History
A cowboy is an animal herder who tends cattle on ranches in North America, traditionally on horseback, and often performs a multitude of other ranch-related tasks. At least that is what it was in the Old West. When the United States was being settled, big ranchers were the historic American cowboy of the late 19th century. The “job” of cowboy arose from the vaquero traditions of northern Mexico and became a figure of special significance and legend in the United States. The type of cowboy known as a wrangler focuses on caring for the horses used in cattle work. Alongside ranch duties, some cowboys also work in or compete at rodeos. Cowgirls, first recognized in the late 19th century, had a less-documented role historically, but today they take on the same tasks and earn significant respect for their accomplishments both in ranching and rodeo. In many other parts of the world, like South America and Australia, cattle handlers perform jobs much like those of the cowboy.
We often think of the cowboy as pretty much an American tradition, but in reality, the cowboy has deep historic 
roots tracing back to Spain and the earliest European settlers of the Americas. Over time, differences in terrain, climate, and the influence of cattle-handling traditions from various cultures led to America’s unique styles of equipment, clothing, and animal handling. As practical cowboys adjusted to the modern world, their gear and techniques evolved too, though many classic traditions remain. They adapted to what they needed in the places they worked. The American cowboy was a key figure during the Westward Expansion, managing cattle and horses while performing tasks like caring for animals, riding the range to keep herds together, branding calves, and driving cattle to market.
The cowboy tradition began in Spain and transitioned to America when the earliest European settlers brought cattle to the Americas. As Americans pushed westward, many Mexican vaqueros were working cattle, and the new settlers learned from them. However, lifestyle and traditions changed throughout the years due to differences in terrain and climate, distinct equipment styles, clothing, and how the cowboys handled the animals. The chief qualifications to work as a cowboy required courage, physical fitness, horsemanship, and skill in using the lariat. Little else mattered out on the range. A man had to be able to hunt for food and kill predators to keep the livestock safe. You couldn’t sell at market the stock that was stolen or killed. Rustlers became a common “predator” in those days. From those wanting to make a quick buck to those in need of food for their starving families, the cattle on an open range were considered a prime catch…if the rustler could get away with it. The cowboys were there to see that it didn’t happen, and the job often made them hard…and 
lonely. Nights on the range could leave a man longing for female companionship…not that those men always mad good choices there. The saloons were filled with cowboys on their days off, and trouble often ensued! Still, there were those who stayed out of trouble and eventually managed to acquire a wife and get a place of their own. in many ways, while it was a hard life, it was also a good life, and a rewarding one.
Everyone these days knows what a powerline is, and most of us would consider them to be a serious eyesore, but on June 3, 1889, when the first powerline was placed, it signified a wonderful new accomplishment…the transportation of electricity from one place to another. America’s first electric power line carried energy 14 miles from Willamette Falls to Portland, Oregon, which served to pioneer modern electrical transmission. At that time, few, if any, homes had any electrical wiring, and as with most innovation, it can be slow in coming to the masses.
The Industrial Revolution marked the beginning of widespread human-generated electricity. Many people credit Benjamin Franklin with discovering electricity in 1752, when he realized that sparks from lightning could produce power. However, the development of electricity on power lines wasn’t the work of just one inventor, but the result of collective engineering efforts and fierce competition in the late 19th century, with several key figures influencing its design and implementation. Before dedicated power lines, cities relied on mechanical systems such as water pipes, air pressure, and moving cables to transmit power. By the 1880s, electric arc lighting and incandescent lighting systems started using wires, but these were short-range and often operated separately for different voltages.
In 1882, Thomas Edison’s Pearl Street Station in New York City became the first centralized power plant, 
delivering electricity through underground wires to customers within about a mile. It used direct current (DC) at low voltages, which limited its range and required separate lines for different devices. The real gamechanger came with Nikola Tesla’s alternating current (AC) system, promoted by George Westinghouse. Tesla’s patents for polyphase AC motors and transformers made it possible to efficiently change voltage levels, sending electricity over long distances at high voltage and then stepping it down for safe use. This laid the groundwork for today’s overhead and underground transmission systems.
Tesla and Westinghouse may have pioneered AC technology, but the practical setup of overhead power lines…wires strung along towers or poles as we see today…came from engineers and utility companies in the early 1900s. They focused on making them safe, well-insulated, cool enough to operate, and tough against the weather, eventually adapting the designs to carry everything from low-voltage distribution (under 1 kV) to ultra-high-voltage transmission above 800 kV.
