My own personal experiences riding passenger trains as a child were exciting. But as it was, I was more a watcher than rider. One hot July day in a cotton patch near Lula as the “Streamliner” zipped past. My Uncle J C and my brother Gerald stopped their work chopping cotton and leaned on their hoes. As the train went by you could see people walking about the train and then the dinner car passed. There were people in coats and ties eating and drinking “Heaven knows what” in airconditioned spender and my brother was stunned.

“Where do you reckon that train is going?” Gerald said. Uncle J C looked on and said, “I don’t know, but I wish I was on it.”

Many years later I found myself alive and well north of Lula in Allen, Oklahoma. The same railroad line that we had stood by down at Lula ran right through here. And then came this announcement in the Daily Oklahoman. “Union Pacific’s famed steam engine #844 was coming to Allen!” This giant steam engine “show” train would be stopping and taking on water right here. Right beside SH-48. Allen city fathers had promised the railroad people that we would donate all the free water they needed for the big engine. Railroad junkies from Oklahoma City to Dallas started to converge on Allen. “Bring your cameras,” they said.” And we all did!

What could be better? In addition to the famous engine, the old 844 was pulling 26 famous carriage cars and presidential campaign cars. This big steamer could pull 26 cars at a steady 120mph on good straight and level track—almost forever. The train arrived right on time. You could hear its special whistle from the time it reached Steedman. Its howl sent a chill through my body as I stood right where the Allen laundromat is now. Hundreds of camera toting fans edged closer to the tracks. The train was pulling special luxury cars— one of which carried our Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger.

Russell Kimbrell and Phillip Milner stood at attention by Allen’s big City Pumper, ready to pump water into old 844. They were ready. The big steamer didn’t top off until we pumped in 5,000 gallons. Among the avid rail enthusiasts were my dad, Cecil Bullard. Of course, noted Allen Newspaper publisher Bill Robinson was waiting with his reporter’s notebook and his officious looking big camera. He was prepared for his big interviews on this plush train with all the national dignitaries. Along with what seemed to be thousands of train enthusiasts.

The train sat here in Allen for over two hours but finally it had its fill of Allen water and its engineers all attired in white shirts, white helmets and special railroad ties gave a long blow of its whistle signaling that it was heading out to its next stop: Muskogee. All the visitors were booted off except for one stowaway. Yes. Our hardworking newsman, Bill Robinson stayed on. I guess he didn’t know the train wouldn’t stop until it reached Muskogee. His faithful wife Dayna had to drive all the way to Muskogee and fetch Bill back. I’m not sure she is over it even yet.

I was so proud of my little town that day. The big engine, a 8-44 steamer (Kissinger forgotten by now) had carried the day, arriving on our brandnew welded rail track. The finest track in the state. But soon after our big day, the railroad decided to pull up all their new track. The line closed. No more trains. Old 844 will never return to Allen, nor will Henry Kissinger. For a long time, locals remembered that #844 had set a speed record as it hooted its way into our town. And our firemen were proud that the big engine made it on to Muskogee on Allen City Water. But while we lament the loss of our busy railroad and the momentary fame #844 brought. I think it’s safe to assume that Henry Kissinger nor old #844 will never visit Allen again. But we did get our newspaper man back. Thanks to Dayna.

Have a good week and be sure to attend your church this Sunday.

Wayne Bullard, DPh

cwaynebullard@gmail.com