The Arrogance of Youth

Some young people can be quite arrogant, can't they? I remember feeling pretty smug back in the days when I was still omniscient. Arrogance, youthful arrogance, is born I think, of a sense of one's own immortality. And young people, especially boys, are quite convinced they are immortal, invulnerable, "Ten Feet Tall and Bulletproof" to quote country singer Travis Tritt. That's why armies find young men so valuable, although dispensable.

I was at work this afternoon, at the throttle of a train loaded with homebound commuters, when I rounded a curve to find two young men strolling along between the rails. They had their backs to us and were still some distance away when I rang the bell. As we closed the distance at 60 mph, I sounded the whistle. They turned and regarded our train as though they hadn't a care in the world. I blew the whistle again. We were perhaps a quarter mile from them. Maybe fifteen seconds at our current speed.

There are three main line tracks at that location. Our train occupied the middle track, as did the trespassing teens. I blew the whistle again. Train whistles are LOUD, Ms J. REALLY LOUD. And the headlight is very bright. But as I said, they were moving in the same direction as our train.

"Look at these two, will ya?" I said to my mate who was staring at them and shaking his head.

"Idiots," was his response. "Helluva place for an afternoon stroll."

Kevin looked in the mirror mounted outside his window and spoke with more urgency.

"I hope they don't step over onto Track One. Here comes 48 and he's haulin' ass."

Number 48 is a daily passenger train that runs from Toronto to Montreal. That train travels at 100 mph.

"Is he getting close?" I asked.

"Naw. He's still back a ways. I can see his headlight, though."

I pressed the yellow horn button again and held it this time. The horn sounded long and loud. I wanted these kids to get off the tracks. And stay off them. Why do people insist on using railway tracks as a pedestrian thoroughfare?

The two stepped out of our path and of course, onto Track One into the path of 48. I grabbed the radio handset.

"VIA 48, this is GO 414. Over."

No response. I tried again.

"VIA 48, this is GO 414. Over."

And finally they answered.

"48 here. Go ahead 414."

I warned them to watch out for trespassers and gave them the exact location.

As we flashed past these unconcerned kids, horn blaring a deafening warning, they both turned toward us and extended their arms and displayed the one-finger salute. Then they calmly disappeared into the woods. At least they were safe

Think of it, Ms J. We encounter trespassers who are in imminent danger of being struck by not one, but two speeding trains. We warn them, possibly saving their Lives, and how do they respond? By telling us to go screw ourselves!

Sometimes I wonder how we ever lived through those self-important teen years. It's amazing any of us survived!

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