Christmas in Muskoka 2016 The Train Horn

THE SOUND OF THE TRAIN HORN - THE ECHO OF HISTORY PASSING ON THE SILVER RAILS

I WAS ATTRACTED TO THE SOUNDS OF HOME - AND I DON'T KNOW WHY

      WHEN I LIVED IN BURLINGTON, BY REGULAR IMMERSION IN THE PEA SOUP OF THE LAKESIDE ENVIRONS, I GOT USED TO THE HAUNTING BELLOW OF THOSE DEEP, MOURNFUL FOG HORNS, SOUNDING ABOARD THE GREAT LAKES FREIGHTERS. I GOT USED TO THE FOG ROLLING IN OFF LAKE ONTARIO. I'D WALK TO SCHOOL, SOME MORNINGS, ON THE WAY TO LAKESHORE PUBLIC, AND ONLY BE ABLE TO SEE A FEW YARDS IN FRONT. SO I UNDERSTOOD THE IMPORTANCE OF FOG HORNS OUT ON THE LAKE. US KIDS JUST KEPT YELLING TO EACH OTHER, IF ONE GOT TOO FAR AHEAD. IT WAS KIND OF FUN UNTIL WE'D GET TO A ROAD, TO CROSS, WITH NO ASSISTANCE TO GET US TO THE OTHER SIDE. I CAN ADMIT IT NOW, BECAUSE MY MOTHER IS DECEASED, BUT WE HAD SOME CLOSE CALLS, WHEN MOTORISTS CAME SPEEDING THROUGH THE MIST, ONLY TO FIND US LADS, STANDING THERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROADWAY. IN MY PUBLIC SCHOOL DAYS, GETTING HIT BY A CAR MEANT LOSING THE RIGHT TO FLY THE ELMER THE SAFETY ELEPHANT FLAG. SO WE FEARED HAVING A SHOWDOWN WITH A CAR BUMPER, AS HAD TRAGICALLY AFFECTED OUR CLASS-MATES. I CAN REMEMBER A KID WHO GOT HIT, OUT FRONT OF THE SCHOOL, GETTING THE CRAP BEAT OUT OF HIM, WHEN HE RETURNED TO SCHOOL, AFTER RECOVERING FROM INJURIES. WE HAD TO TAKE THE FLAG DOWN OFF THE POLE AT THE FRONT OF THE SCHOOL, WHERE IT HAD FLIED FOR A FULL YEAR. SO KIDS BLAMED THIS POOR LAD FOR RUINING OUR ACCIDENT FREE REPUTATION. GO FIGURE. SO WE ADD TO HIS INJURIES, BY WHACKING HIM FOR HAVING WHAT COULD ONLY HAVE BEEN CONSIDERED AN ACCIDENT. IT WASN'T LIKE THE KID WANTED TO GET HIT, BUT THAT'S THE WAY OUR TEACHERS SEEMED TO FEEL, BACK THEN, UNDER THE BANNER OF ELMER, AND IT WAS MIRRORED BY THE STUDENT BODY. TALK ABOUT BULLYING.

      GROWING UP IN BRACEBRIDGE, IT WAS THE TRAIN HORN, AND THE ECHOE AND VIBRATION OF THE ENGINES THAT KEPT ME COMPANY, ON MANY OUTDOOR VIGILS, AND WALKS HOME FROM DOWNTOWN. I HAD TO PASS THE TRAIN STATION EVERY MORNING, ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL, AND I WAS ALWAYS, AGAINST MY MOTHER'S DIRECTIVE, LINGERING ON THE PLATFORM, WAITING FOR THE NEXT ARRIVAL AND SUBSEQUENT DEPARTURE. IN THE LATE 1960'S, IT WAS ONE OF OUR FAVORITE HANG-OUTS, AND HONESTLY, I NEVER REMEMBER ANY STATION-MASTER SITTING IN THE GLASSED-IN OFFICE, BESIDE THE LOUNGE. THE DOOR WAS ALWAYS OPEN BUT NO ONE SEEMED TO BE IN CHARGE. I DO KNOW THAT MR. STACEY HAD BEEN IN CHARGE OF THE STATION, BUT DURING MY YEARS, THE ONLY TIME I SAW HIM DOWN THERE, WAS WHEN HE WAS PAINTING AT HIS EASLE, WITH HIS WIFE HAVING SET UP BESIDE. I SUPPOSE THEY WERE BOTH ARTISTS, AND THEY SEEMED FASCINATED BY THE RAILWAY LINE, GOING NORTH AND SOUTH. I SAW THEM PAINT IN BOTH DIRECTIONS, BUT THEY DIDN'T LIKE US KIDS GETTING IN THE WAY.....EVEN DOWN THE RAILS. I ALWAYS THOUGHT THAT WOULD HAVE ADDED TO THE DIMENSION OF WHAT THEY WERE PAINTING, BUT APPARENTLY, THE SILVER RAILS AND WHAT WAS COMING TO THE STATION, WAS OF GREATER IMPORTANCE ON THEIR PAINT BOARDS.

