04 12 00

trains

I live in a train town.

The railroad made this town what it is today. Four major lines run through the city's borders; two run right through the middle of downtown. One of the oldest buildings in the city is the old train station, which is now home to a train-themed restaurant and the city's historical society.

The trains don't stop at the station anymore... In fact, most of the trains just speed through without slowing down. However, one branch right downtown, just across the street from the old station house, stops at the grain elevator. Does it say something about my town - about the area in which I live - if I say that grain elevator is the tallest building in the county?

Sometimes at night, when you go down to the bars, you can see an engine idling on a siding. This is the heart of my city where these trains stop. You can go right up and chat with the engineers. Some are friendly. Some are not.

The city had to build two fire stations, one on each side of the river. The two major lines through town hug the river through downtown, and not too long ago derailments were common. Traffic would be snarled for hours when that happened, since the only way around was a half-hour detour through the city's back roads. If a fire broke out on the West Side when the crossing was blocked, the East Side fire engines could not make it to the fire in time to help. Hence, two fire stations. The bypass over the river and tracks negated the need for a second fire station. The West Side station exists only through community support and nostalgia.

Santa arrives every year on a train. It was a bit confusing as a child, hearing the stories about Santa's flying reindeer... And then seeing the big man himself riding a train into town. It was explained away somehow, but I don't remember the details; I just remember that I was satisfied by the rationale.

Once or twice a year, someone walking along the tracks gets killed by a train. Sometimes it's a suicide and sometimes it's not. Once or twice a year, someone drives around the gates and gets creamed by a speeding train. It's always their fault. Don't drive around a crossing gate, idiot. They're there for a reason.

All this is train to me... But whenever I think train, I hear a ghostly whistle. No matter where you live in the city, you can hear the trains' whistles sounding as they come into the city. They are always there, but they seem louder at night when I'm lying awake in my bed.

The sound has never bothered me. In fact, it's rather comforting. That lonely wail has sung me to sleep many nights. When I'm staying out of town, sometimes I can't sleep because the train whistles aren't there.

It might seem strange, being comforted by trains. But where some people have wolves, and some have coyotes singing, I have the trains.

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