“Ride the train, ride the train, anywhere I’m going I ride trains; sleepin’ in a boxcar in the rain, ride the train, ride the train.” That is the refrain of a song by southern rock group Alabama, just one of many American songs where trains play an integral part. I am a fan of rail travel, though my experiences are fewer than I would like, and as a member of the planning commission, I’ve many times seen the plans for the return of passenger service to King City. I really can’t say that I will avail myself of a train ride from here to any destination north or south for the same reason; to wax facetious, I don’t buy bananas that are too green. But I can recall three times I have been a passenger on trains that stopped at the Southern Pacific station adjacent to First Street.
The first two were for my birthdays, though I can’t recall exactly whether the sixth and seventh or seventh and eighth, when my party attendees were carpooled to Soledad where we boarded then detrained in KC after less than 30 minutes, though at the time it seemed much longer. Upon arrival here in town, we proceeded to the old USO building on Vanderhurst back when it was a roller-skating rink. The next year we repeated the trip. What made those two trips memorable beyond the ride on a train was my friend George fell while skating and broke his arm both years.
Now, granted those two rides don’t jibe with the lyrics I used above because they are the sentiments of the singer who just happens to be a hobo. My generation is probably the last to know the term hobo; a claim I make because I can recall as a very young boy sitting in the car at the rail crossing at Elm Avenue and Metz Road (which was then a couple of hundred yards north of the current crossing and had only a sign with a red light and ringing bell, no cross bars dropped) when a man appeared standing next to the partially open door of a boxcar. For just a fleeting moment our eyes met; I was only a lad and didn’t know why but his look gave me an odd feeling. But I digress.
The third time I boarded a train at the depot I did so along with many of my fellow KCHS 1970 graduating class. After a year of fundraising, we were the first class to attend Disneyland’s annual Grad Nite; a night filled with seniors from a multitude of high schools throughout the state. Quite an experience for a bunch of small-town teens. While some of us had been to the Magical Kingdom before, this time we were friends and surrounded by hundreds of others in our age group so it was a whole different atmosphere than a park filled with parents and little kids.
Because there was so much to do, so much ground to cover, I don’t recall seeing all the entertainment line-up of the evening, but I do remember bits and pieces. And the groups and solo artists chosen were not unknown to us, most were well-known. I went online and found the program for that year that lists The Raiders featuring Paul Revere and Mark Lindsay, The Friends of Distinction, Billy Joe Royal, Sunday’s Child and Jackie De Shannon. Those were the headliners and there were others not as well known, one of which we KCHS grads knew almost personally. I’ll get to that.
The moments that stick out most in my mind today are fond recollections of a one-in-a-lifetime teen event. When listening to Billy Joe Royal of “Down in the Boondocks” fame, he asked a few girls to stand up in front of the crowd, then asked some guys to stand behind them and join him in singing the well-known Temptations hit “My Girl.” I was one of the guys and classmate Katherine, aka Trink, was one of the girls. Kind of a big deal to stand that close to someone we only knew from TV music shows like “American Bandstand” or “Hullabaloo.” Because at the time we graduated there were only two Black students in our school, siblings James and Janie, most of us had never had much contact with large numbers of Blacks, the exception was the annual KCHS Invitational Track Meet when schools from the Bay Area came to town.
I recall sitting on some low bleachers waiting for the group Friends of Distinction to come on stage. I wasn’t a big fan, didn’t know all their music, but in the Ziegfeld Follies earlier that year the ensemble cast sang their hit “Age of Aquarius” as opening number (choreographed by Jan, now Mrs. H of ballet renown), so I wanted to hear them do at least that number. As the bleachers filled it became apparent that we few whites would soon be surrounded by a sea of teens we knew little about. I admit I was nervous at the stares we got, but the music soon quelled that and for a few minutes we all enjoyed a very fine group of singers do what they did best.
I will spend little time on Jackie DeShannon because she was so beautiful I wouldn’t do her justice, and when she sang her big hit “What the World Needs Now (Is Love Sweet Love),” I wanted to be the recipient of that love; a true teen fantasy right before my eyes.
Oh, that one band I mentioned. A couple of us walked into Tomorrowland just as a band was doing their last song, after which they sank below the cement on a removable stage; it was “Dust.” They had played our Homecoming Dance only a few months before. What were the chances? More on trains in a future column.
Take care. Peace.
