Trains Continued ..........

      Paul Simon once wrote: “Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance — everybody thinks it’s true.” I really believe that anybody can experience trains as I do if they take the time. Trains seem to me more of a living, breathing thing than just a chunk of steel. The sound of the engines, getting louder when the engineer throttles up; quieting when the engineer throttles down. The horn, warning motorists of its coming. The snake-like shape of an often mile-long behemoth, stretching across prairies, through tunnels, beneath towering hills and mountains, over bridges.
      I also ride Amtrak when it’s convenient. Here in Fargo, Amtrak runs east at 2:10 a.m.; west at 3:49 a.m. These are the hours when traffic lights flash yellow; when the last of the drunks have been kicked out of the bars; when the usually bustling downtown is devoid of population. In the Amtrak depot, there’s usually a congregation of several bleary-eyed individuals, making small talk under the waiting room’s fluorescent lighting. When the boarding announcement is made, they make their way onto the platform. The darkness of the night is shattered by the train’s blinding headlights; its silence obliterated by the throbbing of diesels and the blaring of a horn. For just a few minutes, this loud and flashy intruder lingers. Then, as quickly as it came, it slips into the night. I imagine that most Fargoans have little idea that this ritual takes place, twice each night.
      Usually, trains that run through town in daylight are seen as just an inconvenience to the general public. Downtown developers are trying to get train horns banned in the hopes of attracting more people to apartments there. It’s this attitude that makes me feel as if these amazing steel nomads are the best-kept secret around, hidden in plain sight to all but the few of us who have discovered how incredible they really are.

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