Locomotive dreams
3 Likes
North Brit: To answer confirmed Secularists, I often refer them to the true story “Zipper” in the October 2017 issue of Trauins Magazine, Thanks for additional evidence of the existance of the Spiritual World.
Another one for you Dave
The Coal Train
It was 1985 in an old mining village. I say mining village, but the mine had long ago closed. No more would miners make the journey down the pit cage. No more did a little 0.6.0 steam locomotive make the long 1 in 37 climb up the hill from the ‘main line’ with empty wagons, then descend the hill with full ones with coal.
Now the village has brand new houses with families that have moved in from elsewhere. The only remnants anyone would know of the village’s former self is the pit wheel housing and its wheel; chocked so it doesn’t move. The building is now a small museum of mining artefacts.
One evening, three wives had a ‘party’ at one of their homes. Some wine and a little food and talk. Just three ladies enjoying the evening. It was a good evening. So much so the clock on the wall ‘raced’ to eleven thirty. It was time for the two guests to leave. One left ten minutes before the other. She lived two doors down. The other had further to go home, so the host’s husband (me) began to take her home.
We hadn’t gone twenty yards when we stopped and listened. What was the noise? Mr Clark from across the street was walking his dog and also stopped. The sound was of a steam engine hard at work. “Schuff, Schuff, Schuff.” The sound continued for a number of minutes. “Schuff. Schuff. Schuff. Schuff. Schuff.” Then as if a train was on easier ground the sound was more relaxed. Then the sound of clanking as if a train came to a halt. The sound of uncoupling and a locomotive running round to more wagons. Coupling up, then the train, no longer labouring, as it made its way down the hill.
Mr Clark asked “What was that?” as there was nothing to see. All three of us shook our heads in disbelief and amazement. Mr Clark entered his house and we two people continued on towards the ladies house. As we passed the pit wheel housing and turned. Looking at the museum we saw the pit wheel turning.
We still talk about it to this day!
1 Like
Again, thanks!
1 Like
A railway journey I took nearly fifty years ago.
An Important Journey.
Oh! I do like to stay at the North British Hotel at Waverley Station in Edinburgh. A hotel that believes itself to be not only the best in Edinburgh, but all of Scotland. The standard of service never seemed to diminish. Easy check in. Porter service. Comfortable bed. Excellent Scottish breakfast. What more could one wish for? Maybe another night perhaps? Not today though a journey to partake. An important journey indeed.
Now standing on the platform in my warm overcoat, a small suitcase by my side. A newfangled one with wheels to pull along. No more lifting and carrying, struggling; the wheels doing the work. The train arrives. Not a train with a name. The days of ‘The Elizabethan’, The North Briton’, ‘The Highlander’ long gone. It appears the Management have no pride in railways. Today’s not the day to argue the rights and wrongs of railways, the importance of the journey is at the forefront of my mind as I board the train.
I sit in First Class, a single seat, a table in front. There is another seat opposite. Nobody is occupying it at present. I see a ticket saying it is reserved from Perth. I settle down and watch the suburbs of Edinburgh pass by. A stop at Dalmeny and I see one or two passengers who board the train. Within a minute of departing we were crossing the River Forth. The bridge still as splendid as the day it was built. A ship was sailing up the river, but we were in the Kingdom of Fife and heading north.
A stop at Ladybank. I do love that name. I wonder how it was chosen? One day I shall enquire. It is here at Ladybank we take the single line to Perth. The line is rather unkempt. Long grass along the trackside. Branches from the nearby trees smack the side of the carriages. One day perhaps the trees will be cut back, but for now leaves would brush the carriage sides and every so often a branch would ‘thwack’ the sides. Some gave a fear that they would break a window.
Arriving at Perth a gentleman in business attire sat opposite me. From his briefcase he took out a book on management and began to read.
A lady in a British Railways uniform arrived with a tea trolley. Funny how it is a tea trolley, but only has coffee? A coffee and sandwich purchased I looked out the window. Snow had fallen. Not a lot, but was there more further north? I smiled to myself. I always had my overcoat for the journey. Pitlochry, Newtonmore, Aviemore all passed. The downward ride to go; Inverness.
