From The Archives Of Memory

(Picture by J. Cruder)

An event from my teenage years resurfaces in my mind from time to time as if it were hard coded into my memory:

This event occurred one summer day when I was probably 13 or 14 years old. I had walked to the far end of town and was hurrying back home for a reason that I cannot now remember.

As I approached a train crossing, the warning lights started flashing and the protective gate came down across the road and sidewalk. I stopped and observed the freight train; straining to see how long it was in order to make the mental calculations how long that I would have to wait for it to pass.

Observing it more closely, I noticed that the train had slowed down considerably and that there was a large space in between the front and back wheels. According to the calculations of my teenage mind, if I ran and then dropped and rolled at just the right time, I would be able to get to the other side and continue my way home.

I watched a few more freight cars pass to ensure my timing was just right and prepared myself mentally to go through with it. In my mind I was absolutely convinced that I would successful.

Unexplainably, however, I froze before I even began to attempt it. I just stood and watched as the rest of the freight cars passed and the protective gate opened once again.

To this day, I am thankful that I didn't go through with it since something now tells me that had I tried, things would have gone horribly wrong.