10 Times Lionel Trains Got It Horribly Wrong!

You've heard the sayings, nobody's perfect, to err is human. And just like people, companies sometimes get things wrong. Even companies that have been leaders in their field for over a hundred years. Hello again, this is Mike with another episode of Toy Train Tips and Tricks. And in this special Thanksgiving episode, we're looking at the times when Lionel Trains got it wrong. Their biggest turkeys, if you will. This topic is by nature very subjective, so feel free to comment on the turkeys I may have missed, or some items that you think I'm judging too harshly. So here we go, in chronological order, Lionel's biggest turkeys. Our first turkey is a pre-war enigma. The line of 00 scale, or double O scale, trains produced beginning in 1938. These trains were scaled to 176th actual size, or slightly larger than typical American HO scale. HO scale was already taking hold in the US, so branching out into double O seems like an odd choice. Double O scale was and is popular in the UK, but these trains share their track gauge with HO scale. Lionel's did not. Adding to the curiosity was that Lionel's double O trains were offered in both 3 rail and 2 rail versions. The few double O operators in the US at the time were almost exclusively 2 railers, so the choice of a 3 rail version also seems quite odd. Lionel also offered their double O trains in scale detailed and more economical less detailed versions. So while the only locomotive Lionel ever offered in double O was a smaller version of the classic O scale number 700E, there are four double O versions. The 001E, 3 scale detailed version. The 002E, the 3 rail less detailed version. 003E, the 2 rail scale detailed version. And the 004E, 2 rail less detailed version. Lionel also produced box cars, tank cars, and cabooses following this same 3 rail, 2 rail detailed and less detailed pattern, and they also produced some scale only versions of the hopper cars. Sales were obviously less than spectacular, so when toy train production ceased in early 1942 due to WWII, Lionel's double O trains were abandoned. And when Lionel again attempted to enter the realm of smaller scales in the 1950s, they chose to go with HO scale instead. The double O trains were orphaned. Lionel's double O scale trains were quality items that looked good and operated well, but the odd choice of scale doomed them to failure from the start. And that puts them in the category of some of Lionel's greatest turkeys. Some things look good on paper, but in reality... In 1943, Lionel had a problem. How to keep Lionel trains in the minds of consumers for the holiday shopping season when, due to wartime production restrictions, the firm could not manufacture electric trains. All available steel, magnets, wire, and other necessary materials were being used exclusively for the war effort. But not paper. There is a long tradition of modelers making very useful and very realistic models out of cardstock. So why not Lionel trains? Designers at Lionel got to work at the ambitious task of designing a complete train set out of cardstock and a small amount of wood. Locomotive, cars, workers, signals, even track. The idea was not just to make a display model, but to produce a locomotive and cars that would actually roll on an assembled paper track. Everything was packaged together in a single box, proudly emblazoned with the title, Lionel Wartime Freight Train and Lionel Steel Goes to War. The idea was brilliant. The execution was not. The cardstock Lionel used for the project was not sturdy enough for much handling, and the etched lines for the models were inconsistent in both definition and location. In short, the models were snoppy. This made most pieces difficult if not impossible to actually assemble and use, and the track was the worst of all. Some folks managed to assemble a piece or two, but to make the included 190 inches of track to actually push or pull the train? Not gonna happen. Today, Lionel's failure is the collector's treasure as few of these wartime trains survived, so original versions can command a very high price indeed. Our next turkey falls into the category of, just because you can, doesn't mean you should. During the wartime hiatus of toy train production, Lionel designers had time to develop many great new ideas to launch for new post-war production, such as the new knuckle coupler and improved plastics. This time off also gave designers time to dream big to design the ultimate train set, and Lionel released the number 4109WS electronic control set in 1946. At first glance this set was nothing special. Like several other 1946 sets, the train was led by a then new 671 steam turbine, although this one was marked 671R, a dump car, a box car, a gondola, and a Pennsylvania caboose. But what was different about this set was how it operated. A special ECU, or electronic control unit, sent radio signals through the track to the locomotive and to each car in the set. With the press of a button, the operator could reverse the locomotive, operate the dump car, and uncouple any individual car on the train. And each set component had a special radio receiver on board. It was revolutionary. No more odd coupling tracks or sliding pickup shoes. Each car had a center pickup roller instead. When it worked, it was a technological wonder. So, what was the problem? First, the price tag. The set retailed for a whopping $75 in 1946, or about $1,200 in today's value. When you could find another steam turbine set for as little as $55, or about $850 in today's currency, the extra features just didn't justify the price for most consumers. The other problem was reliability. Tube radio technology of the time, remember the transistor wasn't even invented until 1947, the tubes were not always