The train tracks of my memory

Being a poor country family, we didn’t really do a lot of activities such as going to the movies, arcades, sporting events and such. We occupied ourselves with what we had. For me, it was the great outdoors. We may not have been blessed with lots of money, but we sure were blessed with lots of woods, pastures, hills, creeks, and farmland to play on.

One thing that I could always rely on was the railroad tracks that ran through my community. I could lie in bed at night and listen to a midnight train rumble down the tracks in front of my parents house. That old lonesome whistle that would blow as it approached the crossing at Cardwell Rd, will forever be stitched in my memory. To reach the tracks, all I had to do was cross the road in front of my parent's house, climb over the fence, walk through the cow pasture, cross the creek, and bam, I would be standing in my own world.

I spent many an hour playing along the railroad tracks. I’ve walked for miles and miles back and forth from my parent's house to my best friend Kevin's house. I never worried about getting hit by a train, you could hear them coming for miles away. Beside the railroad tracks was Roseberry creek. I would pick up the shiny rocks from the railroad tracks and fling them into the winding trail of water. I would balance myself on the tracks and see how long I could walk without falling off. Laying pennies on the tracks was always fun. Lord only knows what I did with all of those flat pieces of copper. I made sure that I stayed out of the Creosote that was slathered on the railroad ties. If you get that stuff on your clothes, it won’t come out. Just ask my mother!

Nowadays I wouldn’t let my kids go off by themselves walking on a set of railroad tracks for nothing. Back when I was growing up, no one ever gave it a second thought. I can remember being bored and my parents telling me to go and play on the train tracks. Funny how times have changed.

My cousin Brad and I were wrongly accused one time of trying to derail a train. Crazy old Mr. Cardwell that lived down the road from us came to my parent’s house one time. He was raising all kinds of cain about someone putting large rocks on the tracks behind his house. We weren’t the ones that did that of course, but that crazy old coot sure thought we did. My parents knew he was nuts, so they didn’t believe him.

I always had a secret desire to try and jump onto a slow moving train and see how far I could go. I never did work up enough nerve to do that though. I had heard stories about people getting sucked underneath trains when attempting to jump on. I valued my life more than the thrill of the moment. Of course it was always fun to see how long I could stand on the tracks before chickening out and jumping before the train came. I didn’t do that very often but even once was really too many times!

One great thing about walking the railroad tracks is the peace and solitude that you enjoy. You don't ever see anyone else while you are out there. The only other living thing that you see is the occasional rabbit that jumps across the tracks or sometimes a slithering snake. It is a good time to think. I would often find myself contemplating the mysteries of life along those tracks. During times of depression I would often walk back and forth mulling things over in my head. I would speak one to one with God and ask him for peace and help in my times of trouble. Whether he answered my prayers or not, I always seemed to feel better after a few hours of alone time on the railroad tracks. ...I could use some of that alone time these days.