The cover of an issue of Servet-i Fünun, a late Ottoman publication known as the favorite journal of modernity-embracing Istanbul elites, shows a photograph of the November 27, 1892 opening ceremony of the Ottoman Anatolian Railroad as it reached Ankara. The photo shows a gathering of local dignitaries, such as the provincial governor Abidin Pasha, representatives of the sultan’s government in Istanbul, and an array of well-dressed men who we can safely suppose represent the upper echelons of local society. A large arched gateway, adorned with flags and other Ottoman symbols demonstrating imperial pride, has been constructed above the rails on which the first train from Istanbul is about to arrive. The photographic form complements the occasion perfectly, as both it and the train are among the most emblematic of modern technologies. Missing from the photo, however, are two important groups. The first is non-elite locals, who sources tell us came in large numbers from throughout the surrounding region, at least some of whom are said to have reacted in terror to the noise and appearance of the locomotive in the manner of those not yet conditioned to such machines. Even more notably absent are the railroad laborers. While photos of them do exist and are used for the purpose of demonstrating modernization, they nearly always show work in progress. When it comes to celebrating accomplishment and showing off the fruits of Ottoman modernization, photographs such as the one described from Servet-i Fünun are the rule. This paper will argue that images of technologies such as the railroad were separated into sanitized ceremonial images that hid labor in order to project an orderly and modern image, and those of laborers themselves and the process of construction which, while no less modern, lack the air of triumph seen in the former images.