Tom Sawyer, Huck Finn and ME!

It is about 7 AM here in Hannibal, Missouri. The skys are grey blue, yet well lit through the minor morning overcast appearance. A man I met getting coffee this morning said that he said it was supposed to be in the high 90's again today and that he thought it looked like rain, but, more than being the truth, I think this is just what old men, like us, say to each other in the morning. The morning breeze is steady with gusts that just light up my soul this morning as the 68 degree temperatures make it very easy to handle being in the midwest on a beautiful and inspiring mid summer morning.
A freight train blasts in behind me, blowing its tooth rattling horn way to loudly and repeatedly. The engines are pulling many open top coal cars, flat cars with rolls of steel strapped down on them, large tankers with the ADM logo emblazoned on the sides and other jet black and light gray tankers carrying undisclosed materials, along with open slotted and corrugated steel paneled cars carrying who knows what, possibly livestock, followed by the run of the mill regular box cars with heavy steel sliding doors, some with the doors still half open as they run down the tracks just tempting the hobo or gypsy in me to run and jump on board into one and take the trip just to find out where it is going. As a kid I read and heard of many stories of men who walked the tracks and rode along on these dirty old freight cars some even knowing where they were going. This is another thing that today I find romantic and would like to try just once in my life. The train cars pick up speed as the entire assembly processes through on the outer edge of town with out even the faintest idea that I am here taking in each moment of bliss in this magical spot. The only disappointment for me in this very moment is that at the end of the train, there is no caboose just the last baby blue box car.
I am sitting in the our hybrid car at a portion of the town docks right on the edge of the mighty Mississippi River. In front of me to my right is the modified steamboat named the Mark Twain. She is all decked out with those (old fashioned) plastic backyard chairs we are almost all familiar with, for all of us tourist who enjoy getting on such throw back pleasure boats and motoring around the river for a while reliving the stories of Mark and Huck and the gloriously romanticized life on the mighty river. Two young guys have just arrived . One on a bike and the other in his car. The guy with the car is obviously the man in charge as he has a set of keys that lets him into the lacked gate that could stop only the least of those desirous of getting onto the dock and to the front door of a floating barge/house boat looking thing that is the actual ticket office and gift shop for the "Mark Twain" replica steamship. I am mere steps away from the boyhood home of Samuel Clemens and most likely sitting on a spot where he played or walked or took in the sites, smells and scenes that would later lead to the nation capturing stories that would pop from his imagination for our enjoyment. Perhaps he even boarded a steamship here for the first time. I am going to believe that that is what happen for now.
To my left is the tug "Sir Randall" sitting idle waiting for a job but just one space to the left of it is the tug "Sir Randy J" diesel motors running, captain in the perch and the front end pushed up snug against the barge she is to maneuver one way or another on the river once clearance has been provided. As I sit watching and writing, simultaneously, the "Sir Randy J" fires up its diesel engines to begin to push the barge away from the dock and to maneuver it into position for its river journey today. As much as it seem pointless to me, at the same time, I am captured by the ships movement and my desire to be up in the perch with the captain as he heads out for the day or the week. Just to try it and see what life on the river is like for a tug captain. As he pushes away upstream another set of 8 huge interconnected, at least 100 foot long loaded barges are being pushed downstream by a huge white tug with many symbolic names painted on the side including the familiar ADM logo and among others, lettering that spells out Cooperative Vanguard. The "Sir Randy J" has pushed out of my sight up river from the dock and I have sadly missed this opportunity to set off with it for the day.
The river is flowing strong along the sides of the dock as she makes her way south toward the shores of New Orleans and into the Gulf of Mexico some 800 miles away by car and I am certain alot longer by meandering river.
Way off at 8 o'clock from the position I am sitting as I face the river are an organized group of young people playing mud volleyball in a tournament that is being held here on the banks of the river. It strikes me that we are drawn to these places along side the water and in the midst of doing the things of our lives we are also creating the stories of our lives in the almost unseen midst of the landscape we do them in. For this place was made magical by the likes of Mark Twain and could be again by anyone of us here today, especially the boys operating the floating gift shop or the captain of the Sir Randy J and perhaps they will, but as I look at them in their current endeavors it seems that they have other things on their minds or possibly nothing at all of any significance on their minds except to do what they believe that are charged with or are assigned to do this day.
I am thrilled to have come here and to feel my soul soar and heart expand as I take in and experience the being and the playground of Samuel Clemens and the genius that this place inspired in him. It is easy to imaging how it did just that. This town is the self proclaimed Americas Hometown and it is just that. It has this easy go feel to it and that feeling is amplified as I sit watch and listen to the sights and sounds along the river. Across the way, across the river on the eastern shore from this dock is a sandy shore on what looks like an island. I could easy create a story of my own about crossing the river on a raft, to drift away on during this small town Sunday summer morning as a second freight train slowly and mightily saunters on by, behind me. This one taking a part of my precious remaining hearing with it from every blast of its air horns.
Coal, Coal and more Coal on its way to some power plant in some large city America where we are just waking up looking in our contemporary freezing cold ice boxes (refrigerators) and turning on the morning coffee pot to enjoy while we sit and read the paper or watch the morning news or cartoons on TV depending on your preference. We who live in the east have no or very little knowledge of these goings on. The excavation, shipping and burning of coal for power for our homes and businesses is not in our consciousness any more. We hardly use the trains for personal transport and rarely, if ever, see cargo trains any more. How juxtaposed it seems to be sitting looking at the broad and mighty river and all its power and undying strength (as witnessed many times by floods in various parts of our country) and to witness perhaps millions of tons of coal slide by me, right behind me within 50 feet, in the rear view mirrors. These 120 freight car trains take four massive running diesel powered locomotives, two in the front and two pushing from the rear, to move their freight from dig site to drop off point. I am told that it takes one 120 car train full of coal to operate one Chicago electrical plant for one 24 hour period. That is a lot of need for coal.
The sun is up again as predicted (and remember it is supposed to be another 90 plus degree day today) and the breeze is blowing strongly through my open car windows (soft to the feel on my skin) and as I look around, searching for signs of the kind of change I am interested in I don't see even one solar panel or windmill in sight. Not to mention the power of the river water passing silently and forcefully before me. Some day we will get it and use what has been gifted to us silently and abundantly using very little force to maintain and have the things that we love to have available to us with out damaging the earth or the Ozone. I look forward to that day and will do my part to get us there but for now I am just going to breath in the glory of this beautiful planet.
Oh Yeah, I have to go back to the hotel and pick up the family. Thank god for cell phones!