Only did one train trip, in the 50's, though I'm in the same age range of 75. Instead my parents loved traveling and camping and i had been through all the lower 48 states by the time i got out of high school. This gave me a broader view of the world. Then to Alaska and Hawaii. Then Mexico, now 11 times. Then the US Virgin Islands,then Europe, then Scandinavian countries. Then back to traveling around the USA.
There you are! I've been missing your comments for that past month or so and wondered where you were. Hope you haven't been ill. I'm impressed with all your travels and wish you'd write about them. If not, you have lots of good memories to remember. Take care of yourself, Bob.
I knew were close in age, but not this close. I, too, was 13 in 1963. All year, as my birthday is Jan. 1.
This was a lovely piece, so well-paced. Like all good writers, you know what to say and what to leave unsaid. I'm fascinated with your relationship with LDS. I'd been wondering.
I bounced around different religions until I finally realized I felt more in tune with the Universe if I just disengaged completely. I was a member of the Baha'i Faith for sixteen years and it steered me into a more positive thought process. Faith itself is hard for me as I'm often too skeptical ... or perhaps have lost the capacity to believe ardently in something. I keep getting disappointed with things. I have learned a great deal from these spiritual and social wanderings. Plenty of fodder for stories. teehee
And thank you for your kind critique of the story. It means a lot to get feedback from a peer ... another writer who has earned her chops on a newspaper.
Thanks, Sue, for the nostalgic ride, for taking me for a spin on the old Union Pacific. Traveled through Ogden myself at age 8 and age 14 on the way from Oakland to Minot North Dakota. Both rides were life changing for me. The rail line called itself Uncle Pete. I loved every minute of it. I've ridden hundreds of trains throughout Europe and they are nothing like those huge powerful orange UP diesels cutting through the Sierra.
Indeed, they could be quite frightful with their size and mass. I like that the indigenous people called them the iron horse. They recognized the power and also the utility for traveling to favorable hunting grounds.
Such a wonderful coming-of-age story to which I can relate in very many ways! I love how you've described the sixties as a 'yeasty' decade - gosh, yes, I suppose that's exactly what it was. 😎
You've woven so many aspects of life - both yours, your community's, and America's - into this thrilling tale of growing up, of that tricky stage of life in which things don't make sense in the way they used to, of everything feeling so new and so old at the same time, of splintering-by-inevitability friendships, of one's very existence. That Ogden train ride was such a pivotal part of YOUR journey, and you explore its memory and the 'threshold of changes' it stood for with such warmth.
Only did one train trip, in the 50's, though I'm in the same age range of 75. Instead my parents loved traveling and camping and i had been through all the lower 48 states by the time i got out of high school. This gave me a broader view of the world. Then to Alaska and Hawaii. Then Mexico, now 11 times. Then the US Virgin Islands,then Europe, then Scandinavian countries. Then back to traveling around the USA.
There you are! I've been missing your comments for that past month or so and wondered where you were. Hope you haven't been ill. I'm impressed with all your travels and wish you'd write about them. If not, you have lots of good memories to remember. Take care of yourself, Bob.
I knew were close in age, but not this close. I, too, was 13 in 1963. All year, as my birthday is Jan. 1.
This was a lovely piece, so well-paced. Like all good writers, you know what to say and what to leave unsaid. I'm fascinated with your relationship with LDS. I'd been wondering.
I bounced around different religions until I finally realized I felt more in tune with the Universe if I just disengaged completely. I was a member of the Baha'i Faith for sixteen years and it steered me into a more positive thought process. Faith itself is hard for me as I'm often too skeptical ... or perhaps have lost the capacity to believe ardently in something. I keep getting disappointed with things. I have learned a great deal from these spiritual and social wanderings. Plenty of fodder for stories. teehee
And thank you for your kind critique of the story. It means a lot to get feedback from a peer ... another writer who has earned her chops on a newspaper.
Thanks, Sue, for the nostalgic ride, for taking me for a spin on the old Union Pacific. Traveled through Ogden myself at age 8 and age 14 on the way from Oakland to Minot North Dakota. Both rides were life changing for me. The rail line called itself Uncle Pete. I loved every minute of it. I've ridden hundreds of trains throughout Europe and they are nothing like those huge powerful orange UP diesels cutting through the Sierra.
Indeed, they could be quite frightful with their size and mass. I like that the indigenous people called them the iron horse. They recognized the power and also the utility for traveling to favorable hunting grounds.
Such a wonderful coming-of-age story to which I can relate in very many ways! I love how you've described the sixties as a 'yeasty' decade - gosh, yes, I suppose that's exactly what it was. 😎
You've woven so many aspects of life - both yours, your community's, and America's - into this thrilling tale of growing up, of that tricky stage of life in which things don't make sense in the way they used to, of everything feeling so new and so old at the same time, of splintering-by-inevitability friendships, of one's very existence. That Ogden train ride was such a pivotal part of YOUR journey, and you explore its memory and the 'threshold of changes' it stood for with such warmth.
Awesome writing. Loved every word. 😊
WOW! Thank you Rebecca. It's one of my favorite tales and I'm so glad you enjoyed it so deeply.
Really, really did! xxx