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Air Horns - The Final Train is Approaching

I can recall at the fewest 100 times, as a child, maturing up just south of the tracks, when Russell and me would be dashing for our lives, or so we would pretend. The freight yards jumbled with all kinds of people and trucks, mostly waiting to get loaded with all the things that came off the trains. There was a lot going on around this place, at least for most the day, to keep a hundred guys focused making a living.

Russell’s pops was one of them and my dad used to be also. The loud train trumpets from the locomotives would alarm in a chain of sounds and the trucks wouldn’t be far lagging, as if to say yea, yea we hear ya. I always pondered if those series of musical air horns blasting from the trains was code for anything, or just some rude wake up shout to shake up the dock hands.

You know, I mean, they spent a lot of hours chatting about what must have been important stuff until those air horns reported off, then like bees from a aggravated hive, they would leap to the closest thing to do and be doing all serious like.

I’m positive we had better stuff to do than watch them buzz around, but it absolutely was a kick in the pants, and we would imagine they were our soldiers, or maybe our workers of some sort, you know when your a King or a General or something, you had to have people to do what you said, right?

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