The Sound of the Train…

I was visiting with my father recently, sitting outside on his patio, when we both heard a train whistle in the distance. A slight smile came across his face.

“Whenever I hear the train, I say, ‘Hi, Pop!’” he said, going on to tell me why.

My grandfather worked for the railroad. As the story goes, when he’d almost reached the end of his shift, he would blow the train whistle when he knew he was close enough to home for his kids to hear it. They would then run to the train depot to meet him as he got off of work, and they’d all walk home together. My big, strong grandfather and his gaggle of kids. 

My dad is 89 years old. His father died in 1957. But this wonderful story lives on daily, in the simple sound of a train whistle.

This is why I started Your Stories Ink. Because stories like these are what weave through the fabric of our lives, our histories, our wonderful occasions and inevitable heartbreak. Whenever I hear someone say they don’t have much of a story to tell, I immediately disagree. Everybody does. The ordinary is made extraordinary by the simple fact that it is your version of life and no one else’s. I rejoice in the opportunity to help people see that, and to help capture the stories we all want told and cherished for years to come.

I’ll be heading back up to see Dad soon, and I’ll be sitting down with biography clients as well. Whenever possible I’ll give a glimpse of my projects here in the Your Stories Ink blog. I welcome your feedback along the way!

Leave a Reply