"Reflections" by Lois H. Newton Feb 2, 1966 Your columnist wishes there were some way to have the whistles on diesel engines sound as they used to on the steam locomotives. On a still night and when the wind was right when we lived at New Edinburg, we would hear the Rock Island trains whistling at Tinsman and Banks. Those far away sounds seemed exciting and romantic. There was something unique about those train whistles. People who now dwell in the cities, who hear the roar of trucks and buses and the blare of automobile horns, have missed a great deal, I think. In other days we lived in a more quiet and peaceful environment in the villages and on the farms, and seeing and hearing the big trains was an event for each day. Whether one lived on the lonely prairies or in the rich Delta country, the passing of the train was something to anticipate. We waved at the engineer and he waved back. At night those long, lonesome whooo-whoob-who's seemed to linger in the air. I wonder how many boys and girls have lain their beds and listened to the whistle of a train rushing and hooting though the dark night and dreamed dreams of high adventure. Do little boys of today long to become locomotive engineers? No, I think not. Instead they want to be astronauts or space-men. After our family moved to Warren in 1916 we used to enjoy the music of the log train whistles. I declare Mr. Denny Knickerbocker and the late Mr. Tom Marks could almost make these big train whistles talk. Do you rmember when it was a Sunday pastime to go down and see the Missouri Pacific or the Rock Island trains come in? Do you also remember that horse-drawn bus of Mr. Kight's which met the train? And do you remember those hotel porters calling out "Coker Hotel," "Southerland Hotel?" --------------------------------- Be a better friend, newshound, and know-it-all with Yahoo! Mobile. Try it now.