Can't Ya Hear The Whistle Blow?

Recently, Dave and I took a coach tour to Duluth. Duluth has been our family playground since Helen was about two years old. This trip was not to see new things but to enjoy things together without Dave having to drive. I'll just say here that the staff for the tour were delightful young people, well read, interested in everyone on the tour, and interacted well with all ages. The driver of the coach was competent, courteous, and enjoyable. The day was lovely.

One particular part of the trip was a ride in a 1819 first class coach car on a train. We left the coach bus behind at Duluth Depot and rode the rails to Two Harbors where the coach bus met us and continued the remainder of our tour. What a delight!

Trains have been a part of my life as long as I can remember. My brother arrived and departed at either the Great Northern Depot or the Milwaukee Depot in downtown Minneapolis for service overseas in the Pacific for the Coast Guard in WWII as well as countless times for visits after he moved away from home permanently. Dad also used train travel when he had a sales territory in North Dakota. The depots I've visited were bittersweet because they often meant someone was going away, but they also meant sometimes someone was coming home.

Sometimes, I got to be the one going away. Mom and we younger kids would take the train to join Dad on his travels during the summer months. Dad, Mom, Pat (8 years older than me), her son Larry, and I took the train to New York State to visit my sister Betty, her husband Frank and their eldest son Ray. I took the train with my family to California to visit my brother and again alone to visit him after graduation from high school.

Our house in Columbia Heights was not far from railroad tracks and on summer nights I was often lulled to sleep with the distant clatter of a train on the tracks and the lonely horn warning of intersections between rails and roads. I love that sound.

It was such a lovely day when Dave and I boarded at Duluth. Bright fall foliage, crisp lake shore air, and aging rail car smells stimulated my senses. We opened our window to let the fresh air in. A couple of the staff asked if we had ridden trains much when we were young. We were both able to share stories. They asked if we knew the seat back could slide on the seat to become either a forward or backward facing seat. I knew because once coming home from the Dakotas, I was quite ill. Mom was tired and sad to be leaving Dad. The conductor changed the seat in front of us to face Mom and then brought a pillow and blanket for me so I could lie across from her. She could keep her eye on me and have plenty of seat room to herself to rest.

On our trip to New York, Dad was irritated with me because we were seeing such wonderfully different country than we were used to and it held such history for our country. I couldn't help it. The wheels on the roadbed, the swaying of the car, and the comfortable reclining seat put me to sleep almost as soon as the train began to move. When we changed trains at Sault Ste. Marie in Canada, we had time to wait for our train to depart and our new train to arrive. Where did I wind up sitting? In a huge black leather wing-back chair under an enormous railway clock with a pendulum ticking the minutes away in a deep and sonorous bass tick-tock. I fell asleep. Dad told Mom to leave me there as I would still be asleep on their return trip. I think he was only half kidding!

I expected the trip from Duluth to Two Harbors to be slow like the dining car experience to be had in Stillwater, where for two hours the train crawls on a short expanse of track and dinner is served while entertainers sing songs from the 1920's and 30's. Not so. This proved to be a real train ride.

I could hardly speak at first because of the lump in my throat and the passing scenery was a little blurry for the tears. Dave took a couple pictures of me sitting there then we were asked by one of the staff if we would like our picture taken together. He said, "Would you like me to take your picture?" Dave answered yes and I answered no. I misunderstood and thought he said, "Do you mind if I take your picture." We managed to come to agreement and he used Dave's camera to take a picture of the two of us. A conductor came down the aisle to chat and be seen in his uniform. He was not punching tickets but he stopped and chatted with nearly everyone on the train.

For the most part, I enjoyed the scenery, drank in the scent of autumn air coming in the window, and reveled in the sounds of the roadbed. If you listen to the music of the train, it is not just clickety-clack. There is the deep hollow rumble of passing over a culvert or ravine or river, the light slightly off rhythm of newly laid ties that have not yet settled into the bed, and the dull sound of the track passing through town and crossing the intersecting roadways. Didn't know that did ya? Did you even care? Be honest because you won't hurt my feelings.

pullman or a berth. It was excitement in the extreme to leave your seat and climb the three or four steps to the gondola and sit in a glass bubble to allow you to see. My favorite time to be up there was sunrise or sunset. The middle part of the day, the sun was too bright and too warm even on a chilly day.

I wanted to tell Dave to "mind my skirts" because in 1819 that would still have been an issue for ladies and gentlemen. The issue would be for ladies to keep the hems of their skirts from picking up the dust and dirt of the car floor and for gentlemen not to "trod" on the hems of skits and petticoats thereby tearing them. I knew if I said something like that he'd stare at me for a moment, tell me I was wearing slacks, and then move two seats away.

Sounds, sights, scents, a good companion to travel with are as important as the trip. It was exciting to get to New York and hug Betty and Frank. It was wonderful to get to California and hug Ev. The downside was having to leave again. Dave came home from Texas after training as an MP and guard dog handler in the army in 1965. I went to the Milwaukee Depot to meet him. My but he was a handsome man!

He stepped off the train and I stepped into his arms and said, "I fell down, Dave!" I was so embarrassed. I had been waiting for his train for over two hours. Both my legs fell asleep while I was sitting there. When they announced his train I got up to go out to the boarding platform and fell smack dab on my face! The place was crowded with service men (not many women were involved yet at that particular time). I had more help getting up than you could believe. A nurse checked to make sure I had not broken an ankle.

While Dave was hugging me and I was hugging back, a Red Cap (railroad's forerunner to the "Sky Cap") came up and said, "Your wife took a nasty spill. Better take good care of her." We laughed. This was October 4th or 5th in 1965 and we had met the 30th of August. We had corresponded through September.

He had to take charge of his dog, Rusty, before he could spend time with me so he had to load the crate on a truck and ride to the army base by Fort Snelling to get Rusty settled. I was going to go back to my apartment where he would join me and my friend Carolyn and her friend Chuck. The two soldiers in the truck told Dave his wife could ride along if she wished. Sitting with Chuck and Carolyn later, Chuck told her we were a really great couple, and asked how long we had been engaged.

On December 23, 1965, we eloped. Everyone already thought we were married so we decided to make it so! We've had more good times than bad times. There have been struggles and successes. Two children have attained adulthood and started families and homes of their own. Two grandchildren make growing older worthwhile. Dave will say he can't remember if it is "marital" or "martial" bliss complaining that he gets the letters mixed up. He usually says it with a twinkle so life with me hasn't been all that hard on him.

See what happens when you ride the train? With every sounding of its horn a new memory comes to life. People say sounds and scents connect the long past things in our brains. I believe it. I think God did that for a reason. There is a passage in the Bible that says our prayers and obedience are like the pleasing scent of incense to Him. There are so many happenings in our daily lives that we forget the little things unless . . . unless you walk into a place where the sounds and smells set stimulate cells in your brain. Long-forgotten memories come back. Memories that are sweet. Long departed people are remembered and appreciated once more. Those still with us come back much younger in our mind's eye. We can still tell those people we appreciate them. A sweet smell of incense.

So, there I was on a train to Two Harbors with my best beau. He's still a handsome man. We held hands. It's true we have both changed in appearance and agility. We both used canes that day. We smiled a lot. We pointed new scenery out to each other. And in spite of all the train rides we could collectively remember, it was the first one we shared. I thank God for giving Dave the idea to take the tour. I thank Dave for enjoying the day with me. I'm glad there were no goodbyes to be said at either depot!