The Tracks Are Disappearing

Those tracks that I held in such awe as a child are disappearing fast. Some were destroyed by flood and others were actually removed. When my sisters told me that they were taking the tracks up I didn't believe it.



Trains mean different things to different people. I always think of that long ago ride with my Grandma and the smell of food, shaving cream, hair grease and sometimes body odor. There were so many of us. As an older person, I read about the middle passage (the transport of slaves across from Africa) and was reminded of that train ride. There were numerous empty cars ahead of us, but we were lucky to be packed into the very last car like sardines.



Pennsylvania Station in Newark, New Jersey was a very scary place when we finally arrived. When I have occasion to visit the station today, I marvel at how the intimidating bigness of it has all but disappeared even though it is much larger than it was in 1967.



The only remnants of the old line and that old tradition is gone forever except in
the memories of those of us who rode the colored only passengar cars North.