I guess I'll always have cinders in my blood and steam in my lungs. Trains are a part of my past and a continual part of my memory. I love them.
As a boy growing up near McKinney, KY the railroad was less than 150 feet from my grandparents small house. Back then there was an almost constant stream of freight and passenger trains that regularly ran past that small four-room house and small town.
Freight trains would go onto a siding to let passenger trains go flying by. The passenger trains were so regular, the locals could tell the time of day by the train schedule.
At 3pm each day a passenger train would go past. The locals would say "there goes #3."
As the train flew past, the ground would shake and smoke and steam would come belching out. The person standing next to you could not hear you speak. The engineer would wave and pull down on that steam whistle as if to say "all is well." The # 3 never stopped at the depot in McKinney. It did stop at Moreland just 8 miles away.
The memories of the great smell of creosote soaked rail ties and the fire box smoke and boiler steam mixed in a manner I have never experienced anywhere but along the tracks near my grandparent's house. Was I lucky guy or what? The future was bright then and problems few.
I'll never forget # 3 and those wonderful childhood days.
Glenn <><
Just West of Yesterday
No comments:
Post a Comment