What Sound Or Sight Makes You Pause, Listen To Your Heart, And Drift Back?

WHAT SOUND OR SIGHT MAKES YOU PAUSE, LISTEN TO YOUR HEART, AND DRIFT BACK?  ~  Since I was a young boy the sound of a train's lonesome whistle has touched a place in my heart - and I can't really say why. 

And if it happens to me, then it must be something within many of us, for I am not unique.  Oh, there are times I may have thought so, but then I realize that I am just one tiny soul in God's great universe.

When I was about 12 years old, my Aunt Nina who lived in Paducah, Kentucky, came to my home in Sheffield, Alabama, and took me and her granddaughter, my cousin, Patty, to spend the summer with her in Paducah.  That was when I first noticed the call of the lonesome locomotive, calling, "Come with me. Come with me."

Kind of like the lyrics of Hank Williams' 1949 song "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" 

"Hear that lonesome whippoorwill,
He sounds too blue to fly.
The midnight train is whining low,
I'm so lonesome, I could cry."

Also, at a young age, I was influenced by a Jeanne Crain movie I saw about the exciting college life.  The call of my daydreaming was so strong that summer when I was in Paducah, I actually starting planning how I could hop on a freight train, like a hobo, and get off in a small college town, like in the movie.  There I would work until I could go to college.  Okay, so I was a dreamer at that age.  But who isn't?

What caused this trip down memory lane?  Believe it or not, I just heard a train whistle, and while writing this, I heard another going by.  Even though the track is about a mile from my home, the lonely, lilting call seems to float on the breeze.  And I often respond, at least in my memories.

But fast forwarding to my life as an adult, I spent about 50 years in the computer industry and did a lot of traveling.  Flying to a new city, staying in a new hotel, always different and a new experience.  Then in a few days, or a week, a few times maybe a month, flying home to the comfort of my home and family.  Flying away, excited about my meetings.  Flying home, excited to relax in the bosom of my home and family.

I retired about 25 years ago, but at times when I stand near a freeway at dusk, watching folks driving home from work - or see a passenger plane flying high above me, off to some destination unknown to me - I begin to miss my life of traveling.

Watching cars on the freeway at dusk, I am reminded that there is a different story in each car.  Some heading home to family and comfort, others looking forward to a date, a party, and for some, even a lonely evening drinking alone. Over the years, I experienced all those.

The same when I watch the plane loaded with passengers flying high above me.  In a plane with 150 passengers - there are 150 different stories and different emotions.  And I do believe that, over the years, I have experienced all those also.

Some looking forward to business meetings the next day, others coming home from a business trip.  Some are going on a vacation, others returning from a vacation.  Some flying for the first time, others so accustomed to flying that they are working, or falling asleep.  So many stories.

I recall one, circa 1980/81, when I had been to northern California on business - and in the afternoon I was returning home to Orange County.  When I took my seat there was a young girl about 10 years old sitting beside me.  I could tell she was nervous so I started chatting with her. 

This was her first time to fly and she was coming to Orange County to visit her dad. She was nervous for two reasons.  It was her first time to fly, but also her mom and dad were divorced and she was flying to meet her dad for a visit.  We had fun talking and laughing so that she forgot to be nervous.

Landing at the Orange County airport (later John Wayne airport) at that time we would deplane on the tarmac and walk to the terminal.

The old terminal at that time was a single building with ticketing on one end and the luggage carousel on the other end.  On the second floor there was a cafe and outside the cafe, there was a walkway where people waiting for passengers could stand and watch people leaving the planes. 

As the girl and I were walking toward the terminal, she suddenly broke into a big smile and told me, "There is my daddy, standing up there!"  And would you believe, the person he was talking with while nervously waiting for his daughter - was my wife, Dory.

The little girl was nervous about visiting her daddy.  He, too, was nervous as he waited to greet his daughter.  I really believe God used both Dory and me to help them both forget their nervousness as they waited - she to land, he to see her after the separation.  God is pretty resourceful.

So the next time you see a freeway full of cars at dusk, or you see a passenger plane flying high above - just try to imagine all those stories and emotions passing by you, each a unique story. 

And when I hear the lonesome sound of a train whistle my thoughts will stray back to 1955 and that young boy, just out of high school and on his first train ride, going to San Antonio for Air Force Basic Training.  Then four months later on a train to Denver for Air Force Tech School.

And in 1958 excitedly arriving at Los Angeles Union Station aboard the Union Pacific City of Los Angeles streamlined passenger train, on my 21st birthday, as I came to begin my career in the computer industry.

Thank you for joining me on my locomotive whistle induced trip down memory lane. 

God bless, have a wonderful, blessed day,

Bill 

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