consistent. Variations in room temperature could sometimes alter the broadcast frequencies just enough to make the cars inoperable. Likewise, the inevitable vibrations caused by car movement often knocked the individual receivers out of tune. And since the signals were sent through the track rather than over the air, the track had to be absolutely clean, and the special stainless steel wheels of the cars had to be clean and lubrication free. No additional cars or accessories were ever offered for the electronic control set, except for some additional conventional control accessories that were added to the set in 1948 in a desperate attempt to move inventory. But copies still lingered on dealer shelves. The set was catalogued through 1950, but only in an effort to sell old stock. If you purchase one of these sets today, you will likely pay a premium price for a shelf queen, as all of the electronic components are well beyond their useful lifespans, and replacement parts are difficult to find, and even more difficult to properly install and tune. I know that my next turkey selection is going to be controversial, as it evolved into a classic locomotive of the post-war era. But the first version of this classic was more than a bit disappointing in the pulling department. I'm speaking of the original number 2332 GG1 electric locomotive of 1947. What? You say, a GG1? A turkey? Blasphemy! Well, hear me out on this one. The 2332 was a great-looking model of a distinguished period locomotive. It captures the overall look of the classic Raymond Loewy design of the prototype. It's big, it's heavy, it has a horn and working pantographs that could actually be wired to carry electrical current. Versions of the GG1 appeared in Lionel's catalog from the 1940s to the 1980s and beyond. So, what's the problem? In the case of the 2332, underneath that impressive die-cast shell is a single pullmore motor, with no traction tires, no magnetraction. And because of this, the 2332 struggles to pull the modest passenger train it was cataloged with. Never mind a long freight train. Later versions of the GG1 had twin motors and or magnetraction, but the 2332 would often just spin its wheels. And that's why it makes my list of Lionel turkeys. My next selection will meet with few disagreements. Lionel's marketing team in the 1940s believed that brand loyalty was very important for consumers. And that meant that whatever train was the first train in the family would determine what brand the family would stay with. While Lionel trains were known for their quality, they also came with a correspondingly high price tag. While firms like Mark's Trains were producing budget trains, Lionel had to find some way to compete with Mark's on price. Thus, the Scout line was introduced in 1948. Low budget, low detail, no-frills trains that did feature a form of operating knuckle couplers, albeit a design that was not compatible with standard Lionel couplers. While some operators would place the entire Scout line in the turkey category, one item sets itself apart from the rest. The number 1001 242 steamer of 1948. The number 1001 was the first, and the worst, of the Lionel Scout steamers. In addition to its unusual plastic encased motor, it also featured a plastic boiler. This extreme light weight made the 1001 too light to pull even the modest three-car train it was assigned to, and the featherweight steamer was replaced mid-production year by a die-cast version. As a turkey among turkeys, the number 1001 of 1948 certainly makes my list of all-time Lionel goofs. Our next turkey reminds me of the expression, if you put a ribbon on a pig, it's still a pig. By 1950, Lionel realized that the Scout line was indeed a pig. They tried to dress up the Scout line with the number 1461S set of 1950. For $5 more than that year's number 1113 Lionel Scout train, you could get what operators today call a semi-Scout set. The cars shared the same truck side frames as their Scout brethren, but these 6000 series cars had standard knuckle couplers instead of the odd Scout series couplers. And to lead this set was a brand new steamer, the number 6110. Well, it was essentially a number 1120 Scout locomotive with magnetraction and smoke. But the 6110's boiler lacked sufficient room for a regular Lionel smoke unit and the bellows assembly that puffs smoke out the top. So how would the smoke leave the locomotive? Lionel's solution was a hole in the boiler front just above the headlight casting. Oh, there was no actual headlight by the way. And this hole provided a draft to pull the smoke upward and out of the smokestack, or when in reverse, out the front of the boiler. While some kids were thrilled to have a real smoking Lionel steam set for only $19.95, or about $250 in today's currency, most train consumers couldn't get past the ugly hole in the front of the engine and the lack of a headlight. So the number 6110 experiment was a one-year wonder. The 6110 was still a pig and an ugly one at that. You have to wonder what Lionel was thinking with our next turkey. Can you imagine the marketing pitch? Hey guys, let's invest in new tooling to produce a model of an obscure Chilean mining locomotive. The kids will love it! For most consumers, the only thing to love about the number 520 locomotive of 1956 was the price tag, included with two cars and a caboose for $19.95, or about $225 in today's currency. The 520 was essentially a basic 2-4-0 steamer mechanism with a sheet metal frame and a plastic box cab shell. No headlight, no horn, no magnetraction. The engine did feature a three-position reverse unit, however. The pony truck was prone to derailments, and as a result, the engine was often found today without it, and also without the flimsy plastic pantograph detail on the roof. The number 520 was cheap and boring. While