I loved to go down the street to the train depot. It was down South Street at the bottom of the hill form where we lived. (I lived in 65 South Street, Bedford, MA, and later in 66.) At the station a single track came in from Lexington. It split and one track went past the baseball field to Billerica, and the other went to Concord. I loved the steel rails and the ties and the smell of creosote, specially on a hot summer's day. Every once and a while a tie would have a nail hammered into it with a number cast into it's top. I always wanted to (but never did) pull one out and keep it for myself. In the early days (at least my early days) three passenger trains came out from Boston in the evening. They would stay the evening at Bedford and go back to Boston in the morning. They were pulled by steam engines, 4-6-2s as I recall. When they came out, and after the passengers got off, the engines would pull up to the water tower, the fireman would get on top of the tender, open the lid to the tender's water tank, lower the big spout from the water tower, and fill the tender with water. Then the train would pull forward across South street beside the lumber company, uncouple the passenger cars, pull up to the "Wye", Back up to the engine house where they stayed the night.
My Father worked on the railroad. He was a Fireman. In the old days he would actually shovel coal from the tender into the firebox. It was very hard work going up the side of a mountain when they had to generate a lot of steam.
That's why I have always loved the railroad and admire big, heavy moving things. Large works of mankind are fascinating..
I would have built a model train set up but I lacked the discipline to carry it through. I acquired the model trains and built some model buildings, cut some plywood, but never finished.
My Father told me two things: "Never work for the railroad." and "Never join the armed forces." He never explained the reasoning. I didn't work for the railroad, but I did join the navy. Just this moment I realize part of the reason: big heavy moving things and large works of mankind.
Love --PapaJ
