The diesel locomotive pulling boxcars loaded with thousands of pounds of commodities slowly rolled along the track. Its steel wheels screeched against the rails while making the final turn as it approached the station after passing over the bridge between two buildings. Its red / white headlights nearly blinding me as it approached and made the ground shake beneath my feet.
The high pitched squeal was louder than any rock concert I had been to. I stood out of the way as it lumbered toward me, slow enough that I was reminded of the days when people ran to catch a rung on the ladder of a freight car and risk their lives for a free ride to the next town or another far beyond. This one was nearly a mile long and stopped traffic at a nearby crossing where impatient drivers sipped coffee and waited until the last boxcar passed and the gates went up. And then it was gone.
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