My Real Memoir

Last weekI wrote about one of the darkest experiences of my life (it must have triggered some algorithm because WordPress cancelled all notifications). A train was involved. Then, a month later, a very different train encounter occurred.

It was my buddyJeff’s birthday. His mom decided to drive five of us to a Disney double-bill ten miles away across an unlit stretch calledDairy Valley. The pizza was great (all pizza is great when you’re eleven) and so were the movies. The trip home was not.

It was the foggiest night I’d ever seen, or rather not seen. But what Dairy Valley lacked in lighting it made up in railroad tracks. Milk train tracks crossed the road every half mile.

The first time a blinking R/R light went off, we jumped in our seats because we hadn’t seen it until we were practically on…