The Crossing

The news came,  

while my cousins and I were camping,

that two of our friends  

were hit by a northbound train

while riding on a motorcycle.

One died instantly, and

the other was paralyzed for life.

The settlement changed nothing

concerning the danger of this RR crossing.

 

Several years later,

I was taking my sister, a fourth grader,

to the elementary school bus stop.

When we left the house,

the windows were ladened with dew.

I could see out the front and back windows

but not the side windows.

 

We were only about a half-mile or slightly less

from the house to the bus stop.

So, I didn’t bother with the side windows,

for we were running late.

It was winter; the windows were up,

and the AM radio was blaring.

 

We turned on the very same road

that my school friends did

on that fateful day, a few years back.

The dangerous train crossing was up ahead.

What we didn’t know was

that my sister and I were going

to intersect with another train!

 

Without any natural explanation,

I slammed on the brakes.

We came to an abrupt stop 

just short of the tracks 

by some twenty feet or less.

At that very moment, we came to a stop;  

a northbound train crossed over the street 

right in front of us while we were heading east.

There was no train whistle sounding any warning

as it zipped on by without a hint of slowing down…

 

The VW Beetle we were in

would have been our ready-made coffin.

My sister would have died first, me second.

It wasn’t our time to go…

Ironically, two years later, Granny,

who was worried about family members,

crossing over these tracks,

died after being broadsided by a northbound train

crossing over the same tracks on 4.4.1978.

 

This place was more

than simply crossing over

a set of train tracks.

It was a crossing over 

of a different kind for some.*

*It took at least two deaths, one paralyzed for life, and countless stories of near misses before two stop signs were installed…