Nikola Tesla and George Westinghouse developed the AC system that made long-distance power transmission 
possible, while Thomas Edison created the first centralized power plant and early distribution networks. In the early 20th century, engineers designed the overhead line structures and safety systems that are still used today. Although no one “designed electricity on power lines” in a single moment, Tesla’s AC system and Westinghouse’s efforts to commercialize it were the key breakthroughs that enabled modern overhead power lines, building on the earlier innovations of Edison and others. The need is there, but all of the overhead powerlines are an eyesore…especially when taking pictures.
Many people know that Heart Mountain near Cody, Wyoming served as an internment camp for Japanese Americans during World War II, because the government was worried that those people might still have ties and loyalties to Japan, who was our enemy. While that fact is well known, there are still mysteries surrounding Heart Mountain. The story behind Heart Mountain is a strange one and few people know it all. Heart Mountain actually started out 62 miles from its current location, but it was moved during a volcanic landslide. Many people have said they would “move mountains” for someone, but in Northern Wyoming, the mountain actually moved.
Heart Mountain is an 8,123-foot klippe just north of Cody, Wyoming, rising from the floor of the Bighorn Basin. In geology, a klippe refers to an outlying block of rock that was once part of a larger nappe…a sheet of rock that has been transported over considerable distances along a thrust fault. Rather than being a part of the Absaroka Range, Heart Mountain now lies 62 miles to the east, in the Big Horn Basin. Scientists have been able to confirm that Heart Mountain in Wyoming was once part of the range when it 
formed 50 million years ago…so what happened? Turns out, it moved those 62 miles away thanks to a volcanic landslide that took place over just about half an hour. That means the entire mountain was moving across the basin at 100 miles per hour.
For years, scientists have puzzled over the mystery of Heart Mountain. The summit rocks are roughly 500 million years old, while those beneath are only about 50 million years old. How could the older rocks end up on top of much younger ones? To find out, geophysicist Einat Aharonov from the Weizmann Institute of Science and Columbia University geologist Mark Anders built a computer model to make sense of the available data. In short, unusual water-filled dikes in Heart Mountain left no room for lava during the volcanic activity that formed the Absaroka Range. When pressure from both water and lava increased, it led to a massive explosion and landslide that sent part of the mountain hurtling across the landscape. There are all kinds of scientific proof that this is what happened but suffice it to say that the easiest on is that when the rocks at the bottom of a 
mountain are millions of years younger than those of the mountain top there is only one possible explanation. The top was moved somehow.
Of course, exactly when this all to place still remains a mystery. However, at the time of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, the mountain was already in its current location. It was from that expedition that Heart Mountain got its name. In the Crow language, it was called “Bíi ásaalée” or “Buffalo Heart Mountain,” inspired by local legends that saw a heart-like shape in its form. William Clark and George Drouillard, a hunter and guide on the journey, drew from this legend when naming the mountain, but decided to use the English version instead of the original Crow name.
Jedediah Smith, while most people didn’t know it, was one of the nation’s most important trapper-explorers. Smith’s contributions to exploring the Far West weren’t fully appreciated until modern scholars studied the records of his extensive travels. Like other mountain men, he headed west as a practical businessman for eastern fur companies, aiming to discover new areas rich in beaver and otter and to establish trade with Native American communities. It could have been a lucrative business, since the Native Americans depended on furs for so many things.
Nevertheless, starting in 1822, when he first set out with fur trader William Ashley, Smith’s journeys revealed key details about western geography and potential routes that proved invaluable to future pioneers. It’s likely that he had no idea that he was making history in the way he was. He was just trying to start his business. Still, his biggest achievement came in 1824, when he rediscovered the South Pass, which was a 
relatively easy way across the Rocky Mountains in what is now western Wyoming. While the first Anglo-Americans had crossed it back in 1812…fur traders heading east from a Pacific Coast post…their find went largely unnoticed. While it had been discovered before, it was Smith that made the South Pass a well-known and heavily used route for trappers, and decades later it became part of the Oregon Trail, making travel to Oregon and California much easier for wagon trains.
