Where's the choo-choo?

This is a picture of my mom, dad, me (standing) and Deb (being held). This was taken in 1946. I was three.

My dad played with me a lot when I was little and before there were four of us, then his attention got divided and I wasn't his sole playmate any longer. I suppose I was jealous, but I don't remember that. Who does? Well, I guess if I went to see a shrink and that person delved deeply enough he/she would discover deep-seated resentment between me and my father. Since that will never happen, just know that the time I spent playing with my father was precious to me.

One of our favorite games was: "Where's the choo-choo?" As I mentioned before the railroad ran through the town about two blocks from where we lived, and you could see, yes see, it coming -- those were the days of steam engines and the smoke that billowed from the smokestack on the train was visible for a good mile or more. So, we could see it coming before we could hear the whistle, which blew at 8th avenue, 3rd avenue, Clements Bridge, and Evesham Rd. They were the only through streets in town, so while there were no rail guards at the railroad, the train did blast its' whistle.

Well, when we saw that smoke, dad would lift me into a wagon, or if it was in winter, put me on the sled, and down the street we'd go, all the while I was asking, "Where's the choo-choo, huh?" Annoying, I suppose, but he encouraged me. You see, I think of "Where's the choo-choo, huh" akin to the annoying, "Are we there yet?" Anyway, dear daddy would take me down the street and we'd get a close as was allowed to the tracks and watch the train go by and wave at the engineer and and passengers that were in the passenger car. The train went down to Grenloch and started, I believe over in Camden. It was mostly a freight train, though.

There were times when daddy and I would just stand there and count cars.

Speaking of choo-choos -- I had a friend, Patty Wilson, who lived in Gloucester, NJ and her home backed on a railroad track. We would sit on her back step and count the cars on trains as they passed her home. I loved that house, by the way, it had neat nooks and crannies. The most cars on a train that we counted was 114. Why do I remember that?

When my son was a baby we moved to Gloucester and lived in a HUD community while we were waiting for my husband's military orders to come in. I used to walk Phil (my boy) to a park that was just behind Patty's house, and we too would watch the train. They didn't run as frequently as they ran in the 50s, but Phil seemed to enjoy that as well. I'm sure he doesn't remember that since he was under a year old when we did that.

So, that's the story of "Where's the choo-choo?" Lest you think daddy was wasting time or a trip to the choo-choo, we always stopped at the post office on the way back!