When the train left, the fun paled
For a small town boy in the mid-1930s, the appearance of the Central of Georgia’s mixed train on Saturday morning was the biggest event of the best day of the week
An alligator crosshead moving back and forth on its greased guides to the dictates of a hot piston rod; the hurried, hollow sighs up the stack as a pair of air pumps breathe life back into the train line; coupled, flanged driving wheels with an overl...