and
^,^
Were You Pulled By
The 400?
The 400 was the
First mile-a-minute
Steam-operated
streamliner
Regularly scheduled
to operate
Over a distance of
200 miles
Its name came from
its unheard-of ability
To pull a train 400
miles
In less than 400
minutes
And the name
suggested the future
The next decade
The 400 was
introduced on
And in 1936
It got the first
oscillating headlamp
A safety feature for
high-speed trains
People and animals
weren't used to such swiftly-approaching
Danger
Here comes the 400
Those of us lucky
enough to live
Near the tracks in
the 1940s
We would run down
through
Then source of
still-coveted
To the other train depot on Williams Street
to see the 400
Hoping it would stop
In its mighty glory
Sometimes it even had
an American flag
Flying above the
oscillating safety lamp
I walk that way now
Water debunked
A legend gone plain
Flags out of style
among the hip
That war is over
Trains rusty drones
Competing with trucks
The good buddies of
the roadway
In our way
Maybe sporting flag
decals
Next to permit decals
on their window glass
Beating out the iron
rails
Not quite yet - no, never
In the 40s the
400 ruled
Among the regular
high smoke-stacked
Black as coal
Guts-hanging-out-for-all-to-see
Steam engines
Pausing to take on water at the
Give entertainment to
TV-less children
And get their giant
wheels oiled
By trainmen in bib
overalls
Their bucket oil cans
with specially long spouts
And their watch
chains guarding
Marvelous timepieces
tucked in
Those upper blue and
gray striped pockets
Watches that were
cherished possessions
Setting those men
apart
Amidst the bursts of
steam trackside
Like dry-ice effects
on a stage
Times were hard and
my mother and grandmother
Would warn me at dusk
Don't go down there
There are tramps down
there
And there were
sometimes
But I never saw one
that meant
Me any harm
Come on
Like the 400 and the
other plainer trains
The tramps were
transitory
Unlike today's
homeless
They were said to
hole up briefly
In camps outside of
town
Sometimes they would
beg door-to-door
And leave a secret
mark
Where they were
treated kindly
I featured them
cooking stews in old tin cans
Staying away,
embarrassed
But I never truly met
a tramp to find out
They didn't seem to
want to know us
And we didn't seem to
want to know them
in the 1940s
My church was and is
just on the other side
Of those train tracks
And I don't remember
them teaching us
To worry about these
homeless people
Like they encourage
us to do now
But they might have
done so
I was little; I wondered
The mighty 400 flew
through town
Sometimes without stopping
It's oscillating
headlamp showing
Like Diogenes'
lantern -
It might have been
looking for an honest man
An honest boy
An honest tramp
It was an elite train
bent on getting
Where it was going
It's trainmen a
cut-above
Their denims seemed
starched
Their watches looked
even better
The uncluttered lines
of this engine
Showed little of what
was going on
Inside
A thing of wonder in
the change of the age
I saw men stopped at
railroad crossings
Interrupted by the coursing
400
Not cursing their bad
luck
But getting out of
their cars and doffing their hats
At the swiftly
arriving and disappearing
on the non-stops
Engineer who would
wave
An eddy of wind left
behind
Might swirl a
newspaper and dust up into the air
And in a moment the 400
was gone
What happened?
There are still
pictures of the 400 in the museum here
And a local tavern
across from the depot
Still bears its name
Reliquaries hold the
engines remaining now
We would put our
small feet on the tracks
To feel the power of
the still-out-of-sight
Incredible behemoth
400
Horn blaring its look
out
No old-fashioned bell 'dinging'
Look out for the
swinging beam
So connected;
We felt
We were going
somewhere
And the tramps rode
the rails
A mile a minute
sometimes
If they were pulled by
the 400
[David Dix]
   
Gym at redone renamed Les Paul Middle School, Waukesha
^,^
Justin Max Shoepke, metal sculptor,
last I heard now in CA,
used to live across the street from us on Colton St.
He sometimes displayed, before he went on, with
the West Main Street artists.
At that early period of his life I bought this candle holder
he'd fashioned from a fireplace andiron.
It is still in service at here at the Odd Fellows hall.
He was working from his studio in the garage
across the street from us, back then.
What a lucky thing to have!
(Justin is the son of Waukesha Realtor Sally Schoepke
and mortgage originator Steve Schoepke.)
^,^
Adios
Halloween is a thing of the past
for this year.
We've put away
the plastic jack-o-lantern
but there was a day
on Arcadian Ave
- our family homestead -
when this end of Halloween time
was observed
thus:
but there wa
flat pumpkin
from THE VULCAN WEATHERVANES 1980:
 SAME THEME: 
Play
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