thinking about the old days

February 14th, 2017

Tiburon’s trestle

Hobos sat on railroad flat cars and waved as we stood on the picnic table in our backyard and waved back.  Trains rolled through both tunnels, two miles south to Tiburon.  Tiburon Boulevard’s forty-foot trestle was close to the south tunnel, and parents had forbidden us to to cross it. Continue reading “thinking about the old days” »

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