My mother’s parents lived toward the south end of Main Street. My father’s parents lived near the north end. I lived with my mother and maternal grandparents until I was three. Railroad tracks crossed both ends of Main Street. Sitting on the front porch, we could hear the train whistle as a train approached town on the South end.
My grandfather and I would hop in his car and drive to the South end of Main Street just before the train arrived in the station, smoke billowing and brakes screeching. Smoke continued to billow from the engine smokestack and steam hissed from the brake shoes. A few passengers exited and uniformed workers unloaded packages. The conductor shouted, “All aboard!”
When the departing passengers had boarded, the engine’s brake shoes hissed as the brakes were released. We heard one chug but saw nothing happen. Then two chugs and the train barely moved. Then came a succession of chugs and the train dutifully picked up the proverbial head of steam. Soon the caboose with its red light passed where we stood and slowly faded into the distance.
This was the highlight of many days and nights for both of us, emblazoned in our minds as we drove back to my grandparents’ house. We never got tired of greeting the train. Its image still visits my mind from time to time.
Photo courtesy of Pixabay
My mother’s parents lived toward the south end of Main Street. My father’s parents lived near the north end. I lived with my mother and maternal grandparents until I was three. Railroad tracks crossed both ends of Main Street. Sitting on the front porch, we could hear the train whistle as a train approached town on the South end.
My grandfather and I would hop in his car and drive to the South end of Main Street just before the train arrived in the station, smoke billowing and brakes screeching. Smoke continued to billow from the engine smokestack and steam hissed from the brake shoes. A few passengers exited and uniformed workers unloaded packages. The conductor shouted, “All aboard!”
When the departing passengers had boarded, the engine’s brake shoes hissed as the brakes were released. We heard one chug but saw nothing happen. Then two chugs and the train barely moved. Then came a succession of chugs and the train dutifully picked up the proverbial head of steam. Soon the caboose with its red light passed where we stood and slowly faded into the distance.
This was the highlight of many days and nights for both of us, emblazoned in our minds as we drove back to my grandparents’ house. We never got tired of greeting the train. Its image still visits my mind from time to time.