The alarm sounded at 4 am. Minutes later, I was being dragged from bed and dressed. My sleep-clogged eyes blinked trying to adjust to the light. I struggled to remember why I was awake when it was dark outside. I finally remembered the excitement of knowing I would be doing something different when morning came. I’d never ridden a train before, and I thought of it as my first great adventure. I'd looked forward to it for days, but now it hurt to be awake. My body was crying out for more sleep.
"Be still, Honey! Let Daddy get your shoes on. You can go back to sleep on the train."
My mother and I were leaving our little town of Newton in east-central Mississippi and heading for Texas, so she could try to talk her wayward brother out of divorcing his wife for another woman. Divorce was a disgrace in the 40's, and Mother was sure Newman would listen to common sense. Surely, he wouldn’t want to embarrass the family.
Excitement was starting to build again as the big engine pulled into the station with a bellow which all but drowned out the voices around me. The black smoke was barely visible in the darkness of pre-dawn. The smell of burning charcoal mixed with damp night air invaded my nostrils.
Daddy kissed us goodbye, before we made our way through the cars of the train, along with a small group of other boarders. I shivered from the anticipation of the adventure. We walked through several cars until Mother found us a seat. She settled me down and told me to put my head in her lap. She threw a shawl around my bare legs.
"Now you try to get some sleep. We've got a long day ahead of us."
Sleep? How was that possible? I was awake now. I wanted to see, feel, and hear everything. At age six, I felt as though I'd never been anywhere. I'd been less than a year old when Dad had taken us to Texas the first time, when he was considering finding work there. We lived far enough out from town that nothing exciting ever happened other than a new calf being born. It was a whole different world out there, and I wanted to be a part of it.
The train shuddered, whistled and started up with a jerk. Obediently, I tried to close my eyes, but sleep escaped me. Even the train's rocking motion and the rumble of the wheels weren't successful in benumbing my senses. I was aware when someone came through asking for tickets, but I tried to fake being asleep, while Mother fished in her purse for our tickets.
I managed to fool her into thinking I was sleeping for about forty minutes, until a big man in a blue uniform came bellowing through the car, shouting out the first station stop. By the third stop, I was wide awake and wanting to see what place might have such an unusual name, “Pee la hatch ee! Pee la hatch ee!”
Pelahatchie, Mississippi was a small, but historic, town east of Jackson. The name, in Choctaw, meant crooked creek. It had been around since the beginning of the state. It was the site of an Indian treaty signing, where the Choctaw nation had ceded over five and a half million acres of their territory to the government. I’m not sure what they got in return. They likely got cheated. Of course, I wasn’t aware of any of this, and I had never heard of this place before. It was a funny word which I would repeat when telling others of my trip.
I sat up abruptly and looked out the window. Pelahatchie didn’t look so impressive. The first light of dawn had turned the sky pink. I saw a few people on the platform of a small shack-like building waiting to board. No amount of persuading on Mom's part was successful in getting me to lie down again. She gave up trying.
Someone pushed a cart through selling breakfast items, and Mom purchased milk and a sweet roll for me. For hours, I peered out the window until my eyes ached from staring at the passing scenery. The train stopped often. The big buildings we sometimes passed filled me with awe. It was May, but in Mississippi, where temperatures were already in the nineties, air-conditioning was almost unheard of, and our train certainly didn’t have one. Our car felt humid and stuffy in spite of the open windows. Occasional puffs of black smoke drifted through the windows, causing my eyes to burn and my skin to feel gritty.
The train stopped at every little town along the route. Some didn’t even have a depot. Instead, there was a raised platform and a long bench beside the track. Passengers got on and off, and our almost empty car began to fill. Sometimes people in the other seats would strike up a conversation with Mother and would ask me if I was enjoying riding on a train. I didn’t mind talking to the strangers, because it broke up some of the monotony which was starting to set in.
There were still a lot of soldiers around us. Even back in Newton, we saw them often. The world, at this time, was in the next to the final year of World War II. The US had been involved in the war for two and a half years since the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. Mississippi had three military training bases and it wasn't unusual to see a long convoy of soldiers being transported along the highways. The boys in army fatigues would wave at passing cars and kids would always wave back. I usually did as well.
Around mid-morning, the train stopped in Jackson. It had a larger station, and its platform was teaming with soldiers. These were men who had likely been on leave and visiting their families. Now, they were returning to their bases. They were a noisy and disorderly group of men. A few of them were kissing their wife or girlfriend goodbye.
We watched as a Military Police took a bottle of liquor from a soldier. He slammed it against a post breaking it and letting the liquid pour onto the ground. He seemed angry as he picked up the glass and tossed it into the trash. He shoved the soldier around roughly and said something we couldn’t hear.
Before the train pulled away, I heard the conductor shouting, "All aboard" and the cars began filling with soldiers looking for seats. The MP got on along with the group, trying to maintain some order. Many of the soldiers were rowdy, and the unmistakable smell of whiskey invaded our car. I recognized the same odor Mom’s Texas brothers often had when they visited. One of the soldiers staggered and almost fell on top of us. Mother whispered she thought they were drunk. I could have told her that.
At lunchtime, we didn’t go to the dining car. Mother bought me a cheese sandwich and some milk from a guy who walked around selling food. She didn’t eat anything. I think she was dieting.
As the day wore on, I began to tire and started asking how much longer. I was anxious to see my cousins, but Mother said it would be after dark before we arrived. About 2 p.m., we had an hour layover in Louisiana. Mother decided we would walk to a nearby shopping area. She wanted to clean me up and buy me some new shoes. I was excited because Shreveport, Louisiana seemed like a huge city to me. We had to walk a couple of blocks to find a department store which sold shoes. Mom finally settled on a pair of sandals. When she looked at the time, she panicked.
“Come on, Beth, we have to get out of here. We are going to have to run as fast as we can. I didn’t realize it was this late. Hold on to my hand and don’t let go. We can’t miss our train.” We were both out of breath when we reached the station. The last boarding call had already been made. This time we had to change to a different car in order to find seats.
Our seats faced each other, and Mother persuaded me to lie on the one across from her, hoping I'd be able to get a nap. By evening, the train became very crowded. Two soldiers got on and asked if they could sit by us. Almost immediately, they started a conversation. The one by me put his arm around me and called me his girlfriend. I thought he was handsome and managed to develop my first crush on an older guy within minutes.
Mother was having problems with the other one, who was attempting to hold her hand. She started trying to talk to him about God. He was pretending to be interested, but he kept trying to get his arm around her. She ended up holding on to both of his hands to keep them from being all over her. I don’t think she knew what else to do. She looked really nervous.
Both of the soldiers smelled of liquor. Once again, it was the same odor, I often smelled when one of mother's brothers insisted on kissing me. No one drank in our family but I was getting good at recognizing it. The cute guy sitting with me helped make the time seem to go by faster by singing silly songs and asking me knock-knock jokes.
I was still awake at eleven that night when we finally arrived at our destination. Aunt Aline was there to meet us. She picked up our luggage and whisked us off to her house. In almost no time, she had us settled for the night. She put me in the top of a bunk bed over my cousin, Dave. He was already sound asleep. It had been a very long day. I drifted off to sleep staring at a glow-in-the-dark picture of a cow jumping over the moon.
