The internet has an amazing ability to find half-remembered things, like a science-fiction short story set in the Boston subway, for example, or a silly TV commercial for a short-lived breakfast cereal. This picture, however, was so vague in my memory that I didn’t even try to Google for it. I doubted that “something something steel mill something something modern Pennsy steam” would yield any worthwhile results. One recent day, I peered into the volunteer-run bookstore of a suburban library, and there it was, prominently placed on a book cart, facing the door, so that I couldn’t possibly miss it. I recognized it instantly, even though I had last seen it nearly 40 years ago on Mrs. Yahn’s art-class bookshelf. The cover price was $1. A handwritten sticker in the corner marked it for $5. It cost me a mere 50 cents.

The book is “The Art of Perspective Drawing,” written and illustrated by Simon Greco, and published by Grumbacher in 1968. It’s one of those big how-to softcovers you’d find in any art-supply store (or used to, back in the days of physical art media. You kids have no idea!). It probably stayed in print for many years. Now that the search is over, let’s have a closer look, shall we?

There’s not much information about Simon Greco on the internet, beyond the short bio in the book. He did both fine art and commercial illustration. He taught at the college and adult-education levels. He did, in fact, do commissions for the Pennsylvania Railroad. Perspective seems to figure into many of the pieces that I was able to find, so he was a logical choice to produce a book on the subject.

I’d vaguely recalled the locomotive as a T1, which it obviously isn’t. Experienced Pennsy steam-spotters will recognize it as a Q2, an obscure locomotive that rolled out of the shops just as the curtain fell on Pennsy steam locomotive design. You can’t tell from the cover that it’s a duplex, but a less tightly cropped black-and-white reproduction of the same painting appears on page 32, and four cylinders are clearly in evidence. Caught between the Pennsy’s older, simpler steam power, and an influx of diesels, the Q2s had a very short service life—from 1945 until about 1951. So why is it on the cover of a 1968 art book? I have to assume that Mr. Greco combed his portfolio for past works to illustrate his lessons.

The placement of this locomotive is curious. Sure, it’s next to a blast furnace, not that unusual for a Pennsy engine. You’ll no doubt recall the 1944 Pennsylvania Railroad calendar painting of an M1 hustling war goods past a row of furnaces as Uncle Sam rolls up his sleeves. But this engine isn’t on a steel-mill-adjacent main line, it’s inside the mill complex itself. Note the sharp spur into the building just behind it. Why? A Q2 was road power. You wouldn’t switch an industry with it. Mr. Greco is no longer around to explain, so it shall remain a mystery for the ages.

There’s a starkness here that reminds me of the works of Giorgio de Chirico, but softened a little by the presence of the standing figures. The style sets it apart from a Grif Teller calendar, even if the theme doesn’t. The colors and composition pleased me then, and I still find them pleasing now.