On July 2, four days before the tragedy occurred on the Montreal, Maine and Atlantic in Lac Megantic, Quebec, the weather was bleak and timely for another photo trek up north. The first stop was Millinocket, a paper mill town. After looping around and through a post-World War II suburb, I stumbled upon a scene that I will never forget. Standing prominently above a horizontal stretch of postwar housing was a magnificent BAR coaling tower. The scene brought to mind the same dramatic moment when the twin towers of Chartres Cathedral exploded into my view across a vast field of yellow mustard flowers in France forty-six years earlier. Medieval cathedrals were deliberately designed to be the tallest structures in the region. They were designed to articulate the surrounding buildings and spaces. All things, including the local inhabitants, were expected to pay homage to the Church. In the Millinocket yards the coaling tower not only served the hungry steam locomotive but continued to be an iconic element that exuded a commanding presence over the railroad landscape. The juxtaposition of the colorful housing cluster in front of the tower was a tremendous compositional moment that I will never forget.Once I passed beyond the housing, I carefully walked through the rail yard to digest a diverse array of railroad detritus lying before me. The coaling tower was in better shape physically than its counterparts found at Northern Maine Junction and Derby. There were no coal chutes but everything else was there including cables, pulleys and the requisite lift equipment used to hoist the coal to the top of the tower. The picturesque but dilapidated remains of a giant coal storage shed, resting in repose at the foot of the tower, were overwhelmingly evocative in nature. No coal was left inside the latter because most of the roof had caved in. It was a handsome wreck. Lurking nearby were an operating turntable and three surviving stalls of an eight-stall concrete round house. Collectively all of these elements added up to an awe-inspiring experience on the BAR, even though steam engines dropped their fires long ago.Later in the afternoon I drove another fifty miles to Oakfield where I was rewarded again with the existence of another concrete coaling tower that was built in 1933. I know the exact date because it was cast into the concrete wall of the coal bin. It is interesting to note that each of the five towers that I had found was graced with a distinctive red plaque attributing the design and construction to the Roberts and Schaefer Co. Chicago, USA. Two of the towers had cylindrical shaped coal bins while the other three were square. None the less each tower had a distinctive yet different morphology that suited its particular function either as a mainline structure or yard facility.After stalking the BAR for three days in the summer of 2013 I was left with the unmistakable feeling that I had been granted a rare glimpse into the essence of a remarkable, picturesque railroad that had cut its teeth on hard times, a variegated landscape and a demanding climate.