Dispatch From Disneyland
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Trains

It's a cold day in October. The warm winds of summer have finally gone south. Come to take their place is a cold front that stretches its dark arms to cover the prairie and farm land just outside of Marceline, Missouri. The rains that are sure to come will be welcome by the local farmers, but today, for the two young boys who awaiting their Father's return, it would be nice if the downpour could hold off for just a little longer.

"I can't see anything," said Roy. He was older, and taller, and could therefore see farther down the tracks than his younger brother. All the way to where the tracks dipped below the rolling hills. Just beyond those hills were the dark clouds that threatened showers. "See if you can hear the train coming."

Roy gave Walt a gentle nudge. Without any more urging Walt jumped down off the loading dock, onto the tracks, and put his ear to the track.

Walt had been listening to railroad tracks for years. A set of tracks ran past the family farm and Walt and his brothers often went out there to play around. Then when Walt was six his Uncle Mike Martin, an engineer on the Marceline route, showed him the trick. As it turns out you never actually put your ear to the track. Instead you listened for the vibrations the track made with your ear just a fraction of an inch above the iron rail. At the same time you watched to see how often the vibrations came down the track. Calculating the pitch, volume, and frequency of movement, Walt could hear a train 20 minutes away, and tell you its arrival time within 2 minutes.

His father's train, however, was silent and therefore more than twenty minutes away. Twenty minutes late. An eternity for two normal kids. But Walt and Roy had proved time and again, they would never be bored. To pass the time Roy called out the names of their favorite motion picture actors. Walt would imitate them as best he could, often acting our particular scenes from his favorite movies.

Walt was in the middle of his best Charlie Chaplin imitation when he saw the plume. A tall white column of steam emerging at full speed from the front edge of the prairie storm.

•  •  •

The dit-dit-dat of the land-line telegraph tapped its steady call across the universe, "To all who come to this happy place stop welcome stop." But to John the noise was just another way of measuring the long delay before he could board the train to back to Main Street.

Waiting in Town Square were John's mom and little sister. They were holding curb side seats for the first Main Street Electrical Parade of the night. John and his father took advantage of the kindness to ride the Haunted Mansion, but they had to promise to bring back some popcorn afterwards.

John's little sister was still too young to even consider going inside, and his mother didn't want to ride either. She claimed she wasn't scared, but John had a feeling she was. He had ridden it over 5 times and it still scared him.

In fact, he was still feeling a little unnerved from his recent visit to the Haunted Mansion. Thankfully, his Dad was there to offer his hand. Misreading his son's gesture, his Dad assured him that the train was almost here and they could use the restroom on Main Street.

Before John could offer a correction, he noticed a dim light coming from his left. "The train is coming, Dad! It's coming!"

•  •  •

Walt liked to pause in between cars. With one foot on the deck of each passenger car, he could look straight out and see a narrow slot of daylight which was the world going by. Mostly he just saw trees and prairie, but occasionally he'd see a farm house or other building pass by. Unless the train was traveling really slow, the fixture was gone from his field of vision before his mind could identify exactly what it was. But then he'd reconstruct the image in his mind and catalog the mystery object. Using this method he memorized the whole route between Kansas City and Chicago.

His brother Roy had suggested he take this job as a way to help out the family. His Mom and Dad had left to work in Chicago, and the brothers and a few others were holding down the fort in Kansas City. However, try as he might, Walt couldn't get the route to turn a profit. By the end of the trip he was always left with a few extra newspapers, some candy wrappers, and a nearly over-ripe apple. He sold enough so he broke even for the day, but never really made any money.

None of that really mattered to Walt. Everyday on the train was a chance for him to meet new and interesting people, hear news about the world outside Kansas City, and on breaks he would work on his drawings. A couple passengers had even suggested he try and sell a few cartoons to the papers.

•  •  •