Prompt Week 12
My son, Hagen loves trains. It isn’t an ordinary fascination with this child as I found out a couple of weeks ago when the train derailed in Bangor and three trains were trapped in the Penobscot. My sister, Hagen, Aska and I were coming home from Old Town and happened by the traffic jam of workers and onlookers at the intersection where it happened. It was raining but Hagen really needed to get up close and personal. It was, after all, a break-down train with crane and flatbed. Oh, we just had to see that in action.
I parked the car illegally on the slope of a hill and we trudged down in the rain and stood across the street from the workers. Hagen was very upset about the way that they were going about it. He kept screaming at them to get down there and get those cars out of the river. Had they never seen Thomas?
We didn’t have a great view of the real action but I spotted a house across the river that I knew was empty and for sale. I told him that I’d take him to see after I took Auntie and Aska back to the house. He reluctantly agreed to go back to the car but not before he yelled a couple more orders to the guys. One man turned around in his yellow rain gear and I swear he made a face at my little three year old. I was smiling as we plodded back to the car, Hagen babbling the whole time.
I didn’t even take him out of his car seat when we got back to the house. I grabbed a refill of my coffee, cut the front page photo of the trains out of the Bangor Daily and got right back in the car. Away we went up route 9 to the empty house. It was directly across the river from the derailment. We had a full view of everything. Though nothing was happening, Hagen stood with his nose practically pushed against the windshield holding his picture from the Bangor Daily like it was a blue print. He kept telling me that they really needed a boat and a caboose and for that breakdown train to go into the water to get those cars out. We sat there for a good half hour and then I had to insist that we go home. He didn’t like that at all and fretted all evening about those train cars in the river.
The next morning I told him that we’d go back and watch while they took the blue car out. Daddy got off to work and we jumped in the car and headed back to our post. Still nothing had happened as far as I could tell. There seemed to be a lot of milling about but all three cars were still in the water. Hagen was disgusted. He wouldn’t even leave his post long enough to eat his sausage sandwich. The newspaper picture was still in front of him and another, from that morning’s paper had joined it.
We sat there for a total of 6 hours that day watching them pull first the blue car then the red car out of the water. We watched them weld on the blue car (which subsequently caught afire) and we saw them hook the red car to the breakdown train. It was honestly the most boring and fulfilling day I’ve spent in a lot of years. I didn’t tell him about the other red car immersed so deeply as not to be visible. I couldn’t stand another day while they figured out how to get that one out.
The whole adventure lasted about 3 days with occasional stops at the empty house even on the fourth day. When the whole thing was finished, I’ll admit that I breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn’t imagine spending another minute watching an inch by inch rescue.
Just when I thought it was over, my time done, Wednesday’s paper front page color photo - a train hit a truck in Hampden. My son’s eyes lit up and looked straight at me. “You’ll have to ask Bampi to take you.” I said. “Momma’s got too much to do to go see railroad cars scattered all over the landscape like toys.”
Bampi did take him that day but he fell asleep in his car seat before they got there. I have to think that it’s really a good thing. I understand that it was closed off and no way to really see anything. Bampi likely would have acquiesced to Hagen’s pleading and found a way through. I don’t know that the workers would have appreciated Hagen’s input and that would have broken his heart.
I’ve put the newspaper clippings away for now. They’ll go in his scrapbook when the time comes. For now, we’ll just continue to walk around the toys scattered all over the landscape like…well, not railroad cars.
I parked the car illegally on the slope of a hill and we trudged down in the rain and stood across the street from the workers. Hagen was very upset about the way that they were going about it. He kept screaming at them to get down there and get those cars out of the river. Had they never seen Thomas?
We didn’t have a great view of the real action but I spotted a house across the river that I knew was empty and for sale. I told him that I’d take him to see after I took Auntie and Aska back to the house. He reluctantly agreed to go back to the car but not before he yelled a couple more orders to the guys. One man turned around in his yellow rain gear and I swear he made a face at my little three year old. I was smiling as we plodded back to the car, Hagen babbling the whole time.
I didn’t even take him out of his car seat when we got back to the house. I grabbed a refill of my coffee, cut the front page photo of the trains out of the Bangor Daily and got right back in the car. Away we went up route 9 to the empty house. It was directly across the river from the derailment. We had a full view of everything. Though nothing was happening, Hagen stood with his nose practically pushed against the windshield holding his picture from the Bangor Daily like it was a blue print. He kept telling me that they really needed a boat and a caboose and for that breakdown train to go into the water to get those cars out. We sat there for a good half hour and then I had to insist that we go home. He didn’t like that at all and fretted all evening about those train cars in the river.
The next morning I told him that we’d go back and watch while they took the blue car out. Daddy got off to work and we jumped in the car and headed back to our post. Still nothing had happened as far as I could tell. There seemed to be a lot of milling about but all three cars were still in the water. Hagen was disgusted. He wouldn’t even leave his post long enough to eat his sausage sandwich. The newspaper picture was still in front of him and another, from that morning’s paper had joined it.
We sat there for a total of 6 hours that day watching them pull first the blue car then the red car out of the water. We watched them weld on the blue car (which subsequently caught afire) and we saw them hook the red car to the breakdown train. It was honestly the most boring and fulfilling day I’ve spent in a lot of years. I didn’t tell him about the other red car immersed so deeply as not to be visible. I couldn’t stand another day while they figured out how to get that one out.
The whole adventure lasted about 3 days with occasional stops at the empty house even on the fourth day. When the whole thing was finished, I’ll admit that I breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn’t imagine spending another minute watching an inch by inch rescue.
Just when I thought it was over, my time done, Wednesday’s paper front page color photo - a train hit a truck in Hampden. My son’s eyes lit up and looked straight at me. “You’ll have to ask Bampi to take you.” I said. “Momma’s got too much to do to go see railroad cars scattered all over the landscape like toys.”
Bampi did take him that day but he fell asleep in his car seat before they got there. I have to think that it’s really a good thing. I understand that it was closed off and no way to really see anything. Bampi likely would have acquiesced to Hagen’s pleading and found a way through. I don’t know that the workers would have appreciated Hagen’s input and that would have broken his heart.
I’ve put the newspaper clippings away for now. They’ll go in his scrapbook when the time comes. For now, we’ll just continue to walk around the toys scattered all over the landscape like…well, not railroad cars.
posted by millay at 12:28 AM
1 Comments:
Amy--this is a corker, a keeper, first class and no mistake, and got four or five laughs out of me on a day when I don't otherwise feel like laughing.
I wish Maine Times were still in biz--I'd suggest sending it to them for their 'Back of the Book' feature which did essays from Mainers about Maine stuff. Just this kind of thing. I'm going to read it to my missus when she gets back--I know she'll enjoy it.
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