     ON A COLD SATURDAY, AT THIS TIME OF YEAR, THE HUNT'S HILL LADS, WOULD HANG AROUND THE STATION TO WATCH A FEW TRAINS PASS, AND ENJOY THE WARM COMFORTS OF THE LOBBY, THAT APPEARED FROZEN IN TIME. IT ALWAYS REMINDED ME OF THE 1940'S FROM WHAT I HAD SEEN IN OLD BLACK AND WHITE MOVIES WE WATCHED ON TELEVISION. IT WAS NEAT AND WELL MAINTAINED, SO OBVIOUSLY, THERE WAS SOMEONE RESPONSIBLE FOR ITS UPKEEP. IT WAS MEMORABLE, YOU KNOW, SITTING IN THOSE COMFORTABLE LOBBY CHAIRS, LOOKING OUT THE WINDOWS ONTO THE PLATFORM, WATCHING THE SNOW FLURRIES DUSTING OVER THE BASIN OF THE MUSKOKA RIVER, AND THE LENGTH OF TORONTO STREET OVER THE HUNT'S HILL BRIDGE. WE DIDN'T STAY LONG, BECAUSE WE KNEW IT WAS THE KIND OF PLACE THAT PEOPLE CHECKED-UP ON, ALTHOUGH WE HAD NEVER BEEN CHALLENGED ABOUT OUR TEMPORARY RESIDENCY. I'M SO GLAD I HAD AN OPPORTUNITY TO SPEND SOME TIME THERE, BEFORE IT WAS DESTROYED ONE DAY, IN THE EARLY 1980'S, WHEN US HISTORIANS WERE ASLEEP AT THE PROVERBIAL SWITCH. THERE WAS NO WARNING. JUST BUSTED TIMBERS WHERE A BEAUTIFUL TRAIN STATION HAD STOOD FOR LONG AND LONG.....ALONG THAT SECTION OF RIVER BANK. ONE DAY, A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO, I FOUND THE OLD TRAIN STATION SIGN, FOR SALE, IN A DARK CORNER OF A HUNTSVILLE ANTIQUE SHOP. I THINK IT WAS SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS, AND I HAD TWENTY BUCKS TO BLOW. SO I DIDN'T COME HOME WITH IT. BUT I WANTED IT FOR OLD TIMES SAKE. SUZANNE EXPLAINED THAT IT WAS TOO BIG FOR ANYWHERE IN OUR HOUSE. SHE WAS RIGHT. I'VE STILL GOT THE IRON LETTERS FROM THE OLD "HERALD-GAZETTE" SIGN, FROM 27 DOMINION STREET, THAT I HAVE NO PLACE TO MOUNT INSIDE OR OUT AT BIRCH HOLLOW.

