Twin Adventures From A Simpler Time: A Memoir

The Right Side of the Tracks: On one side of the tracks sat a small dreary old shack. Cracked gray shingles clung to the outisde; thick, gray, soot coated the inside. A plump, gray-haired lady sat within, protected from the elements -- until the train whistle blew. The sound of the iron monster sprung her from her shed like a coo-coo bird from its clock. She scurried to the gate, wrapped her calloused hands around the metal handle, and cranked away. The long wooden guardrail descended slowly across Myrtle Street, and the occasional automobile would roll safely to a stop moments before the speeding train roared past. We enjoyed chatting with the old woman as she slowly turned the crank to raise the guardrail back to its vertical position -- until the next train came along. We loved visiting with her inside the little shack, expecially on cold winter days. The pot-bellied stove warmed the pot-bellied lady and her two guests. She crammed herself into her square, wooden chair and we huddled on the rectangular footstool. Two plump, gnarled hands, and four small, flawless hands stretched toward the red-hot coals glowing inside the open stove. When we all stopped shivering, our friend would close the stove door to "preserve the heat, you know" and lean back in her chair. My brother and I leaned against each other, like bookends, ready for another fireside chat. What we talked about, I do not remember. What our old friends's name was, I, sadly, do not remember. What I do recall, vividly, is the warmth inside that little shack: winter, spring, summer or fall. On the other side of the tracks, on summer days, Charlie and I waited with all the neighborhood children for the mid-day freight train. As the sun rose higher in the sky, anticipation climbed among the flock of kids. The sound of the distant whistle called the gaggle into formation -- a straight line along the tracks. The sight of the smoking train instigated a rowdy jostling for position, with the biggest kids naturally gaining the head of the line. But as the train passed by, the engineer always had enough lollypops to toss to every single child scurrying along the tracks. It was like Christmas in July, complete with a jolly, bearded, fat man. So, you see, no matter what side of the tracks we were on, we were always on the right side of the tracks.