“.and when someone gets killed because the train was forbidden to blow it’s horn, then what?”
A friend of mine lives in a small, mainline railroad town. She says “Everyone who grew up here knows someone that has been killed by a train.”
“Everyone who grew up here knows someone that has been killed by a train.”
Part of the reason these train stories and the endless WHINING by Madistan Hippies about their warning whistles strikes home is that my Father-in-Law lost his first Wife, (”Sweet Ann” as he calls her), his Sister and his Mother-in-Law due to a train/car crash. (He later married my Husband’s mother and they formed a blended family of 10 kids!)
The tracks (no longer in use now) are 100 yards from the edge of their farm, five miles up the road from our farm. The whistle and crossing arm malfunctioned while the three were returning from town and his wife and family members didn’t stand a chance.
Of course, there was a huge pay-out by those that maintained the crossings, but what consolation could that have been? He was widowed with six kids to raise before he was even 40 years old. :(
It’s sad, but that’s why these “in-towners” whining about buying a home near a railroad track in the first place makes me want to spit nails!