     WHEN IT WASN'T TOO COLD, WE'D OPT TO SIT-UP ON THE PLATFORM OF THE FREIGHT SHED, WHICH AFFORDED US A GOOD AND SAFE PLACE TO WATCH THE ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE OF TRAINS THROUGHOUT THE DAY. IF THE HUGE IRON-WHEELED FREIGHT CART WAS ON THE PLATFORM, WITHOUT ITS ANCHOR CHAIN, OUR LADS WOULD TAKE IT FOR A LITTLE SPIN DOWN THE RAMP. TALK ABOUT A RUSH. WE'D SURELY GET A JOLT WHEN WE HIT THE END OF THE WOOD BRIDGING, AND THE LITTLE RIDGE OF WOOD STRAPPING, DESIGNED TO STOP THE CART IN THE EVENT IT WAS PUSHED OVER THE EDGE. WE'D FINISH A RIDE WITH SPLINTERS IN THE ARSE, LET ME TELL YOU. POKING RIGHT THROUGH OUR SNOWSUITS. THE EXTRACTION WAS PAINFUL AND EXECUTED BY OUR CONTEMPORARIES. WE SURE AS HECK DIDN'T COME HOME WITH FREIGHT CART SPLINTERS, BECAUSE OUR PARENTS WOULD HAVE KNOWN EXACTLY WHERE THEY CAME FROM. THERE WAS ALWAYS THE ASSUMPTION, WE WOULD GET UP TO NO GOOD. THIS WAS THE CASE, ONLY FIFTY PERCENT OF THE TIME. IN FACT, MOST OF THE TIME, TRUTH BE KNOWN, WE WERE A LOT LESS DANGEROUS AT PLACES LIKE THE TRAIN STATION, BECAUSE WE DID HAVE RESPECT FOR THE WHOLE INDUSTRY OF MOVING PEOPLE AND STUFF. THE ONLY REPETITIVE, STUPID THING WE DID, WAS SETTING OUT PENNIES ON THE RAILS, SO THAT THE INCOMING TRAINS WOULD FLATTEN THEM. WE USED TO MAKE A NAIL HOLE IN THEM, AND STRING THEM AROUND OUR NECKS AS TROPHIES. I GOT CAUGHT DOING THIS ONCE, BY A RAIL WORKER, AND HE TOLD ME HOW I COULD EASILY DE-RAIL A TRAIN. "WITH THIS LITTLE PENNY," I ASKED. "IT COULD KILL HUNDREDS OF PASSENGERS, SON," HE CLAIMED, AND "YOU KNOW KID, IT'S AGAINST THE LAW. I COULD PHONE THE COPS AND HAVE YOU PUT IN JAIL FOR DOING THIS." A LOT OF ADULTS THREATENED US WITH JAIL TIME. IT HAD MORE OOMPH THAN JUST SAYING, "YOU'RE IN TROUBLE!"

     WE LIKED PASSENGER TRAINS MOST, BECAUSE WE FANTASIZED ABOUT TAKING A TRIP ONE DAY.....AND JUST AS TODAY, THERE WERE ALWAYS A LOT OF VACANT SEATS. WHEN THE CONDUCTOR YELLED OUT, "ALL ABOARD," WE WANTED TO BE ON THE INSIDE LOOKING OUT.....OFF ON AN ADVENTURE TO NOWHERE IN PARTICULAR. IT ALWAYS REMINDS ME NOW, OF THE ANIMATED MOVIE, "THE POLAR EXPRESS," WITH TOM HANKS, PLAYING THE SPIRITED CONDUCTOR FOR THE CHRISTMAS EVE JOURNEY. MOST OF US OLDTIMERS, WITH A LITTLE UNSPENT ENERGY, STILL HAVE REMNANT CHILDISH WONDERMENT, LEFTOVER, ABOUT ALL THE PLACES THOSE PASSENGERS WOULD SEE AND EXPERIENCE, GOING NORTH OR SOUTH. SO WE MADE IT SEEM A LOT MORE LIKE FICTION, THAN IT WAS ALL ABOUT....BECAUSE WE WERE USING REAL TRAINS AND REAL PEOPLE, TO CONCOCT OUR FANTASY RAIL ADVENTURES. OUR SHORTFALL, WAS THAT WE WERE ALL BROKE. IF WE'D POOLED ALL OUR COINS TOGETHER, WE WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO BUY A POSTAGE STAMP, LET ALONE A TRAIN STATION. EVEN IF WE'D HAD A FEW DOLLARS MORE, ONLY ONE OF US WOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO GO.....THE OTHERS LEFT TO EXPLAIN TO FAMILY MEMBERS, HOW WE HAD HIT THE RAILS TO A NEW FUTURE. FOR THOSE FREIGHT TRAINS, WE HOPED TO FIND AN OPEN BOXCAR WE COULD HITCH A RIDE, LIKE THE HOBOS DID, (WE'D VISITED THEIR JUNGLES) BUT EVEN THOUGH WE HAD A FLEETNESS TO JUMP ONTO A MOVING TRAIN, THE WARNING OUR MOTHERS GAVE US EACH MORNING (SUSPECTING WE WOULD FIND OUR WAY DOWN TO THE STATION AT SOME POINT) REMAINED IN GOOD STEAD. MY MOTHER WOULD DESCRIBE HOW OTHER BOYS AND GIRLS HAD LOST THEIR LEGS, TRYING TO JUMP ONTO THESE BOXCARS, ACCIDENTALLY FALLING BENEATH THE WHEELS OF THE MOVING TRAIN. I FANCIED ADVENTURE, BUT NOT LOSING MY LEGS. SO WE JUST ENJOYED THE BANGS AND CLATTER, AND THE ROAR OF THE OLD DIESEL ENGINES, AS THEY PASSED BY THE FREIGHT PLATFORM, TIME AND AGAIN, WITHOUT EVER ONCE STOPPING THAT I CAN REMEMBER. PASSENGER TRAINS WERE MUCH MORE APPROACHABLE, ALTHOUGH THE CONDUCTOR ALWAYS KEPT AN EYE ON OUR PROXIMITY TO HIS PORTABLE STEPS, THAT HE THREW OUT TO ASSIST THOSE DISEMBARKING....OR CLIMBING ABOARD. I THINK HE SUSPECTED WE WERE GETTING READY TO LAUNCH A MULTI-KID ASSAULT ON HIS CAPABILITY TO DIRECT TRAFFIC, GETTING ONTO THE TRAIN WITHOUT A TICKET. WE MIGHT HAVE, BUT HE KEPT US BACK WITH STERN LOOKS, AND A SHAKING FINGER IN OUR DIRECTION. HIS GENEROSITY WAS CONFINED TO GIVING US A WAVE, WITH THE WHISPER FROM HIS LIPS, "BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME YOU LITTLE BUGGERS." WE'D HAVE GIVEN HIM THE FINGER, BUT WE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANT IN THOSE DAYS. SO WE JUST WAVED.

