The sounds I remember from my youth center around the locations where I spent my very young years. While we lived in Pocatello with my Uncle Casey and Aunt Rita (my dad was in Germany in the army) I remember the train whistles all night long. Pocatello at that time was a big railroad center – much bigger than it is today. Even today train whistles have a bit of a lonely sound to me, while at the same time bringing a sense of fondness for a very close family connection at that time.
From Victor, the home of my paternal grandparents, I remember the incessant and very pleasant burble of the ditch that ran across the front of their property. That ditch is now gone, and it makes me sad to realize that so many things are so transitory. But, Victor is still the most prominent “home” in my youthful mind, even though I never lived there for very long.
Dad
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