This morning, very early I heard one of my favorite sounds, the whistle of a train. What memories it calls to me from over the years.

My hometown La Junta was a Santa Fe Railroad town. Both of my grandfathers were railroad men and I grew up with a fondness for those fascinating cars that, hooked together, carried people to the far off land of their dreams. My grandparents had a pass to ride free on the Santa Fe Railroad so they came to visit us each year when we lived in California.

My very first train ride was in Washington State. It was a time of firsts - first train ride and first church camp meeting. The haunting sound of a whistle brings back pleasant recollections of that early dawn journey to a retreat where we ate, worshipped and slept in tents.

I would later ride the train many times in High School from my sister's house in Iowa to my parents' home in La Junta. Sometimes my sister and nephew Jimmy were with me. The world was special seen through his two-year-old eyes. Other times I traveled by myself, feeling very much like an adult and I treasured every precious moment.

My parents moved many times over the years so I was an experienced traveler from early childhood, but riding in an automobile was much more confining than by train. Such luxury trains afforded, a comfortable seat, splendid scenery out of the window, a cozy lounge that had a toilet, sink and a sofa.

At the end of each coach was a water fountain. When I got tired I could walk to the lounge or get a drink of water.

I only had money enough for a coach ticket so I slept in the seat and when my legs felt cramped I went to the ladies lounge and stretched out. I thought those wonderful private rooms with real beds must be very nice. Many years later I traveled with my own young grandson on a train and we had one of those wonderful little rooms. I discovered that I didn't sleep any better in those bunks than I did as a teenager in the lean-back seats. Part of the enchantment in that Grandma-Grandson train ride was lost when a train was derailed on the tracks and we were put out of our room at 5 a.m., without any coffee. We boarded a bus and it was 10:00 a.m. before we stopped for breakfast. By that time I felt as if I was in the desert with nothing to drink, not even water.

Lunch on a train when I was a teenager was also a luxury I couldn't afford so I carried a sack lunch. It tasted as good as the luxurious meals served in the dining car that my grandson and I ate many years later.

I also had a distant cousin in La Junta who worked on the railroad. Ralph was a skinny Santa Claus type, a likable person with a hearty laugh and a bag full of good stories. Ralph and Lillian had two sons and two daughters.

One day the Ralph Miller family took a vacation on the train. The day was hot and Mom declared that she was thirsty. Ralph's youngest son, six-year-old Kenny was at that eager-to-please age.

"I'll get you a drink," Kenny told Mom. Walking on a swaying train can be tricky, but Kenny managed to get to the fountain and bring Mom a nice cool drink of water in a paper cup without dripping it down the neck of the other passengers. He was proud of himself and anxious to be of service to the rest of the family so one by one they took advantage and the little boy ran back and forth to the water fountain, bringing cups of cool drinks of water to his Dad, sisters and older brother. What a great little helper he was.

A short time later Ralph decided to take a stroll down the aisle of the train. Kenny went with him. When he came to the water fountain Ralph was startled to see that the paper cup dispenser was placed at adult level, a six-year-old could never reach them.

"Kenny." Ralph had a sinking feeling as he looked at his young helper. "Where did you get the cups for the water you brought us?"

"Oh," the cheerful little boy replied. "I couldn't reach those up there, so I used the ones in that holder." He pointed to the trash bin. It was filled with paper cups.

Once he got over the shock, Ralph's Santa Claus sense of humor took over and mirth lit up his face.

"That's a good idea," he laughed as he tucked the incident into his bag of stories. He could hardly wait to tell the others.