One day as I was twiddling my thumbs at Grandma Julia over at Lula, my mom’s kid brother, J. C., asked Gerald and me if we would like to walk over to the railroad and watch the new “Streamliner” go by. Sure enough, we parked ourselves by the little depot there at Lula. Soon, the newfangled dieselpowered train roared past. J. C said it was going 150 MPH. We could see people walking around the spacious luxury train, its dining car and club car looked like something out of a movie as we could see people in their suits and ties. We all wished we could have been on it. Going someplace well beyond Lula. But there we were.

The local railroad substituted something locals called “The Dinky.” The Dinky was a rather large trolly-streetcar thing. It had two passenger compartments finished out in beautiful cherry wood. It had a small postal mail sorting compartment and picked up and delivered mail all the way from Denton, Texas to the Kansas line.

I liked the little diesel powered streetcar/ thing.

The Rock Island RR was in trouble, too. Sometimes I would be called upon to take Pat’s Aunt Nora to Calvin to catch the Rock Island Rocket to Memphis to visit her kin. Eventually not only did the Rocket vanish, so did the entire Rock Island Railroad. No more plush overnight trips to Memphis for Aunt Nora.

The loss of the Rock Island was just the beginning of the end. Several years later, the local rail line through Allen was upgraded to continuous rail and rail traffic through here increased. Then came this: Our local railroad scheduled their most famous train engine to make a stop here in Allen. It was their famous Engine #844. In fact, they arranged for the train to make a 2 hour stop and requested the city provide a fill up of water for the big engine’s boilers. Of course, the town complied.

The train would be pulling 28 special old and historic plush passenger cars. National dignitaries would be aboard (one I remember for sure, Henry Kissinger). I was pretty excited. Newspaper notices in Oklahoma City and Tulsa had front page stories and sure enough, crowds showed up (in the area of the Allen laundromat) and waited for the big train. Allen’s fire truck, manned by Russell Kimbrell and Wes Rinehart, waited to refill the big steamer Allen water.

I heard the whistle. It was deep and other worldly. It was about Steedman. The train people said the train had been traveling 120 MPH on the new smooth tracks. It soon glided to a halt. I never did see Henry but local newspaper publisher Bill Robinson was all over it. He traversed the train, interviewing many celebrities, including our Secretary of State Kissenger. In fact, he was having such a good time he just stayed aboard. His long suffering wife had to drive up to Muskogee to fetch him home. I went to bed happy that night. The newly laid rail insured (so I thought) that the railroad would stay here and not be pulled up.

It wasn’t very long after this great and thrilling day that we read in the Daily Oklahoman that it was indeed to be abandoned and soon hundreds of workers attacked the railroad and soon it was all gone. No more midnight whistles for us. Our beloved railroad was and is all gone.

Have a good weekend and be sure and go to church this Sunday. Churches can be like the railroad. Use it or lose it. I enjoy your emails.

Wayne Bullard, DPh

cwaynebullard@gmail.com