This story was told to me by my mother and I don't remember doing it as I was four or five years of age at the time. Must have been in 1949-50.
According to my mother I wandered away from our home on the west side of Willows, in northern California and ended up standing along the train tracks in the middle of town watching the trains go by. A man driving a county dump truck noticed me, picked me up and took me back home. He was the son of the people that owned the farm house across the street from our house. What is amazing about this story is I must have walked 18 or 19 blocks across town on Sycamore Street, crossed highway 99 to the Southern Pacific train tracks on the other side. Sycamore Street was the main street going east and west through town with the Post Office, movie theater, drug store and other markets before intersecting with highway 99, which was the main highway at the time going north and south through the state. Why nobody noticed me walking that distance is puzzling or was it common for young children to be wandering the streets of a small town back then? We sure don't see young children wandering the streets today. I must admit I still enjoy watching trains, have even considered sitting in the little park along the train tracks in Oakland and watch the trains go by. Wonder if anybody would notice?
Of the people who notice, there are always a few who also care. Kudos to that dump truck driver that helped you back in 1950. Today, someone would no doubt call the police and stay with a lost child until they arrived. And I think that chillin' in Oakland by the tracks would no doubt yield some fellow trainspotters or ferroequinologists!
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