tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post1683241837629203498..comments2024-03-27T10:15:26.060-05:00Comments on Scratching to Escape: Trains in the Distance. Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15969361446367636746noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-8742598958165759192015-09-13T18:27:24.028-05:002015-09-13T18:27:24.028-05:00There's no other sound. Many don't pay att...There's no other sound. Many don't pay attention to the horns, but when it's quiet, and the air is cool, the sound carries for miles; bouncing off distant building; a melodious echoJesshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15969361446367636746noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-30881053547622884582015-09-12T18:43:49.319-05:002015-09-12T18:43:49.319-05:00I linked to this.I linked to this.Ed Bonderenkahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03724552853113809036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-73318738969442993452015-09-12T18:18:35.155-05:002015-09-12T18:18:35.155-05:00When we were kids, dad and mom took us on vacation...When we were kids, dad and mom took us on vacation.<br />We visited my dad's hometown, California PA.<br />We were in a vacation trailer and he parked us in the library parking lot.<br />The library turned out to be a converted train depot.<br />We were parked right next to the track.<br />Tyhe first night, we all thought we were going to die when the train rolled through town hitting it's air horns as it rumbled by us within 20 feet.<br /><br />I still like to hear the train in the distance at night (in the distance) as it goes from Chicago to Detroit.<br />Ed Bonderenkahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03724552853113809036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-31226230360678432852015-09-12T18:12:51.523-05:002015-09-12T18:12:51.523-05:00The last time I was there was '83...for a fune...The last time I was there was '83...for a funeral.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-72323679811178594762015-09-12T16:47:10.463-05:002015-09-12T16:47:10.463-05:00That was the last time I went to Chickasha. It'...That was the last time I went to Chickasha. It's on my bucket list to visit one more time before I'm gone. Jesshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15969361446367636746noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-85432677257786666392015-09-12T16:46:17.175-05:002015-09-12T16:46:17.175-05:00I've worked around trains for decades. The pow...I've worked around trains for decades. The powerful engines, the rumble as they work,and the calling of the road, make you want to climb aboard and go for a ride. Jesshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15969361446367636746noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-9794373285981331352015-09-12T16:44:54.470-05:002015-09-12T16:44:54.470-05:00The echo of a train horn is mesmerizing. It's ...The echo of a train horn is mesmerizing. It's such a loud sound to shatter the silence, but is reminds the world still turns and things are good. Jesshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15969361446367636746noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-48299915113022406242015-09-12T16:43:42.867-05:002015-09-12T16:43:42.867-05:00Trains fascinate, and they instill a feeling of a ...Trains fascinate, and they instill a feeling of a great expanse to be covered, while riding a train. Jesshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15969361446367636746noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-67966438362299789462015-09-12T10:50:29.741-05:002015-09-12T10:50:29.741-05:00Ahh, Chickasha. If the air was still and the night...Ahh, Chickasha. If the air was still and the night clear, one could almost hear every train that passed through the little town.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-2247994593031219332015-09-12T08:44:52.387-05:002015-09-12T08:44:52.387-05:00The summers of the early 50's, late late night...The summers of the early 50's, late late night, laying on Grandmothers sofa, while<br />visiting, windows open for cooler air, I hear the train whistle far far away, and quietly<br />go to the north window. The one facing Ramona Blvd. It's coming, I can feel the<br />rumble under my feet. The train roars past heading west, and I can feel the roar of<br />the beast in my entire body. These are my earliest memories of trains, starting<br />about 6 years old. I can't tell you how thrilled I am to now have a son who is a<br />rail road engineer, working for a short line, hauling grain in WA. Oh, I love trains!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-64178763205896039062015-09-12T06:05:51.344-05:002015-09-12T06:05:51.344-05:00Nice. I miss the late night visiting train from my...Nice. I miss the late night visiting train from my previous house where we lived until 5 years ago. The subdivision is called Carriage Way, and is a small neighborhood of circular streets and cul-de-sacs that sit just off an east-west train track. I learned to ignore daytime trains, and if I did hear them, they were intruding. But at night while laying in bed, they were very soothing. Your story took me back there.DaBladehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16160781062081889980noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391026052555134300.post-52831444525402723362015-09-12T01:53:08.587-05:002015-09-12T01:53:08.587-05:00My Dad loved trains. He loved what he called the ...My Dad loved trains. He loved what he called the lonesome sound of a train whistle. The last time he stayed with me he was like a kid with a new toy. I live a city block from the railroad tracks. He got to hear the trains up close and personal. Said he thought he would like to stay so he could hear the trains every day. The sounds of a train used to be annoying. Now they are a reminder of my Dad. That is a good thing.Vickihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09409645438732452330noreply@blogger.com