old windmill. On hearing that they had just installed a gas-powered pump to replace the old mill, he explained that he wanted to buy the windmill. Ward waited eagerly as Mrs. Eads went inside to ask her husband if he would be willing to sell it. Mr. Eads seemed agreeable to the idea, but when Mrs. Eads returned to the door, her expression changed to one of great concern. Ward turned around to find two of his colleagues standing on the porch behind him, their white smocks now complemented with railroad porter hats that Ward had brought along as props for the show. "Come along now, Ward," they said sternly. "Can't you see I'm buying a windmill," quipped Kimball, but a glance at Mrs. Eads revealed that his sales pitch had already been ruined. "That's all right, Ward, we'll buy you a windmill ...," they said as Mrs. Eads retreated inside, now certain that an escaped mental patient had found his way to her doorstep. Ward says it took three letters on Disney letterhead to convince the Eads family of his legitimate interest in their old windmill. It joined the Grizzly Flats "stage" in April 1944. Another tale involves the Grizzly Flats depot, which was actually a movie prop used during the filming of Disney's 1949 "So Dear To My Heart." Ward had recommended the design to Disney, and after filming was completed, Walt offered it to Ward. But turning a movie prop into a functional building proved to be more than Ward bargained for. What he got was three walls and a roof. The plans used by the studio carpenters could not be found, so Ward had to fit things back together like a giant puzzle using a photo of the movie set as a guide. To complete the transformation, he added a foundation, rear wall, and the complete interior. Not long after the Kimballs completed work on the depot, Disney brought a friend by for a visit. Then in the midst of planning Disneyland, he was amazed when he saw the depot. Ward recalls: "We had just painted it, and it was beautiful. [Disney] stopped, and he says, 'Did I give you that?' He couldn't believe it. And I said, 'Yes you did, and we did a pretty good job; it took us two years to get it together.' I could see the wheels were turning in his head. 'My God, I could have used this for Frontierland!' He never asked for it back, but he had that funny look on his face." Over the years, the Kimballs also added to their collection of rolling stock. In 1946, they bought a boxcar and caboose from the Pacific Coast Railway at San Luis Obispo. Two years later, a second engine arrived, a 1907 Baldwin saddle-tanker acquired from the Waimanalo Sugar Company in Hawaii. With the aid of family friend Chad O'Conner, the locomotive was completely redesigned and rebuilt over an 8-year period. It was named Chloe (after the Kimballs' second daughter) and entered service in 1956. By this time, the Emma had developed a water leak around one of her staybolts, which, combined with the neighbors' reaction to all the coal smoke and cinders, made the smaller, wood-burning Chloe the line's active engine. The final rolling-stock acquisitions were in 1960, when the Kimballs acquired an SP stock car and gondola. In the early 1990's, Ward and Betty decided that the time had come to plan the next chapter in the Grizzly Flats story--the long-term preservation of their historic equipment at a railway museum. At a museum, the trains could be enjoyed by more of the public than would ever be possible in their backyard. The Kimballs selected the Orange Empire Railway Museum as the new home for the Grizzly Flats. Located on a 70-acre site at Perris, Calif., the museum is home to more than 180 pieces of rolling stock. The Kimballs also extended generous financial support that permitted the construction of a four-track structure to shelter the entire collection. Over two weekends in September 1992, the cars made the 70-mile journey to Perris. Last to move was locomotive Emma Nevada, arriving on November 15, 1992. Since that time, OERM has acquired several other California and Nevada 3-foot-gauge cars. The museum is also working with the Kimballs to develop the site in a way that puts the equipment into a meaningful context. One of the first elements of that plan is the construction of an "armstrong" turntable, an accurate replica of the one at Laws, Calif., on SP's Owens Valley line. Ward still visits the museum a couple of times each year, checking on the rolling stock and offering suggestions on everything from exhibit designs to how to keep the Emma looking her best. Future plans call for a water tower, the Kimballs' backyard depot, and a roundhouse. Coach 5 and the Emma Nevada will remain preserved in their Grizzly Flats appearance. Not that their earlier history isn't of interest, but the story of the Kimballs and their railroad is itself a part of Southern California history. Both the Emma and the coach were owned by the Kimballs for more than 50 years, almost as long as they were in regular service! Restoration of the Emma Nevada for limited operation is also an option. Ward and Betty still live in their San Gabriel home. Although much of the equipment has left the property, the classic railroad scene they created remains largely intact. The Chloe remains on the property, and is still in fine shape, having been re-tubed in 1989. It shares the enginehouse with three passenger-carrying "sugar cane" cars built at Grizzly Flats. Although the steam-ups happen only occasionally now, Ward keeps an open mind about operating the trains. "We don't have a gang of people pushing me to do steam-ups anymore, but even so the family still wants me to do it." And so things are quieter these days. Betty appreciates the reprieve from all those footprints in her garden, and Ward finds more time for his other pursuits. He's currently working with a producer on a video that will tell the whole Grizzly Flats story. Ward is, of course, directing it. Ward has also managed to find some more time for his pre-war toy trains, which occupy two large rooms inside a separate building next to the house. Like the cartoons Ward drew for Disney, these early toy trains were really caricatures of what was running on the railroads at the time. "There's something great about the toy look," says Ward, pointing out the humor in many of the designs. Ward remains a very down-to-earth guy, and he takes his fame in stride. He still loves to talk trains, and if ever there was natural-born storyteller, it's Ward. You can always tell when you've hit upon a subject he enjoys: his eyes light up, and a mischievous grin returns to his face as he converses with you. When asked about his favorite memory from all those years of backyard railroading, Ward says it was the night in 1945 when Walt Disney came to one of the first steam-up parties. Ward remembers that it was Disney's first opportunity to operate a real steam locomotive. "Walt was in the cab, and I asked, 'You want to run it?' and he said, 'Oh no, no.' I told him, 'Look, this is the throttle, and if you want to go forward you just push the Johnson bar; I'll be standing here.' He said, 'Well, OK,' and so he gingerly pulled the throttle and it started out slowly and we went up the track very slow. Coming back, it's kind of downhill, and I worked the air brake a little. His eyes were big, and it was at that moment that he decided that the trains in this park that he was planning someday had to be real steam trains." And so we'll close our visit to Grizzly Flats. Through his cartoons and his trains, Ward Kimball has used his special talent to share his love of railroading with people from around the world, and with the Kimballs' classic rolling stock now preserved in museums, the story of the "Scenic Wonder of the West" is secure for the future.