I almost made it.

I could have hit the gas and sped through the crossing, but I knew that if I did there was always a chance I didn’t make it in time.

The locomotive was barreling down the tracks, as fast as a locomotive can barrel, and instead of living dangerously, I decided I would bide my time waiting at the crossing.

To our readers in Central City and Ravenna, writing about waiting for a train s…