Out of the railway station saw Dawn and her parents. Pushing her way forward passed the oncoming passengers, Dawn gave me a loving hug and a kiss oblivious to the remaining passing either side of us. With my arm around Dawn we made our way to her waiting parents. Embraces made we talked as we walked to their car. A month since our last meet, I missed them all.
“We’ll walk home,” Dawn said as her father took my suitcase. Her mother was going to mention the weather, but I guess she knew Dawn and I wanted to be together. We said our goodbyes and headed onto High Street.
The paths were partially clear of snow. No need to clear it all, after all more was forecast. Holding hands we looked in the window of ‘The Tartan Shop’. Mrs Douglas is a part owner of the store. She is in the same Clan as me. At the bridge we turned left along Castle Road. Inverness Castle on the hill to our left, the River Ness on our right. Walking along Castle Road we looked at the river. Sunlight shining on the snow and sandy riverbed gave an impression of hundreds of glittering diamonds floating downstream.
Along Ness Bank with not a care in the world we slowly walked and talked. Instead of turning left, Dawn led me along Ladies Walk. Usually a gravel path, snow covered the way. A small wooden bridge. A waterfall to our left within touching distance.
Dawn reached out her hand, touched the waterfall and with the icy cold water touched my forehead. With a startle I looked at her and we laughed.
Oh! What the heck! Not what I planned, but the time seemed right. “Will you marry me,” I said.
She never let go of me as we walked to her parents house.
2 Likes
I was three years old when my dad decided he wanted to go to med school. Unfortunately, he needed a couple of college courses (physics and some advanced chemistry) to qualify for med school, which forced a move from Midland, TX to Austin, TX. We lived in UT married student housing, which was somewhat close to SP’s 6th street yard and engine facility. My mom worked as a RN at Brackenridge hospital, so my dad had my younger brother and I most afternoons. He would often take us to 6th street yard; he would study and I would stand in the front seat of our 1958 Ford station wagon and watch the trains; mainly a switcher switching cars.
One day, a tiger-striped switch engine stopped in front of the car. A crewman climbed down and approached us. He asked my father if I wanted to go for a ride. I said no. I don’t know if it was the size of the engine, the noise, or it was a stranger; I was too scared to leave the car.
I guess that is also the first decision that I have ever made that I still regret to this day.
4 Likes
I grew up in the 50’s and 60’s in West Medford MA. The Lowell branch of the B&M ran right thru the village center. My Junior HS was about 200 yards up from the crossing, the 5c&10c was in the village center, and my Catholic Church was, as they say, on the other side of the tracks. So between school and church I probably was at that crossing at least 2-3 a week. I remember both Alcos and F units roaring by pulling freights plus commuter rail trains of Budd RDC’s. Ironically, I model the BN, go figure!
Regards, Chris
3 Likes
I showed Dawn (my wife) the above picture. She says it reminds her of the first time she came to visit me.
SHALL I GO OR SHALL I STAY?
"What shall I do? Shall I go or shall I stay?
Oh! He is charming and a gentleman. Off course being at our house with mum and dad he would be.
This is different. I have only known him two weeks. Twice he has come to see me. Both times they have been wonderful. Both times he has treated me as someone special. Now he has asked me to his house. I have said ‘yes’, but am I doing right?
Waiting here at the train station. Waiting to go. There is a challenge in that the train is running late. Is that a sign to stay? It was here outside the station we first met. I thought he was lost. He said he was deciding to go into town or down towards the river. We walked down towards the river. As we talked, he said he was visiting the area. A tourist. We see many. Along by the river I felt a breeze getting up. Gently he put an arm around my shoulders. It felt natural to the point of snuggling into him.
That’s how it began. Now I am apprehensive. Am I rushing things? I hardly know him; but then does anyone know a person no matter the time. My last relationship was a disaster. He had a ‘string of girlfriends’. I was lucky though. I found out two of them had children by him. How glad I am that I didn’t sleep with him.
It’s the main reason I am wondering should I go or stay. Oh! I want children, sure I do. I want to be married first. Enjoy married life, going to places and holidays just the two of us. Then have children. Is that too much to ask? If I go it will be for five days. What will he expect of me? Will he respect my wishes? Shall I go or shall I stay.
Oh! The train is arriving. Am I doing the right thing?"
3 Likes