Finding tranquility among the turmoil

We are a society that lives for tomorrow. We plan our vacations months, if not years in advance and our jobs are oftentimes concentrated on events and details in the forthcoming months. That is certainly the case with journalism and my field of study. Consumers are looking to Christmas and tourist railroads are marketing Polar Express and other holiday trains. We will soon complain that summer ended all too soon, while we focus on holiday door busters and next year’s spring break.

The same can be said for the rail industry. Railroad companies and industry suppliers are overloaded in deploying Positive Train Control software for the next generation. Tier 3 becomes Tier 4 and public transit systems are forecasting rail transit needs for growing populations. Preservation groups cannot find young adults to volunteer because we are too busy holding onto the grab irons of life – all while making steps for what we perceive as a better life for tomorrow. Memories of the past are replaced with dates and reminders for tomorrow. It’s a part of life and it’s nothing to complain about – it is merely factual.

But periodically, it’s nice to push the computer chair away from the desk and take a moment to appreciate what is in front of you – and live in the moment. A quick nod of acknowledgement to the past for helping us achieve where we are today.

In June, I watched a severe thunderstorm roll across Delhi, Colo., while waiting for Amtrak’s eastbound Southwest Chief. The winds were howling and the clouds were erupting with torrential rains just a few miles to my north. I sat there for more than an hour watching the violent storm cell slowly drift across the flatlands toward Kansas. Moments later, relays started clicking and BNSF Railway’s only wig-wag crossing signal began its distinct swaying motion to signify the approaching Chief. A headlight emerged out of a small dip in the tracks and an at-speed Chief rolled across the small dirt crossing before disappearing into the rain showers around the bend. The wig-wag crossing soon retuned to its dark, vertical position. It was one of the coolest experiences from the trip.

In a world where our efforts are so concentrated on using new technology for a safer tomorrow, we sometimes lose track of what helped us to get where we are today. State-of-the-art crossing systems can take photos of drivers that violate railroad-warning signals. Today’s locomotives can record the right-of-way ahead, watch train crews inside the cab, and even detect when crew members may be using cellphones against company policy. But in Colorado on that stormy June evening, a few clicks of a relay told a reliable wig-wag signal to initiate its mechanical left-to-right motion. It wobbled back and forth, reliably for about 45 seconds before returning silent. It’s technology that is more than 100 years old – and it still works. I’m sure when I return to Delhi again, it’ll be gone – just as the semaphores along New Mexico’s Raton Subdivision will be replaced with PTC-compliant technology.

Our railroad industry is changing. Economic conditions create short-term change, but technology modifies our future indefinitely. We can’t help but live for tomorrow, but let’s take a moment to appreciate what’s in front of us before it’s gone.

I used to take photos to preserve the past, but now I take them to appreciate the present.