History
The line through Whitton was opened by the Windsor, Staines and South Western Railway (WS&SWR) when the WS&SWR extended its line from Richmond to Datchet on 22 August 1848. In July 1850 the WS&SWR was absorbed into the London and South Western Railway (LSWR).
On 1 January 1883 the LSWR opened a curve enabling down trains from Twickenham to pass the site of what was to become Whitton station and access the Hounslow Loop. On 1 January 1923 the LSWR amalgamated with other railways to form the Southern Railway. In the late 1920s the Southern was planning to extend its third rail electric train system from London Waterloo to Windsor & Eton (Riverside). As part of that plan new development in what was once rural areas were to receive new stations. So, from 6 July 1930 the Windsor Lines became electrified and a new station was opened called Whitton. As today Whitton is a classic Southern structure with steel canopies and pre-cast concrete platforms. Whitton Station survived the war unscathed and three years after the war ended, on 1 January 1948, the station and line passed into the ownership of British Railways. In the 1980s and 1990s the station became part of Network South East and that changed due to the privatisation of the railways. Ever since the mid 1990s the franchise serving Whitton has been South West Trains.
Read more about this topic: Whitton Railway Station
Famous quotes containing the word history:
“In every election in American history both parties have their clichés. The party that has the clichés that ring true wins.”
—Newt Gingrich (b. 1943)
“There is one great fact, characteristic of this our nineteenth century, a fact which no party dares deny. On the one hand, there have started into life industrial and scientific forces which no epoch of former human history had ever suspected. On the other hand, there exist symptoms of decay, far surpassing the horrors recorded of the latter times of the Roman empire. In our days everything seems pregnant with its contrary.”
—Karl Marx (1818–1883)
“When the landscape buckles and jerks around, when a dust column of debris rises from the collapse of a block of buildings on bodies that could have been your own, when the staves of history fall awry and the barrel of time bursts apart, some turn to prayer, some to poetry: words in the memory, a stained book carried close to the body, the notebook scribbled by hand—a center of gravity.”
—Adrienne Rich (b. 1929)