Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Byron Spires
The Southern Voice
Published in
4 min readJul 12, 2024

I have always had a fascination with trains, planes, and anything motorized.

Back in the days of my youth, trains ran all the time. Although we lived a couple of miles from the railroad tracks (as the crow flies) I remember hearing the train whistle on a cold clear night as it blew at every crossroads.

I could tell where the train was just by listening to the whistle. If it were coming from the East, it would blow the first whistle at Experiment Station Road. If it blew traveling from the West, it would blow at Bostic Road first a good eight miles away.

If I could not sleep, I would imagine that train traveling through town. Seven or eight trains a night passed through in both directions, and there were even more trains during the daytime.

Very seldom did we not get caught by a train if we went south of town, especially on Lake Talquin Road. I used to enjoy counting cars, too.

On more than one occasion, I have seen trains with four locomotives carrying over one hundred cars. You might as well shut your car off and visit with the folks in front or behind you. I have seen people do that many times during one of those long waits.

I remember one specific time we were stopped at the Lake Talquin Road crossing, and I was counting cars as they rolled by. There were a few regular box cars, and the remaining were flat-tops with military equipment, everything from tanks to troop carriers and jeeps.

It was fascinating to watch all of that military equipment as it went by. I asked my father where all of that was going, and he had no idea.

This was not the only train I saw with military equipment headed east. Other trains during that time would hold up traffic as they lumbered through town.

I later learned that it was equipment buildup during the famous “Cuban Missile Crisis.”

Back then, there were a lot of crop dusters flying, and that was fascinating to me, too.

My dad would pull off the road sometimes, and we would watch the planes as they would fly just above the fields, then at the tree line practically go straight up, turn, then fly back across the fields from a different direction.

There were few commercial planes back then, so when you saw one, especially a jet, we had to stop and watch it as it flew by.

Big trucks, on the other hand, were plentiful. Since U.S. 90 went through the middle of town, I saw thousands of them. Having seen so many, I could pick them out by make and model.

I knew an Autocar from a Mack, a Peterbilt, and a Kenworth. My cousin worked for Brockway Trucks in Courtland, New York, and I would occasionally even see one of his trucks as well.

There was a long, steep hill on US 90 a few blocks from our house. Many afternoons, a group of us boys would sit on an embankment near the top of the hill and watch the big trucks shift gears as they pulled up the incline.

About halfway up the hill, you would see smoke billow from their exhaust pipes as they downshifted to make it to the top. This was in the days of double clutching and twenty-speed transmissions.

What was always interesting was when one of the drivers would miss a gear and have to stop and start all over, shifting gears to get to the top. That was fun; however, the best part was when we could get a driver to blow those big truck horns. Only a few would do it because they were too busy shifting gears.

Seeing a motorcycle on the highway was unusual, so they drew a lot of attention. You did see those Harley Davidsons, especially those driven by the police department. I do remember seeing Indians, BSAs, and Triumphs as they came through town. Later, when the Japanese models started showing up, it was Hondas and Suzukis.

Things have changed, and big trucks are much more powerful; therefore, you don’t change gears as much. You see planes almost daily, especially their vapor trails in the sky. Trains, however, are seen much less.

Now we have all-electric cars and self-driving vehicles, and who knows what's next? I do miss those days of sitting on the side of the hill watching those trucks and talking about that cool 1958 Oldsmobile that just passed by.

--

--

Byron Spires
The Southern Voice

Writing became my passion later than most people. Since 1992 I have been published in a number of newspapers. I am active in stage plays, musicals and film..