The Good Old Days, the Balloon Tract and Railroads

The Following is a Radio Commentary about a simpler time of self-responsibility and family.

Hi, Fred Nelson for Community Comment,

When I was a kid, in the 1930s, the NWP Rail Road yard, now known as the "Balloon Tract", was a bustling place. Steam locomotives were being repaired or serviced at the round house for the trip back south, there were rail cars of every description on most every siding or spur with one or two switch engines working day and night. Most of our commerce was leaving and arriving by rail during that period.

Too young to be allowed alone in the area, I would catch these glimpses when my Father, who loved the waterfront, drove down to the docks at the foot of Commercial Street where we would observe the fishing fleet arrive with their catch. Large numbers of fishing boats would be lined up on the Bay, waiting to access the dock to unload.

Located in the rail yards, near where Broadway meets Second Street, was the "Hobo Jungle", comprising a vast array of huts made from discarded sheet metal, wood and cardboard. You have heard the stories of jobless men, during the Depression, riding the rails looking for work. The NWP was no exception. "Hobos", arriving at the end of the line, had little choice except to take another freight headed back south. Many rode the rails in those days and the camp was always full. It was not a place for the average citizen to visit, especially after dark.

One day, while visiting my Dad's paint store, located in the three hundred block of Fifth Street, I noticed a disheveled figure come in and buy a small container of wood alcohol, (this was also during Prohibition). After he had left the store, my Father told me that he probably would try to convert the wood alcohol into something to drink and that the stuff would most likely kill him sooner or later. Dad said that it was quite common place for the "Hobos" to drop in for the product.

The NWP passenger station, located on Second Street just east of Commercial, was an imposing structure with a covered platform running parallel to the tracks. Located on the platform was a news stand, operated by my aunt and uncle. I would look forward to the evenings when my parents and I would pay them a visit, just prior to the trains' departure. I loved watching the passengers milling about on the platform with the porters pushing and pulling the wagons loaded with luggage and freight. Of course, a treat from the candy counter, added to the excitement. Quite often, we would park in the lot adjacent to the station where we had a good view of the train. At 9:00 P.M. the locomotive’s bell would clang, the whistle would blow, and they were off in clouds of steam and black smoke. What a thrill for a kid who liked trains!

Fred Nelson for Community Comment Aired on 1/5/07

Did you read this clearly for what it is... a nostalgic recollection about a period when families spent time together appreciating the simple things in life?

Did you cringe because you are trapped by the "politically correct" indoctrination of recent decades?

For clarity regarding how to get beyond years of progressive indoctrination see "Why We Whisper: Restoring our Right to Say It’s Wrong" by Senator Jim DeMint and J. David Woodard Ph.D.

Now, guilt-free, read the commentary again and enjoy the wonder and simplicity of the "Good Old Days".

The "Good Old Days", The Balloon Tract, and The Railroads