Although Smith had opened up many new territories for future pioneers, he gained little monetarily from his years of dangerous work. In 1830, he headed back to Saint Louis with plans to start a mercantile business and create detailed maps of the lands he had explored. But before he could begin, an associate talked him into delivering a load of goods to Santa Fe, New 
Mexico. Seeing a way to make a little money to start his business, Smith made the decision to make the delivery. In early 1831, he set out from Saint Louis with 83 men, heading south along the Cimarron River, an area almost entirely lacking drinkable water. Confident in his wilderness skills, he underestimated the challenge and failed to bring enough supplies. By mid-May, their water was nearly gone, and the men split up daily to search for waterholes. On May 27, 1831, Smith was riding alone on one of those searches, when a hunting party of Comanche Native Americans attacked and killed him on the Santa Fe Trail.
Weapons of war need to be kept out of the hands of the enemy, if at all possible. On May 26, 1940, 10 Hawker Hurricane planes from Number 46 Squadron were successfully landed on the HMS Glorious in an effort to do just that…keep them out of enemy hands. These days, landing plane on a ship is an everyday occurrence. We have all hear of aircraft carriers and seen dramatic footage of planes landing on a ship’s deck with their tail hook dropped to grab onto a rope across the deck, jerking the plane to a halt before it can plunge into the sea. It is all common practice, but what if there was no long deck or tail hook? Well, in 1940, that was the case…no long decks, and no tail hook, and het these planes, that needed a long runway to stop them, needed to be kept out of enemy hands, and there wasn’t time to make the necessary changed to the craft, like a tail hook. Impossible or not, this remarkable feat did happen, and it marked the first time high-performance aircraft were landed on a carrier without the aid of arrester gear. The pilots of the Hurricanes had to navigate rough conditions and faced significant challenges, but they managed to complete their mission despite the risks involved.
The whole thing came about as the British hastily retreated from Norway during World War II. The initial plan was to destroy the 10 land-based Hurricane planes to prevent them from falling into German hands. However, deciding they were too valuable to lose, they came up with a plan to land them on the British carrier HMS Glorious and transport them back to England. As they saw it, there were two issues to overcome. The Hurricanes’ landing speed was too high for the carrier’s short deck, and they lacked arresting hooks. In the end, it was the pilots that came up the fix, by placing a 15-pound sandbag in the plane’s tail, which helped it brake harder and stop completely on the carrier. In the end, all 10 Hurricanes landed safely…and history was made.
In April 1940, HMS Glorious was recalled to the Home Fleet to provide air cover for British forces landing in Norway. Eighteen Gloster Gladiators from Number 263 Squadron RAF (Royal Air Force) were flown aboard for transfer to Norwegian airbases, along with eleven Blackburn Skuas of 803 Squadron and eighteen Sea Gladiators from 802 and 804 Squadrons. HMS Glorious and HMS Ark Royal reached central Norway on April 24th, where 263 Squadron flew off to their destination, and the carriers’ own aircraft struck targets in and south of Trondheim. Glorious returned to Scapa Flow late on April 27th to refuel and take on new aircraft, with her Sea Gladiators covering both carriers and damaging a Heinkel He 111 on reconnaissance. Before leaving, she transferred four operational Skuas to Ark Royal. She returned on May 1st, but poor weather limited her to loading only a dozen Swordfish of 823 Squadron, three Skuas, and one Blackburn Roc. That day, the task force endured heavy Luftwaffe attacks and withdrew in the evening, with a Junkers Ju 87 Stuka shot down by Sea Gladiators after it released its bomb.
On May 18th, Glorious returned with six Supermarine Walrus flying boats from 701 Squadron and 18 Hawker Hurricanes from Number 46 Squadron RAF, the latter loaded aboard by crane. The Walruses were quickly flown to Harstad, but since the Skånland airfield wasn’t ready, the Hurricanes stayed aboard until Glorious reached Scapa on May 21st. Returning to the Narvik area on May 26th, the Hurricanes were promptly flown off. Even this success proved short lived and British forces were ordered to withdraw a few days later. Operation Alphabet kicked off in the north on the night of June 3–4, with the carrier HMS Glorious arriving off the coast on June 2 to provide support. She carried only nine Sea Gladiators from 802 Squadron and six Swordfish from 823 Squadron for self-defense, as there were hopes of evacuating RAF fighters if possible. On June 7th, ten Gladiators from 263 Squadron flew aboard from Bardufoss, followed later that day by Hurricanes from 46 
Squadron, which landed without major issues despite their higher landing speeds compared to biplanes. Pilots had figured out that placing a 15-pound sandbag in the rear of the Hurricane allowed them to use full brakes right after landing. This amazing feat marked the first time that high-performance monoplanes without tailhooks were able to land on an aircraft carrier, and none crashed.