     I DO SEE MY GHOST OF CHILDHOOD, GETTING ON THE POLAR EXPRESS HOWEVER, AND IT HAS BECOME MY SEASONAL MOVIE FAVORITE, BEHIND ONLY "A CHRISTMAS CAROL," "WHITE CHRISTMAS," AND "IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE." I LIKE IT SO MUCH, BECAUSE IT WAS EXACTLY HOW WE FELT AS KIDS.....BUT COULD NEVER REALLY SPELL OUT WHAT OUR EXPECTATIONS WERE. GOING TO THE NORTH POLE WOULD HAVE BEEN SWELL. WE JUST WANTED TO GO SOMEWHERE OTHER THAN WHERE WE WERE STUCK. IT'S NOT THAT BRACEBRIDGE WASN'T A NEAT HOMETOWN, BUT WE KNEW THERE WERE PLACES DOWN OR UP THE LINE, WE'D LIKE BETTER. THESE WERE MYSTERY PLACES THAT INSPIRED US TO DAYDREAM, AND IF WE'D BEEN IN SCHOOL, OUR TEACHERS WOULD HAVE SCOLDED US.....AND WRITTEN IN A HEAVY, IMPRINTED INK, ON OUR REPORT CARDS, THAT WE WERE "INATTENTIVE IN CLASS;" THUSLY, WASTING OUR LIVES DREAMING ABOUT THINGS WE COULDN'T HAVE, IN PLACES WE'D NEVER BE ABLE TO VISIT. IF WE DIDN'T GET AN EDUCATION YOU SEE, WE'D BE DESTINED TO A PENNILESS FUTURE WITHOUT ENTERPRISE WHATSOEVER. ALL MY TEACHERS FELT IT INCUMBENT TO WARN ME FROM USING MY IMAGINATION, TO ESCAPE THEIR BORING CLASSROOMS. WHEN I'D HEAR THAT FAMILIAR TRAIN HORN CALLING OUT TO ME, AND I WAS SURE OF THIS, I STOPPED DOING EVERYTHING IN THAT CLASSROOM SETTING.....FOR THOSE FEW MOMENTS IT WAS PASSING OUR TOWN. LIKE THE FOG HORNS I USED TO HEAR, IN BURLINGTON, THE TRAIN HORNS MEANT SOMETHING TO ME, WAY BEYOND WHAT MY MOTHER OR TEACHERS COULD UNDERSTAND. EVEN NOW, AT BIRCH HOLLOW, IF I'M OUTSIDE AND HEAR THE TRAIN HORN, I WILL STOP IN MY TRACKS, NO MATTER WHAT THE TASK AT HAND, AND LISTEN AS IT BELLOWS OFF IN THE DISTANCE. THE FURTHER AWAY, THE MORE HAUNTING AND NOSTALGIC IT SOUNDS. AND I ALWAYS THINK, AT THIS TIME OF THE YEAR, IT MIGHT JUST BE THE POLAR EXPRESS COMING RIGHT UP THE FANTASY TRACKS, AND WILL BE STOPPING RIGHT IN FRONT OF OUR HOUSE. ASK YOURSELF THIS.

