This public model railroad has a way, perhaps not unique, to pique the interest and then greatly engage the curiosity and attention of visitors, by building in small quirky “happenings” in its miniature world:
Surely this would delight children (and parents) as they explore, and then accept the challenge to find all of the funny things going on. In the meantime, there are trains going by, that are the primary source of realism. What a great way to start a child on modeling!
GREAT article. The little details you add to a layout really make it come alive. I’ve still got a ton of detail work to add to my layout but so far I’ve added the Bandit skidding to a stop to pick up Frog from the movie Smoky and the Bandit. Some hobo’s camping under a bridge as well as a few riding around in a boxcar with the doors open. Some hunters deer hunting with a bear sneaking up behind them and my favorite, a long line up at the Beer Store. These are just the fun one’s. I’ve got a few others planned as well but just finding the time to do it in the summer is hard.
A large public-display O gauge 3-rail layout that I stumbled on in North Carolina (and now can’t recall exactly where) gave out scavenger hunt sheets to the paying customers - everything from gandy dancers thermite-welding a rail (blu-ish ‘bright white’ LED) to bats in the church belfry. IIRC, there were more than fifty items to look for.
On a home layout, mostly operated by a lone wolf and seldom visited by others, such items tend to get built (how many dinosaurs roam model railroads?) and then ignored. OTOH, things which directly impact operations (working signals, live car loaders/unloaders…) are given appropriate maintenance, since they are kept in use.
I agree that the odd and quirky details interest children. I’m less sure that the steamy car windows are an idea that should be encouraged - which is why the shutters on the upstairs windows of my gentlemen’s club will remain discreetly closed.
I’ve tried to create a few oddball scenes on my layout, too. There’s a mermaid sunning herself on a rock in the bay, a couple of guys with a bulldozer, filling in a hole with barrels of toxic waste in the bottom, a cigar-store Indian outside of Fidel’s Real Cuban Cigars, and of course, the guy with the white jumpsuit, a cape and blue suede shoes, standing next to his hound dog in front of the Heartbreak Hotel on Lonely Street.