it was listed for separate sale in the 1957 catalog, no box has ever been found, so it's doubtful that Lionel actually produced any examples that year, and instead had the good sense to just let this turkey die. Fresh off the marketing failure of the number 520 in 1956, Lionel's brain trust followed up in 1957 with perhaps the most famous blunder in toy train history, the Edsel of model trains, the number 1587S Lady Lionel set. In this case, you can follow Lionel's logic in producing this special pink and pastel-colored train set. Toy trains were predominantly purchased for boys, and there was a vast, untapped market if they could only attract female customers as well. What Lionel did not take into account, however, was that girls who liked toy trains wanted trains that looked like the real thing, just like the boys did. Black steam engines were good. Pink steam engines? The set flopped. Many original sets were repainted by their owners, and other surplus sets were repainted by retailers like Madison Hardware. As a result, true original sets are hard to find and command a premium price. In fact, the set is probably more popular today as a conversation piece than it was for the girls in 1957. And many reproductions have been made over the years. Fakes are also out there, so buyer beware. Sometimes one can snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. And this was the case with my next turkey, the Lionel MPC 6-2175 Sandy Andy Automatic Gravel Loader introduced in 1976. This accessory had every chance of success. The original series of Sandy Andy tin toys was produced by the Wolverine Manufacturing Company from 1914 to the 1950s. They provided inexpensive, reliable operation through the use of gravity. The toys were especially popular during the Great Depression as they were cheap and reliable. Lionel's model was based on these original Sandy Andy designs and should have been the right accessory at the right time. As economic stagflation in the 1970s made inexpensive but reliable toys very attractive, Lionel launched a Sandy Andy marketing campaign that included a special Sandy Andy iron-on design so operators could proudly display the toy on their t-shirts. But somewhere between idea and execution, something went wrong. Whereas Wolverine's original toys were tin and sheet metal, Lionel's was plastic. The light plastic cart often derailed when hitting the release lever at the bottom of the ramp, and it was generally too light to open the coal chute at the top of its run. When the chute did open, it usually failed to close, dumping the entire contents of the gravel bin onto the train table below. As a frustrated Sandy Andy owner myself, I could testify that the accessory was very difficult to adjust for operation and it seldom stayed operating for long. Perhaps if Lionel had splurged a bit on a few metal parts, the outcome would have been different. Instead, the dream of Lionel's Sandy Andy became a nightmare. The accessory would remain in the catalog through 1979 to eliminate stock, and then it faded away. A slightly improved version reappeared for a short time in the late 1980s, but it failed to generate much excitement after the original fiasco. Lionel had managed to turn a reliable and popular design into a turkey. And sometimes technology isn't quite ready for a great idea. Thus was the case with Lionel's RailScope. Introduced in 1988 in O, H-O, and G scales, RailScope promised a real-time, train's-eye view of the operator's model railroad. After all, what model engineer had never imagined being inside an O-scale locomotive and watching his or her model world whiz by? In the O-scale version, a miniature television camera was mounted on an otherwise standard GP9 locomotive. The camera protruded from the front of the locomotive. Thanks to onboard battery power, the TV signal was broadcast through the track to a nine-side receiver, which was connected to a four and a half inch black and white television. Any standard television would work, but special Lionel sets were also available. As the train traveled around the layout, the operator was greeted with a live, monochromatic video feed from the locomotive. A great idea! So, what went wrong? First, the price. The O-scale version, without the additional TV set, was listed at major train retailers for around $270, or around $700 in today's currency. Second was the video quality, which as a low-resolution 162x120 pixel black and white feed was poor even by 1988 standards. Third, as with the electronic control set of 1946, the broadcast signal was sent through the rails instead of over the air. As a result, dirty track interfered with the video signal, and so did electronic noise from the motor and any accessories wired to the track. Layouts needed to be tuned with additional electrical components like transducers to improve the video signal, and the more complex the layout, the more difficult it was to properly tune the signal. The idea was simply ahead of the technology. Sales lagged, and Lionel abandoned the system. While Lionel announced the production of Union Pacific and New York Central versions of the Railscope Diesel, as well as one for American Flyer, these were never produced. By early 1991, surplus Railscope components were being sold through electronics hobby magazines to clear them out of the warehouse. So there's my list of Lionel's biggest turkeys. Did I miss any, or am I being too harsh on some of these products? Let me know in the comments, and of course, while you're there, please like the video and subscribe to the channel so that YouTube knows that you like this kind of content. I hope you had a blessed Thanksgiving holiday, and had many opportunities to keep the trains running. Meanwhile, we'll see you on the next episode of Toy Train Tips and Tricks.