   SO GIVE YOURSELF A LITTLE BREAK FROM THE FETTERS OF STARK REALITY. THINK AS A CHILD. LIVE LIKE A CHILD. IF ONE LATE CHRISTMAS EVE, IT DID APPEAR, ITS HUGE YELLOW LIGHT BEAMING THROUGH THE HOLLOW OF THE WOODLAND, LIKE A FULL MOON IN BLOOM, IN THE DREAMY, POETIC SPIRAL OF BLOWING SNOW, AND JUST AS SUDDENLY, STOPPED FOR YOU, (NO MATTER WHAT AGE YOU ARE), WOULD YOU CHERISH THE OPPORTUNITY TO JUMP ABOARD, TICKET SECURELY IN HAND? WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE TO LOSE? IT WOULD BE A DREAM, RIGHT? SO WHAT'S THE HARM? IF IT GETS TOO WILD AND CRAZY, YOU'LL JUST WAKE UP ANYWAY. NO HARM, NO FOUL. BUT WHAT IF YOU COULD TAKE THAT FANTASTIC TRIP, ALL THE WAY TO THE NORTH POLE, TO VISIT SANTA'S MAGICAL DOMINION? WHAT WOULD THAT TICKET COST? I MEAN, FOR ALL THAT MILEAGE TO SANTA'S WORKSHOP? "FREE" YOU SAY? THAT'S THE ONE GOOD THING ABOUT A FERTILE AND CULTIVATED IMAGINATION, CONSERVED FROM CHILDHOOD. I'M NEVER AFRAID OF GIVING IT A LITTLE SLACK.....BECAUSE WHAT DAMAGE WOULD IT CAUSE? OTHER THAN A LITTLE CONTEMPLATION TIME INVESTED; SITTING BACK THOUGHTFULLY, COMFORTABLY, AT FIRESIDE, PONDERING, REFLECTING, WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE TO HAVE AGAIN, THE KEEN EXPECTATION AND FASCINATION FOR LIFE, ONE POSSESSED AT TEN YEARS OF AGE. SENSING THE RIDE OF YOUR LIFE, THROUGH THE SNOWY COUNTRYSIDE.....IN THE MAGICAL WHIR AND WHIZ OF TRAIN WHEELS SPARKING BLUE AND ORANGE, ON THE GLISTENING STRETCH OF SILVER RAILS, RIDING OVER THE BLANKET WHITE OF SNOW AND ICE; CAST SO UNEARTHLY, IN THE ENCHANTING MOONLIGHT OF A MUSKOKA WINTER NIGHT. AH, TO BE A KID AGAIN. I FALL PREY TO MY IMAGINATION AT THE STRANGEST TIMES. BUT I AM THE WILLING PREY. I WOULD SO GLADLY JUMP ABOARD THAT ENCHANTED POLAR TRAIN. MY FRIEND, AND BLOGGING ASSOCIATE, FRED SCHULZ WOULD ALREADY BE ONBOARD. WHAT A GOOD TIME WE WOULD HAVE! TWO KIDS IN AGED BODIES. EYES WIDE OPEN. ENERGY TO EXPEND.

     HOPE YOU ARE HAVING A GOOD LEAD-UP TO THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. MORE STORIES OF OLD AND FAMILIAR CHRISTMAS SPIRITS YET TO COME.