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Re: [FJGRailroad]

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  • Gino & Kelly DiCarlo
    Great one Steve! Who wouldn t want a caboose for a club house? Gino
    Message 1 of 3 , Mar 3, 2002
    • 0 Attachment
      Great one Steve! Who wouldn't want a caboose for a club house?


      > From: Knixrule1@...
      > Reply-To: FJGRailroad@yahoogroups.com
      > Date: Sun, 3 Mar 2002 09:26:57 -0500
      > To: FJGRailroad@yahoogroups.com
      > Subject: Re: Fw: [FJGRailroad]
      > I have two more teenage stories on paper Lee, once I get them off to a
      > railroad magazine I will share them with you.
      > Steve
    • leedarshi
      Another Neat Story, Steve! ... From: Knixrule1@juno.com To: FJGRailroad@yahoogroups.com Sent: Sunday, March 03, 2002 9:26 AM Subject: Re: Fw: [FJGRailroad] I
      Message 2 of 3 , Mar 4, 2002
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        Another Neat Story, Steve!
        ----- Original Message -----
        Sent: Sunday, March 03, 2002 9:26 AM
        Subject: Re: Fw: [FJGRailroad]

        I have two more teenage stories on paper Lee, once I get them off to a
        railroad magazine I will share them with you.


             Each day my best friend and I would walk to Sandbank yard.  There
        was an old green Penn Central caboose that we would get to ride in once
        in a while, but we would choose the locomotive ride over the caboose.  If
        a mean crew was on, we would ride to Schenectady in a box or gon.  The
        caboose was never locked, so if nothing was moving, we would hang out in
        it as our private little club.  After several months, a lock appeared on
        our caboose door so we broke it off and to ensure our entrance, we broke
        the locks off the windows as well.  We cleaned and swept our caboose and
        even brought models and such to work on at the table.  It was great on a
        cold and snowy day to warm up in our private caboose and smoke our corn
        cob pipes and pretend that we were railroad men.  One night we each told
        our parents that we were sleeping at the other ones house but secretly
        headed for the caboose with pillows and sleeping bags.  We awoke to
        voices calling our names at around three am.  From the Sunnyside bridge
        it sounded as though his mother and my grandmother were calling for us.
        This could not be, so we went back to sleep.  The next morning Grandma
        and Mrs. so and so were at my house waiting for us and yes, they had been
        at the train yard looking for us.  One cold dark evening, we walked to
        our caboose through the snow only to find the door locked again.  The
        evening crew never ever used the caboose since they only worked from four
        to seven pm and it would slow up their early quit.  We climbed through
        the window and sat in our caboose, an hour or so later we could see a
        lantern coming toward us and we hid under the table while the caboose
        rocked as someone climbed up the steps.  The light shined through the
        door window and we crouched silently in fear.  The brakeman got off and
        stood by the caboose and waved his lantern in a circle in the dark night.
        We could see the locomotive headlight coming toward us but we failed to
        believe because they never used that caboose at night.  As the light got
        closer and closer and the brakeman was at the front door of our caboose,
        we began to get nervous.  The rear door was locked from the outside, the
        front blocked by a railroad man, and the locomotive was nearly to us, so
        we leaped from the window and ran.  We heard the man yell and start to
        run after us, our hearts pounded and we were in fear of being caught.
        The harder and faster we ran, it seemed that he was still faster.  Then
        we heard a terrific crash!  No one waved to the engine to slow or stop so
        he coupled to the caboose with great force.  We made it to the woods and
        hid with fear that our panting breaths would give us away.  The next day
        the yard was filled with railroad bulls, they brought out candles,
        plastic models, glue, and two corn cob pipes and cherry tobbacco and
        reported that it must have been kids.  Our many friends on the day shift
        warned us to stay away for awhile and a van was set up near the bridge by
        railroad police to watch and video tape events for a week.  Probably for
        a month or better that winter, we did not go near Sandbank Yard, and that
        was the end of our warm little clubhouse caboose.



        On Sun, 3 Mar 2002 07:39:36 -0500 "leedarshi" <LeeDarshi@...>
        > Subject: Re: [FJGRailroad]
        > Steve,
        > Wow! This was great to read! Keep telling these kinds of stories.
        > Lee
        > ----- Original Message -----
        > From: <Knixrule1@...>
        > To: <FJGRailroad@yahoogroups.com>
        > Sent: Tuesday, January 29, 2002 10:05 AM
        > Subject: Re: [FJGRailroad] Bulls
        > >
        > > As a teen, it was a daily event for a bull to chase us through the
        > > Sandbank.  It was great fun and adventure to hide in the woods,
        > crawl
        > > through the tunnel from one end of the yard to the other, and
        > pester the
        > > poor guy.  ...  Later I'll tell you about the cops in the caboose
        > story,
        > > if you want to hear it.
        > >
        > >        Steve Myers
        > >

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