Many military holidays are misunderstood, celebrated incorrectly, or forgotten altogether, often becoming just another day off work. Memorial Day, for example, is seen as the start of summer, marked with picnics and parties, but in truth, it’s a day to honor the soldiers who fought in wars and never made it home. They gave everything…their lives…for the freedom we and others enjoy, a debt we can never truly repay. We truly owe them so much, the least of which is to be remembered for their sacrifice.
I haven’t personally lost a loved one in any war, but I know a few people who have, and my heart goes out to them today. The families of those brave soldiers who gave their lives sacrificed as well, and that sacrifice is no small thing. In my own family, there were men who died in war, though I didn’t know them personally. I doubt any family can be completely untouched by such loss, considering all the wars throughout history. Somewhere in each family, I’m sure there have been soldiers who were lost in battle or as prisoners of war. The deserve to be remembered for that selfless sacrifice.
Memorial Day is important because without the sacrifices these men and women made, 
our world would be a very different place today. While some may not agree with the changes the current administration is bringing to the nation, this administration is bringing honor back to our military, and I approve. This day isn’t just for barbecues and enjoying a long weekend…it’s a time to reflect on those we’ve lost in the difficult wars fought to keep this nation and others free. As you go about your day, remember that, and if you know a family who has lost a soldier, thank them. We owe them and their loved one a great debt of gratitude. To anyone who has lost someone in battle, thank you for your sacrifice and that of your loved one…it will never be forgotten.
On May 21, 1960, a tremor struck Valdivia, Chile, kicking off a series of quakes that would devastate the region. By the time it was over, 5,000 people had lost their lives and another 2 million were left homeless. The first quake measured 7.6 in magnitude and was deadly in its own right, but it turned out to be just a foreshock to one of the most powerful earthquakes ever recorded.
At 3:11pm the next afternoon, a massive magnitude 9.5 earthquake struck southern Chile, with its epicenter just off the coast beneath the Pacific Ocean. There, the Nazca oceanic plate plunged 50 feet under the South American plate. The quake triggered enormous landslides down the region’s mountains and unleashed a series of tsunamis along Chile’s coast. At 4:20pm, a 26-foot wave crashed ashore, sweeping away most buildings and structures as it receded. But the worst was yet to come…minutes later, a slower, towering 35-foot wave rolled in, killing an estimated 1,000 people, including many who had sought safety on higher ground. The 1960 Valdivia earthquake in Chile was the most powerful ever recorded. It caused widespread devastation, tsunamis, and significant global impact.
The Valdivia earthquake, also called the Great Chilean Earthquake, struck near Lumaco, about 354 miles south of Santiago, with Valdivia hit the hardest. Lasting around 10 minutes, it caused intense shaking and set off a series of tsunamis across the Pacific. This massive megathrust quake happened when the Nazca Plate was forced beneath the South American Plate along Chile’s coast. The fault shift stretched between 500 and 1,000 km, releasing immense energy and creating both vertical and horizontal ground movement. Foreshocks, including a magnitude 8.1 quake in Concepción the day before, had already caused major damage and hinted at the disaster to come. Cities like Valdivia and Puerto Montt suffered extensive destruction. Buildings collapsed, rivers changed course, and soil subsidence created new wetlands. Electricity and water systems were destroyed, and the city of Valdivia experienced severe flooding. Two days later, Cordón Caulle volcano erupted, marking the first eruption in four decades
The earthquake triggered tsunamis that swept across the Pacific, impacting far-off regions. In Hawaii, waves up to 35 feet hit Hilo, causing 61 deaths. Japan saw around 140 deaths and heavy property damage, while eastern New Zealand, southeast Australia, the Aleutian Islands, and parts of the United States West Coast suffered minor damage. In Chile, economic losses were estimated at $400 to $800 million at the time (about $4.5 to $8.8 billion today), with additional damages in Hawaii, Japan, and the Philippines from the tsunamis. The toll could have been much worse…thanks to a foreshock 30 minutes earlier, many people were already outside, 
avoiding building collapses, and the locals quickly evacuated the coast knowing that a tsunami was coming. After leaving Chile, the tsunami traveled hundreds of miles west toward Hawaii, the Philippines, and Japan, where hundreds also died. In fact, the waves set off by this earthquake bounced back and forth across the Pacific Ocean for a week. Aftershocks were recorded for a full 30 days after the main tremor.
