I don't live far from that bridge now, just a few blocks from here, back in the old neighborhood were I grew up, running the streets and playing until nightfall. I hope you enjoy my memory.

The Bridge of My Destination

That old railroad bridge with the train down the middle

and the cars humming along both sides, "rrrrrooom, rrrroooom" reigns

long and high in my memory. There wasn't much room on that big ol' bridge, standing high above the muddy Ohio. I, just looking down below, a scared little child, with eyes wide in wander, knowing I was safe because my daddy and my momma were with us.


I would sit in the back seat of the old black De Soto, hanging tight

to the hand holds, leaning forward as far as I could to see down

between the cracks. "rrrroooom, rrroooom!" across we would

travel on our way to old Louisville, perhaps looking for some shoes

or a new dress  or pick up Daddy's paycheck.


Sisters sit next to me, all of us sort of in a trance listening to that sound,

"rrr000m, rrroooom," crossing that ol railroad bridge. And at the end,

Daddy would just salute the man in the tow booth with momma sitting pristine and demure at his side. You see, Daddy worked and the K & I (Kentucky and Indiana Railroad). He was their engineer, running those big trains rumbling

past us like the speed of light, at least to me it seemed.


Momma and Daddy are gone on to their rewards but the ol' railroad bridge

still stands, although cars are not allowed on it. Only trains travel across the Ohio river these days. But, oh to once more travel and hear that soothing sound of the tires traveling to our distination, "rrroooom, rrrooooom!"



Poetry by Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 994 times
Written on 2011-10-25 at 13:07

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Really great write. I could feel myself and vision myself both ways as I were there with you. The detail is awesome and keep up the great work.

Zoya Zaidi
Yes Kathy, Those memories of driving down the favourite, oft-used destinations are so fascinating and inspiring... nostalgia grips you at times:
I remember driving to Delhi often with my mother in her Orange Volkswagen... we loved those trips- we would stop on the roadside and have juices or refreshments often... we loved that...
It has been a long time...
Wonder where you are...?

Phyllis J. Rhodes
Loved this shared memory sister. What made that rrrooomm sound was the dimpled metal we were driving over. Very unique for a bridge, no concrete, not even wood. The bridge "sang" to us. With all that has happened to the other "new" bridges between our small Southern Indiana towns and that big city of Louisville, they should open that bridge to traffic again. Railroad workers still use it, driving their vehickles across it to inspect it and do any maintenance work. It's the oldest but best built bridge between this side and that side of the river.

Jose Winston Soldevilla
God old days memories are great to reckon with.
It reminded me of my own too.
A beautiful reminiscence of who we were and what we did before. Great writing my friend!

Wonderful piece Kathy. I love your writing my friend. I lived about 30 miles from the nearest train track when a boy. I love your writing.

It is a memory you bring vivid and so well balanced .. the past and the present blending perfectly.
It made way to the heart and that is what good stories do.

Sid Gardner
Nice memories of Childhood Kathy. When I grew up in Liverpool we had the 'Dockers Umbrella'. This was an overhead railway system similar to that you have in NY or Chicago. The wharfmen walked to their place of work at the docks using the 'Umbrella' to protect them from the rain. My playground was a heap of pulverised bricks and burned out timbers provided by the Luftwaffe.

I enjoyed your memory very much, Kathy :-)
When I was little, the bridges I liked best were over rivers: my brothers and I would throw sticks over one side then race to the other to see whose stick was fastest.
A lovely description here; applause!

countryfog The PoetBay support member heart!
Brings back my own memories . . . dad had a green DeSoto, a very old and scary bridge across the Mississippi (cars on top, trains underneath), I'd hold my breath until we were on the other side. Nicely done Kathy.