Years and years–decades ago–

This crossing filled with fear…

As one and more automobiles

Were hit by trains so near.

My own Dad nearly wasn’t,

Waking up on the engine’s front…

Of all the family in the touring car

He and his Dad took the brunt.

His father died at that blind crossing

Where so many went awry…

Reduced train speeds or crossing bells

Might have prevented many who died.

The South Street crossing’s eerily

Quiet as a former railroad bed…

Horses and bicycles ply the right-of-way,

With less becoming dead.

–Jonathan Caswell

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