Modern trains don't have that same sound. I grew up half a block from the train tracks. The whistle and the genntle way the train rocked the house put me to sleep every night. Here's a sample:
Click the player at the top of the page.
Here's the story in Madison:
In 2001, a city ban was placed on train whistles at some crossings which do not have gates -- only lights. Absolutely ridiculous, in my opinion. The new federal guidelines require that the horn be blown at any crossing that does not have both gates and lights, which, to me, is perfectly logical. There are some very sketchy crossings around town -- including one by the university that goes diagonally across a busy street near a blues club that is regulated only by stoplights. It doesn't even have any bells.
As to nostalgia -- eh, whatever. They're trains. But I grew up in an area where trains had gone away at the turn of the 20th century, so they don't mean much to me. Only trains I knew were loaded with reeking sugar beets near my grandparents' house.
There are plenty of sounds near my home, even in the middle of the night. I'd rather hear a train whistle than an ambulance siren.
I hear that train a-comin'
it's rollin' down the tracks ....
hear that lonesome whistle
We have a rail crossing which we must go over every week. It has no gate, no bells, no lights, only a little wooden X to indicate what it is. The tracks appear - and I emphasize
appear - to be unused, with grass and weeds high and tall in the summer. BUT one morning I saw a train on those tracks.
It wasn't moving, thank God, because I couldn't see it until we were straddling the tracks, due to tall shrubbery, small trees, and such which nicely blocked my view both left and right.
Even in winter the view is blocked.
Ain't we got fun?
hear that lonesome whistle
Hi, Piffka!
I think I'd like to ride that train along the Tacoma Narrows - the view must be something to behold.
You just can't beat trains!
If they freed me from this prison
If that railroad train was mine
I bet I'd move it on
A little further down the line
Far from Folsom Prison
That's where I long to stay
And I'll let that lonesome whistle
Blow my blues away
Daytime whistles can be bustling and purposeful, but after dark--particularly after midnight--the whistles are lonesome.
P.S.
If you go, you can't come back.
If you go, you can't come back.
If you go-o-o-o-o-, you can't come back.
Her mother was beauty operator
Her sister could weave and spin
Her daddy owned a liquor still
And an old cotton gin
Watch that ol' money rollin' in
Rollin' in my sweet baby's arms
Rollin' in my sweet baby's arms
I'm gonna lay around this shack
Til the mail train comes back
Just rollin' in my sweet baby's arms . . .
Living in Clarkston, Michigan during the 70s & 80s our little theater group held plays in the Depot Theater, an old train depot rebuilt to house the theater. The trains, however, still traveled those tracks. First we'd hear the whistle, then as the train rumbled just outside the theater's doors the whole building would rock 'n roll with the noise. The actors on stage stood frozen until the earth quit shaking and the whistle in the distance. Thrilling. Love the sound of trains, airplanes and helicopters.
My junior year of high school in Garland, Texas, I had to walk over a RR track walking to school (as well as past an old cotton gin and a pickle factory). One day a train sat on the tracks, open box car splat in front of me. So, as any young girl in a white dress would do I climbed in one side, walked over the dirt and rust to jump out the other side just as the thing started backing up. Jumped out and fell in the muck, stepped on my dress and ripped the skirt half off. Frightening, funny adventure, laughed all the way home holding my dress together.
I would hate it if train whistles never blew again.
I live next to the CNR and I can't imagine life without the whistle and the squeal of the train at night. I grew up near the tracks, the wrong side if trueth be told. There is a strange harmony, a connection between me and the rythym of the choo-chooo.
I can't imagine the naked evening without the piercing scrape of metal announcing the arrival of a homebound train across the cold prairie landscape.
I have several squished pennies caused by laying a penny across the iron horse rails. I have collected sulphur, coal and wheat at the sides of lonely track.
There has only been one occasion where I cursed the train's whistle. I lived at the time on the outskirts of the city. Trains traditionaly tooted the horn when they entered the city, when the train hit the river crossing. One morning after, when my kids were babes, I was really tired. I had just fallen asleep when a engineer with a sense of humour made it to the bridge. Instead of one long whistle, he decided to spice things up.
The whistle tooted out - shave and a haircut .......
but missed the two bits part. I woke up waiting for him to finish it but he never did. arrrgghh!
I Like Trains
Fred Eaglesmith
sixteen miles from arkadelphia
right near the texas border
traffic was stopped at a railway crossing
I took it to the border
I stoked the kettle
I put it to the metal
I shook the gravel loose
I missed the train but I was happy with
a glimpse of the caboose
(chorus)
cause I like trains
I like fast trains
I like trains that call out through the rain
I like train
I like sad trains
I like trains that whisper your name
I was born on a greyhound bus
my momma was a diesel engine
they tried to put me behind the wheel
but I wouldn't let them
you should have seen the look in their eyes
and how it turned to tears
when I finally told them
I wanna be an engineer
now you think I've got someone new
but darlin that ain't true
I could never love another woman besides you
it's not some dewy-eyed
darlin, darlin thats gonna drive you insane
but anymore I'd be listenin for
the sound of a big ol' train
If you ever get a chance to hear Fred play, you're in for an experience. His fans(followers) are known as Fred Heads.
Hear that lonesome whistle
'How about Casey Jones?
Driving that train, high on cocaine,
Casey Jones is ready, watch your speed.
Trouble ahead, trouble behind,
And you know that notion just crossed my mind.
This old engine makes it on time,
Leaves Central Station 'bout a quarter to nine,
Hits River Junction at seventeen to,
At a quarter to ten you know it's travlin' again.
Driving that train, high on cocaine,
Casey Jones is ready, watch your speed.
Trouble ahead, trouble behind,
And you know that notion just crossed my mind.
Trouble ahead, Lady in red,
Take my advice you'd be better off dead.
Switchman's sleeping, train hundred and two is
On the wrong track and headed for you.
Driving that train, high on cocaine,
Trouble ahead, trouble behind,
And you know that notion just crossed my mind.
Trouble with you is the trouble with me,
Got two good eyes but you still don't see.
Come round the bend, you know it's the end,
The fireman screams and the engine just gleams
Hear that lonesome whistle
From what track does the Chattanooga Choo-Choo leave?
I know, do you?
number nine
number nine
number nine
Re: Hear that lonesome whistle
Tomkitten wrote:From what track does the Chattanooga Choo-Choo leave?
I know, do you?
Twenty-nine (he's got to be there on time.)
Breakfast in the diner
Nothing could be finer
Than to have your ham 'n' eggs in Carolina
This is a wonderful thread.
When I was between 8 and 13 years old, my family did a lot of train travel. I have memories of a compartment with my mother from New York to Chicago. Memories of going back and forth from Chicago and LA three times, on Union Pacific and Southern Pacific. (La Salle Street Station?)
Memories of cocoa in silver pitchers.
Memories of the sounds and rhythms of the train as it sped along. I remember crossing part of Wyoming, looking out the window at (Laramie?) station in the middle of the night. Heaven, really, every minute.
