WALKING ON THE “GRAND TRUNK”
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.