Harold Ziehr — Rails, Roads, and a Library Card
Harold Ziehr tells a story the way a freight rolls through town—steady, detailed, and full of side tracks you’re glad he took. His life has followed the rails in more ways than one: a father whose railroad work kept the family moving, his own early railroad jobs, years of service in the U.S. Army that opened the world, and (back home) a deep connection to the Galesburg Railroad Museum.
Today, you’ll often see Harold and his wife, Dorothy, visiting the Galesburg Public Library together—checking out books with a library card from another community.
A library connection that crosses town lines
Harold and Dorothy are cardholders at the Oneida Public Library, and they’re able to use that card at the Galesburg Public Library through reciprocal borrowing in the Resource Sharing Alliance (RSA). It’s a regional partnership that allows patrons to borrow across participating libraries—an everyday example of how libraries work together to keep access open and convenient.
For Harold, it’s simply practical: “We were disappointed when we lost our Galesburg card,” he said. “But that’s okay.” Now, their Oneida card keeps them connected to the collections and services they enjoy here.
A childhood shaped by the railroad
Harold was born in Brookfield, Missouri, and learned early how much the railroad can shape a town—and a family. His father’s work followed railroad assignments and machine shops, and with each change came another move: Centerville, Iowa; Peoria, Illinois; Pacific Junction near the Missouri River; Burlington, Iowa; and eventually Galesburg.
Some of Harold’s strongest memories live in those places: the smell of cut steel, the rhythm of work in the shops, and the busyness of yards where lines met and trains were sorted. In Galesburg, he watched the railroad evolve as diesel replaced steam and the work changed with it.
He also remembers the rare thrill of riding in a locomotive cab as a teenager—watching the world fly by and feeling, in a very real way, the power and precision it takes to move a train safely down the line.
Service, travel, and a wider map
When friends enlisted, Harold did too. He completed basic training and medical training before shipping overseas to Germany, where he served with the 58th Evacuation Hospital, a 400-bed unit that could be set up in the field under canvas. It was demanding work, and Harold stepped in wherever he was needed—learning medical procedures, supporting fellow soldiers, and helping during maneuvers.
The Army also expanded Harold’s world. During his service, he traveled widely—visiting places like England, Scotland, Italy, and Greece. Those experiences left him with a lasting appreciation for the way people and systems (whether military or rail) depend on teamwork, preparation, and steady hands.
Back home, the rails still calling
After returning home, Harold worked locally—including time with the water department and later the post office—but trains never stopped being part of his life. He held several railroad-related roles and responsibilities over time, including work connected to passenger trains and roundhouse operations.
He also became a dedicated railfan—taking photos, collecting models, attending train shows, and connecting with other railroad enthusiasts. The railroad, for Harold, has always been more than a topic of interest. It’s been a thread running through his whole life.
Building a home for railroad history
That thread eventually brought him to the Galesburg Railroad Museum. Harold was among the early volunteers who met, planned, and worked to create a space where local railroad history could be preserved and shared.
He’s the kind of volunteer who doesn’t just show up—he stays, sands, paints, fixes, hauls, and does what needs doing. Harold helped with hands-on restoration work (including on the Railway Post Office car), supported museum efforts through the years, and remains proud of what the museum has become: a packed, meaningful collection that tells the story of a railroad town and the people who built it.
On the same line
Harold’s story reminds us that libraries, like railroads, connect people. They connect us to learning, to memory, to place, and to each other—even across town lines.
In Harold Ziehr’s case, that connection stretches from roundhouses and rail yards to museum halls and library shelves. A life shaped by movement and history continues in a quieter rhythm now—walking out the doors with a stack of books and the steady comfort of belonging.
Stories from the Stacks celebrates the people who bring the Galesburg Public Library to life—lifelong readers, curious learners, families, dreamers, and everyday neighbors. Have a story to share? We’d love to hear it. Contact Heather at director@thegplf.org.
