The sound of a train whistle evokes different emotions among the people experiencing it. Some find it soothing and comforting while others find it annoying and bothersome. My experience with the sound is with the former since moving into the Ovation community. I feel a certain calmness when hearing the train whistle even in the wee small hours of the morning.
My connectivity to this sound is twofold. The first and foremost reason is that the train whistle brings back wonderful memories of my husband who was an engineer on the ConRail railroad. He preferred road trips where he could experience long stretches of the countryside as opposed to working in the yard building a long line of railcars awaiting future trips.
From listening about his travels on the railroad, I too wanted to experience what it was like to power a locomotive down miles of track knowing that you were an integral part of making the wheels of commerce turn in this country. After many heartfelt conversations, I was able to convince him to take me on a road trip with him.
The experience was beyond my wildest expectations. Not only because of a shared encounter of beauty with someone I love, but being privy to the sounds of the powerful engine, the sight of numerous controls and gadgets, and yes, the whistle that was blown before every railroad crossing; one long, two shorts, and one long. As the countryside passed by, I envisioned what it must have been like sitting in the engine with a crew shoveling coal into the old steam locomotives of yesteryear.
After returning from my adventure, I had a plan in mind of becoming the first female engineer in the country. My girlfriend and I walked into the railroad office asking questions about how to apply for a position as an engineer on the railroad. We completed our applications and left knowing our idea of making history was most likely short lived as it was intimated that this was a man’s job.
My other endearment with the train and its whistle is connected to a former colleague and close friend, Bob. He went home to Wisconsin when he learned that his father was dying and only had a short time to live. His father too was an engineer only on the Union Pacific railroad. Shortly after his father’s passing, Bob heard a train whistle in the distance. It was if the train and its whistle were signaling a farewell to one of its own family.
While the train may be a nuisance to some residents in the Ovation community, I’m thankful of its close proximity. I take comfort and feel a certain peacefulness when hearing the train and its whistle while also knowing that I live on the crossroad bearing my late husband’s name.
In loving memory of Marvin Grant–
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