A introduction to High Iron

Hello Dear Readers, I must start off by thanking many people for this story, if it wasn't for my true friends and loyal readers. I never would have started this tale of Railroading and love between two boys that is stronger than the steel rails upon which most of this story takes place, in fact this introduction is newer than the first 9 chapters of the story the other night Justin Case and I were chatting and I happened to be working on chapter 10 of this story when he mentioned I should add it to his pages my other infamous work NO GREATER LOVE is already there, well this morning I thought about it and looked at the opening chapter well alast no introduction. Some said after No Greater Love this story didn't need one I say Bullshit. Once I start writing like John Jakes ok maybe then my stories won't need them :-) Well I learned that Justin has removed his pages so I decided not to waste this and added it to my own.

    High Iron, begins in 1930 in New Orleans, during the Great Depression. The reason for the time period is I love history and this time period has always fancinated me and the fact this was the hayday of American Railroading Big Steam engines fast freights and passenger trains and danger before many of the things us railroaders today take forgranted and I am one. We don't worry much about storms or bad weather we just instantly pull up a weather map and plan a head or worry some station agent has fallen asleep and not lit the signals providing the engineer a margin of safety. I will forever look up to my great grandfather and many others that I have had the chance to know or learn of my great grandfather for one who for many years rode the branch lines of the Mississippi delta in a wooden caboose facing fire, floods and derailments to make sure the frieght arrived on time and for the survival of the Yazoo and Mississippi Valley Railroad, that for many years now has been part of the Illinois Central well in fact when the YM&V was charted it was with the blessings of the ICRR and of the State of Mississippi to build a line 50 miles in lenth from Jackson to Yazoo City in 1876. Well by 1930 through aggressive building and mergers the YM&V streached from Memphis, TN to New Orleans, LA, criss crossing the state with the lines of the ICRR like a giant iron spider web of main lines and feeders, railroads were king and the proud Mississippi Riverboats were a dying breed.

    This story is dedicated to one very special boy. I had the honor to meet and to become friends with just for a short time a boy of 12 named Jamie. The events that led me down the path of meeting him was weird if anything but normal.  I believe the words from the end of chapter 3 best explains it and sums it up so from the end notes of chapter 3 here is Jamie's story and why he is special in my heart.

This chapter is dedicated to my friend Jamie, who on a hot autumn night took
a ride with me on the HIGH IRON of my line. We did not plan it, nor did he
buy a ticket. It started with a plea for help and a runaway boy of 12. The
boy was Jamie. As I raced down the rails, looking for this young boy, I did
not know the full reasons of why he had left his home. I would learn later
about the abusive father that had beat both his wife and son after losing
his job. The boy ran and I guess you could say I followed and I found him
headed west toward the Big Black River bridge. There were many questions
racing through my mind as the cool night air blew in my face. I saw the
answers to some of my questions when I first spotted him standing beside
the track. I could do only one thing - I hugged him and brought him home.
He told me things I will never forget as long as I live. As the weeks
passed, I took a trip to Ohio and later on I found that my little friend was
sent to a foster home in south Mississippi. From there he escaped once
again, headed north along the HIGH IRON. Only this time I was not there to
find him or save him. I got a call following the search for the boy. They
found him dead in a river not far from a railroad bridge in south MS. There
will be questions I ask myself now and for the rest of my life but it really
boils down to one, "WHY, my friend, WHY?"

Jamie, this one is for you. I saw friendship in your soul, I saw dreams in
your eyes, but when I search myself, I will always and forever ask why? I
know you're in a happy, better place now. Flying free with the angels.
Looking down upon me. When I look up in the skies as I ride the railroad of
life, I hope you're watching out for me. There are many questions I will
never know the answers to. But, my friends, never give up hope. And this
is a plea for help. If you need me, please E-Mail me. If I can help, I will.
But never, never ever give up hope. Because no matter who you are, where
you are, someone loves you.

So, I often wonder, why Jamie thought suicide and death was his only answer and at times to be honest I wonder if it is my only answer, when deppression takes over my own life. Enough of my ramblings I hope you enjoy my adventure into the world of the past in HIGH IRON. Jamie this one is for you my dear angel

I must personally thank, Chris, Peter, Willy B, Geoff, John and Michael in Jolly ole England. Ed I must thank thee to for all the editing you have done on my stories. Thanks a billion my friend.

A very special thankyou to my lil bro Drew, if it wasn't for you some of these past nights, I often wonder if I would still be drawing breath into my lungs. Thank you for listening to the nights I was in so much darkness that the most powerful headlamps could not light my path.

Sincerely,

Stephen W.