Curfew was dictated by passenger train travel times.
When I was a young girl, I lived in the small town of Powell, Texas, and passenger train travel was common. The train came along the Cotton Belt Railway and stopped every evening at 11:45 p.m. That late night whistle meant a lot to me, not to mention my parents.
My parents were adamant that I had better be on the front porch by the time the train sounded its whistle, signaling the end of my date. At that time, I resented this rail monster dictating my curfew. But across the arc of time, what I would give to hear that train come rattling in just one more time.
The resounding rhythm of train wheels clicking in the darkness of the night always takes me back to my youth.
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