DFW

  I have a confession to make.  I love trains, whether big or small.  I just love the clackity-clack of the rails.  The first train ride that I remember was when I was around 3. We went on the train from New Orleans to Ft. Worth.  My father warned me about something that I never forgot.  Don't stick your arm out of the window.  It might get chopped off.  He also warned me about my head for the same reason.  Since I was 3, that was a horrifying thought.  I never tested his theory.

 When I got to Columbia, our elementary school class took the train from Camden, SC to Columbia on a field trip.  That was pretty cool.  I also rode on the Tweetsie Railroad in the mountains of North Carolina.  It was like a touristy thing, but fun as a kid.  My father reminded me again about no arms or head out of the window.  I thought of blood, so I passed.  Then, there was the train ride between Lucerne and Paris that was a bit traumatic.  I had to protect the girls on our tour from persistent Portuguese soldiers.  It was pretty scary.  It was the only train ride I have had, where we were in our own roomette.  I wish that the lock on the door worked, but I am glad that the conductor came by to clear the soldiers away.  Check out an earlier story called "The Train".

 Checking out Fort Worth, when I was attending seminary, there were two trains of interest.  One was in Forest Park.  It was a miniature train mainly for kids.  It went across a bridge with a warning not to be on the bridge when it crossed.  I did that once.  There wasn't enough room for me and the train.  I ran like fire to get across the bridge before the train.  One day, my friend Sonny and I went on the train.  We were sitting behind some Japanese tourists.  Their friends were on the side taking pictures of these folks, as the train passed by.  We had some fun by covering our faces with our hands, as their friends took pictures of them and us.  I wonder, when they got home and developed their film, if they thought we were criminals.  "Sumimasen" (sorry in Japanese).

 The other train was at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport.  It carried passengers from one terminal to another for free.  If you went there at night, very few people were on the train, so one could just ride around the airport.   It even went up a hill and down another like a slow-moving roller coaster.   John Renfrow, Doug Bryan and I would ride it.  They were friends from seminary.  If it was free, then we were going to do it.  Free and fun.

 I also took Amtrak from Florence, SC to Washington, DC for a transit meeting with another friend, Charles Gossett.  I covered that in an earlier story.  As I said, I love to ride on trains.  Hearing that whistle blow.  Nothing like it.