wabash cannonball

out from the wide pacific ocean to the broad atlantic shore
she climbs flowery mountain, o'er hills and by the shore
although she's tall and handsome, and she's known quite well by all
she's a regular combination, the wabash cannonball.

Carter Family version of Wabash Cannonball, ca. 1930

you probably already know we live right up close to where the delaware and ulster railroad used to haul tourists, coal and milk from the hudson valley to the susquehanna and back again. in fact, the depot is just a few houses over and across the highway, which is really a two lane street. we know what time it is through much of midday because of the whistles of leaving and returning trains taking passengers as far as roxbury. in the last year and a half, we've watched the trains go by, listened to the whistles, but we've never managed to muster up enough courage to hop on board.

so when some friends planning a visit said their two year old boy had a passion for trains, i mentioned that we have a rideable train right here in town. the friends said it was a good idea, that their child would love it. not knowing so much about two year olds, i suggested maybe a visit to see the train might be more appropriate than an actual ride. but the child was sick in love and would not be deterred.

because the sweetie couldn't go with us, he and the child spent some time before our stroll over to the depot watching video of trains and also watching johnny cash and the muppets sing a medley that included wabash canonball. then the four of us- the parents, the child, me- walked down to the depot. when the conductor yelled, "all aboard!" most folks flocked to the outside cars but it was cool and we went on past to one of the covered cars with seats that flip from back to front. we had the whole car to ourselves.

the child was pretty excited. you now how little kids get when they see something large and real and up close that they've only seen small on tv or from not at all touching distance. their muscles get funny. they dance around a bit. their eyes start to breathe. their hair breathes. they don't know what to do. you want to help them so you say things like, "do you like it?" or "what do you think?" or "isn't this fun?" and maybe they nod, but they can't really use what you're offering at that point.

we hopped off the train in roxbury and got ourselves cheetos and cookies and something to drink. we looked at photos and relics of the railroad's heyday. we sat on a bench and watched the engine take itself from one end of the train to the other, readying itself and us for the trip back. now the small child had warmed up to the train by this time, was still in love but not in that far off way. so on the way back he sped through the empty cars, laughing, putting as much of himself into the train as he could, sucking up as much of its wonderfulness as he had room for in his small self. because he is a small child he does not have room for the fear that makes adults hesitate at the moving slabs of metal between cars.

so the day went. cool, bright weather. the rocking of the train. a small, happy child. it is a good thing to be in the company of those you love and it is an even better thing to witness the strangeness of a small child in a new place he already knows well. but to have all this while watching the leafy, rivery world pass by on your own real and actual version of the cannonball- now that is quite an afternoon.