Every kid on my block was intreeged by trains. We would ride our bikes down to the tracks, and watch the trains drive by. In awe we would watch for hours on end. Even if a train was not rolling by, we would just wait (trains were always unpredictable) until we would hear our mothers' shreeking voices calling us for dinner.
When we where young, the train was always an object of enjoyment. A locomoting vehicle as massive as a train would amaze us for days on end. But as we grew older, and enjoyed time in front of the television and sleeping, the train was just and object of annoyance. A roll over in bed and groan kind of annoyance.
One day as I was studying Morse Code in communicating class, I noticed the precise beating of the loud blow horn train whistle. Talk about shattering childhood experiences! The train was, against its own will, being forced to scream out obsentities in Morse Code, for miles to hear!
I mentioned it to some of my friends, and we laughed about it, but no more than that.
A few days later, my friends and I were in communicating class writing a test on Morse Code. Between recollections of the things we had studied the night before, we each heard the train again. At first we quietly giggled, but then we realized what the code implied.
Somehow the engineer found out that we had discovered his plan. His plan consisted of getting his jolies out of blowing insulting comments about people he passed and people he knew, including his mother-in-law. He and his buddies all understood Morse Code and extremely enjoyed such vulgor acts. I guess that reflects the exciting life of train engineers. I mean, obscenities in Morse Code at two o'clock in the morning? HA! HA! Very funny!
Those weird engineers spelled out this on that fall afternoon: "Clintonians are the most retarded beings on the planet! All day long they sit around and eat..."
The rest of that revolting sentence is presently blocked out of my mind, but I do remember turning to my friends with rage in my eyes and saying "Let's put an end to this!"
My friends agreed and we all walked out of the school and ran at full speed right to the tracks. We made it right as the last car passed by. We, enraged, all leapt onto the back of the train. And even though the train had already passed through Clinton, those rude engineers continued spelling out those insulting words that burned inside us like a red hot iron.
We were so insulted that we crawled over the top of all the train cars and dragged our little bodies up to the roaring engine. Filled with fury, we swung into the occupied cab. Because our minds were packe so full with the insulting words of the train whistle, we acted without thinking. We threw all three engineers out the window and began blowing the train whistle in triumph! It was sooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo fun! It was so fun that my friends and I decided to pursue engineering careers. After our university education we all got jobs on the Goderich to Exeter route. Luckily Clinton is directly in between the two. So, all of us, at 2 o'clock in the morning continued the time honoured tradition of insulting all of Clinton in Morse Code screaming through the night!
Yes, people always complained about the noise, but, if you had to be awake at two in the morning would you not want everyone else to join you in sleepless anguish? Of course!
It is exceptionally fun! The train whistle is a great invention, maybe the greatest and without it, I would probably be scuba-diving in Toronto looking for victims of drive-by shootings who had been scrapped of the street and flung into Lake Ontario, only to be eaten by mutated green algae that has been genetically altered by McDonald's plastic pop-cup covers that have been carelessly tossed away and dragged to the lake-shore by seagulls who are used to eating dried up lettuce.
Long Live the Train Whistle!
Melanie Nocturnal
