Tom was laughing his butt off after this shoot. Why? He was amused at how I was limping through this shoot on my complete lack of train knowledge. I mean, I know trains insofar as they go choo choo, and they take people and freight from one place or another. But I don’t know diddly about diesel engines or, or, or, well, see – how can I tell you what I don’t know about if I don’t know anything about it?

I kept trying to steer the segment to the hobo part of the story while Tom wanted to get back to the guys who were watching the trains all day, taking notes, keeping track of it all. I liked when we introduced Sunrise, the hobo queen, to the one fellow taking all the notes who said he actually worked for the railroad and ordinarily would be chasing the likes of Sunrise off the yard. I must say too that when Steve Anderson, the man who quoted the hobo poem, talked about the pull of the road and how it gave people who just can’t settle down a place to go, I wanted to go too. The road has always been attractive to me, and being right where I am, in the here and now, has always been a challenge. Of course, I think I’ve matured a bit too much for my own hobo good when it comes to actually being at risk of hitting the road and leaving it all behind. Or maybe it’s age, or experience. I also love comfort. The idea of the road is far more exhilarating than its reality, I am certain. Still, I got a perspective just in that brief period of time with Sunrise and Steve that I don’t think I had before. A kind of melancholy and respect. Many of these folks who just can’t settle down don’t mean any harm. And in this lifestyle they find comfort and camaraderie with fellow travelers, according to our guests. Hey, it’s a big world and people find ways of accommodating their own peculiar needs. I’m glad there are people like you who make it possible for people like me to do my thing in front of the camera.

The Lure of the Rail