The Eight O’clock Passenger

The clickety-clack of the eight o’clock passenger train was an alarm clock which signaled the end of  summertime evenings.   The Pennsylvania track,  just a mile from our house, was easily seen from our backyard.  It’s tiny yellow windows gleamed brightly in the winter when darkness came early, but you might miss it in the summer when it was still bright outside.  You had to listen for it. It barreled through the countryside at top speed hurtling its passengers along the train track from east to west.

It was summertime and we played outdoors until dark.  The eight o’clock was a signal that the evening would soon be ending and mom would holler from the back porch.  “Kids!  Time to come in!”

There were countless trains passing through on our track but I was fascinated by the passenger trains.   Who were the passengers?  Where were they going?  Were kids allowed to ride trains?  Were they going somewhere fun or going to work or moving to a new home?  One evening we happened to be in town,  first in line at the railroad crossing when the eight o’clock came through our small village.  I got to see it up close!   You could see right in the windows and look at the folks riding in the cars.  I drank it all in as it whizzed past.  It made the fascination even more intense.

The eight o’clock was a  short train compared to trains that carried cargo and goods across the country. There was just an engine, several passenger cars, and often a mail car.

Trains, in the 1960’s, were  a major mode of transportation.  No matter where you lived, they were part of the landscape.

I loved watching old movies having scenes where someone was leaving on a train, someone waving from the window, someone running along beside the car until they couldn’t keep up anymore.  It all seemed so romantic and exciting to me.

“Ruth!  Time to come inside.  Second warning.”   As I sat on the back  porch step, watching the eight o’clock train, I wondered if somewhere other kids were watching the same scene.  Maybe dreaming of a train ride  or inventing stories about the passengers they caught a glimpse of as the train rushed down the track.

train fares


About Life in the 50's and beyond...

Welcome to Life in the 50's and 60's and beyond .... where I write about my childhood memories, music of the 60's and about life in the country. I am a mother, grandmother, farmer's wife, business owner, and retired teacher.
This entry was posted in My Life and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

13 Responses to The Eight O’clock Passenger

  1. Mustang.Koji says:

    Indeed, the “clickety-clack”! I remember it as “clackety-clack”. lol

    After having lived in Japan for a while, I grew tired of the clickety-clack…but you sure brought back the romance of train travel. Thanks.


  2. LB says:

    What memories, even if imagined ones, this post brings. As you might guess, I do love trains! A friend of mine and her husband took the train from Chicago to Colorado. They loved it! The only problem was the delays. )Passenger trains have to stand by for freight trains). So plan that trip but be prepared for time adjustments


  3. maesprose says:

    We could always hear the sound of the whistle, especially late at night. I loved it and as a child dreamed of being a passenger.


  4. great story…and I agree…why not bring them back…I would take a trip!


  5. It’s very sad how trains have disappeared and the ones we have are so decrepit. We need mass transit more than ever.


  6. I too lived near train tracks and this brought back wonderful memories–


  7. Amy says:

    there was one child watching and wondering–me. Our house was a small cornfield away from those same tracks.


What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s