25 August 09
Trained
When Jennifer and I were young and sunburned during a school camping trip, we paired up during a treasure hunt. But we got lost. Somehow, we ended up along the train track, on the line from Madrid to Avila. Pinned against the rock as the train sped by, we closed our eyes and our hearts raced and we caught our breath and emerged from that gully, glad to be alive, and found our way back to camp. I have never forgotten that terror, the sudden realization of the power of metal moving that fast. I did wonder what the train driver thought of our presence there. We didn’t tell. I haven’t talked about it much. You tend to leave out these accounts of childhood stupidity when recounting your misspent youth.
Today at lunch a man died, hit by a train just out across the field from our house. I don’t know if it was a mistake or on purpose. I saw the coroner’s van, the ambulance, the cops. What I do know is this: that train driver will never be the same again. I wish peace for him or her, knowing it’s more likely they will have lifelong nightmares.
Tonight the coyotes will howl, their mysterious howl for the trains and the moon and the night.
Previous: Common Sense: A Plea Next: Sweet Caroline
And, perhaps, for the man.
It happened another time for me, once I went up to the railway line behind Mirasierra, put my head on the rails to listen if a train was coming, I heard it alright, a few seconds later a train came speeding around the corner… I was frozen to the spot, could´nt move. I never told anyone, I´ll never forget that one either…
I hear about so many of these deaths lately. Just the other day, yet another teenager, a girl about to start high school, died (on purpose) along the tracks in Palo Alto, in the same spot where to other teenagers died not long ago.