Coxey’s Army was a protest march in 1894, led by Jacob Coxey, made up of unemployed workers calling for government-funded public works and legal-tender currency. It arose during the Panic of 1893, a harsh economic depression that left over four million Americans jobless and created widespread struggles for both industrial laborers and farming families. Ohio businessman Jacob S Coxey organized the march to urge Congress to support a federally funded road-building program that would create jobs and boost the money supply through issuing legal-tender Treasury notes.
Coxey described the march as a “petition in boots,” a symbolic way to directly appeal to the government by taking to the streets. It kicked off on March 25, 1894, in Massillon, Ohio, with around 100 men. As they moved east, they passed through cities like Pittsburgh, Becks Run, and Homestead, Pennsylvania. Other groups, like Kelley’s Army from California and Fry’s Army from Los Angeles, tried similar marches but mostly fell apart before reaching Washington. By the time Coxey’s Army arrived in the capital on April 30, 1894, it had grown to about 500 people, with others from across the country joining along the route. They camped on a 260-acre site in Colmar Manor, Maryland, before attempting to present their demands to Congress.
When Coxey and his followers reached Washington DC, they tried to speak from the Capitol steps but were arrested for trespassing on the Capitol lawns. While the event drew plenty of attention, it didn’t lead to immediate policy changes. However, it did shine a light on the growing frustration among unemployed Americans and went on to inspire future protest movements.
Coxey’s Army was the first major protest march on Washington DC, introducing the concept of organized, mass demonstrations to push for changes in federal policy and inspiring the phrase “Enough food to feed 
Coxey’s Army.” Although the march didn’t meet its legislative aims, it represented the struggles of the unemployed in the 1890s, as well as showing the people’s readiness to take direct action for economic relief. It also highlighted the broader social tensions, like debates over currency, labor rights, and the government’s major role in ensuring economic security. The men must have felt better for having at least tried.
On May 15, 1765, Parliament passed the Quartering Act, setting out where and how British soldiers would be housed in the American colonies. The Quartering Act of 1765 required the colonies to provide housing for British soldiers in barracks supplied by the colonies. If the barracks were too small, local communities had to lodge soldiers in inns, stables, alehouses, food establishments, and wine sellers’ homes. If there were still soldiers without a place to stay after all these public houses were full, the act stated that the colonies must take or rent vacant houses, outbuildings, barns, or other suitable structures to 
accommodate His Majesty’s forces. All of this was to be free of charge to the British troops and funded by the colonies alone.
The wording of the act makes it clear that the idea of Redcoats kicking colonists out of their bedrooms to move in themselves was neither the law’s intent nor its actual practice. Still, the New York colonial assembly didn’t appreciate being ordered to house British troops. They wanted to be asked and give their consent before having soldiers among them. So, they refused to comply, leading Parliament in 1767 to pass the New York Restraining Act, which barred the royal governor from approving any new legislation until the assembly followed the Quartering Act. This was exactly the kind of totalitarianism that caused the colonies to declare their independence, and it was never going to be tolerated…at least not for long.
In New York, the governor convinced Parliament that the assembly had met its obligations. In Massachusetts, where barracks already stood on an island far from the unrest stirred by the Townshend Revenue Acts, British officers followed the Quartering Act’s rule to house soldiers in public spaces, not private homes. With few options, they set up tents on Boston Common. Living side by side with angry Patriots, the soldiers soon clashed in street fights, leading to the Boston Massacre of 1770, in which five stone-throwing colonists were killed and any remaining trust between Bostonians and Redcoats was shattered. That divide never healed, and the British troops remained in Boston until George Washington and the Continental Army forced them out in 1776.
The San Bernardino train disaster, which was also known as the Duffy Street incident or the 1989 Cajon Pass Runaway, was actually two connected events in San Bernardino, California. First, on May 12, 1989, a runaway train derailed. Then, on May 25, the Calnev Pipeline…a petroleum line next to the tracks…failed after being damaged by earth-moving equipment during the crash cleanup.
On the morning of May 12, 1989, at 7:36am, a Southern Pacific freight train with six locomotives and 69 cars carrying Trona, a non-marine evaporite mineral primarily composed of sodium carbonate, sodium bicarbonate, and water, widely used to produce soda ash and baking soda, lost control while coming down Cajon Pass. It derailed on an elevated curve and crashed into a neighborhood on Duffy Street, just northeast of where the 210 Foothill Freeway crosses the Lytle Creek wash.
The conductor, head-end brakeman, and two local residents lost their lives in the wreck. Seven houses along the street next to the tracks were destroyed, along with the lead locomotives and all the freight cars. The investigation would later reveal that the clerks in Mojave had miscalculated the train’s weight, and to make matters worse, the crew at the front didn’t know one of the rear helper engines had faulty dynamic brakes. This meant there wasn’t enough braking power to keep the train’s speed in check during the descent. When the helper engineer realized the speed was getting out of control, he made an emergency brake application, which shut off the dynamic brakes entirely, causing the train to run away. It hit about 110 miles per hour before derailing on an elevated curve with a posted limit of 35, near Duffy Street, sending the lead engines and several cars off the high track bed and into nearby houses, completely leveling them.
Data from the locomotives’ black boxes revealed that the third head-end unit’s dynamic brakes weren’t working at all, though the sound of the cooling fans fooled the crew into thinking they were. After the wreck, it was discovered that the helper locomotive engineer knew about the faulty brakes on one of his units but never told the head-end crew. A mix of weight miscalculation, poor communication, and bad brake equipment left the train far too heavy to control on the downhill grade. This was a disaster waiting to happen. Once dynamic 
braking was lost due to the helper engineer’s emergency brake application, the massive weight of the loaded cars caused a rapid acceleration that mechanical brakes alone couldn’t stop. The train flew off the 35 mile per hour curve by Duffy Street at 110 miles per hour, scattering locomotives, cars, and cargo. Leading were Southern Pacific SD40T-2 8278, SD45Rs 7551 and 7549, and SD45T-2 9340, followed by 69 trona-loaded hopper cars, with SD40T-2 8317 and SD45R 7443 pushing from the rear.
Killed in the wreck were Conductor Everett Crown (fatally crushed in the nose of unit SP 8278) and Brakeman Allan Riess (fatally crushed in the cab of unit SP 7549), along with two young boys, Jason Thompson (age 10 years), and Tyson White (age 7 years), who were crushed and asphyxiated when the train destroyed one of the houses on Duffy Street. Engineer Frank Holland remained in his seat at the control stand in unit SP 8278 at the head of the train and suffered several cracked ribs and a punctured lung. However, he was able to crawl out of his wrecked locomotive and was helped down by eyewitnesses on the scene. Engineer Lawrence Hill and Brakeman Robert Waterbury, who were in the helper locomotives, received minor injuries.
Six feet underground alongside the track lay a 14-inch high-pressure petroleum pipeline operated by Calnev Pipeline. During cleanup, it was marked with stakes to prevent accidental damage. Pipeline officials stayed on site as safety observers while the rail cars were cleared, but not during the trona material cleanup. Train service on the affected track resumed four days after the derailment. Thirteen days later, on May 25, 1989, at 8:05am, just after witnesses saw a train pass through the site, the pipeline burst at the curve where the derailment occurred, spraying gasoline into the neighborhood. The fuel ignited into a massive fire that burned for nearly seven hours, sending flames 300 feet into the air. By the time it was extinguished, the fire had claimed two lives, destroyed eleven more houses and 21 cars. Five of the destroyed homes stood directly across from those lost in the derailment, while another was the only house on Duffy Street’s track side spared in the crash. Four more homes suffered moderate smoke and fire damage, and three others had only smoke damage. Total property losses reached $14.3 million (more $38 million today), with the fire causing more damage than the derailment, though the derailment had more fatalities.
To this day, the neighborhood located at Duffy Street and Donald Street, has not been rebuilt, much to the 
distaste of the residents who lived there. I’m sure it is mostly because of the continuing danger of a derailment at that corner on the tracks, but I don’t suppose the people would understand that. Perhaps a memorial might be erected on the sight, along with a park or something. While people could hear the train coming, I suppose the danger would still exist.
