My Dad has a real soft spot for railroads. As a youth he would accompany his grandfather "Lug" Watson, a locomotive engineer, on rides on the London and Port Stanley Railway to the docks at Lake Erie. His "Uncle Bill" Watson was also an engineer in the Sarnia and Michigan area.I remember Uncle Bill very fondly. He and Aunt Betty would often drop by at my parents' home whenever shopping or the horse races or an itch for a drive would bring them to London. Uncle Bill's voice belonged in a much larger man. He was loud because of his living with my widowed and somewhat deaf great-grandmother Elizabeth Watson.
It was surprising for me to learn in later years that Bill had once had a real struggle with alcoholism. Petite and smiling Betty and Elizabeth had seen him through the ordeal. (I never once saw my Aunt Betty upset or downcast. She ran variety stores in Sarnia and would often arrive with exotic Yankee candies for Scott and me. Even widowed and taking the bus to visit us, she was all smiles.) Bill and Betty loved our little dachshund "Otto", and the dog always got first loud welcome when they arrived. Simple, resilient, hard-working, thankful people who REALLY enjoyed their years in retirement together.
I will tell a story of Lug Watson. He and an associate were crossing the townships of Elgin County. The railroad line intersected a dirt country road at a very sharp angle with the road somewhat hidden by a hedge. They did not see the little old green-grocer in his dilapidated truck approaching the intersection. CRASH! Cucumbers, lettuce, potatoes, pots and metal parts flying all over the place. The two men in the locomotive only suspected what had happened and they hit the brake. Often they had waived to this merchant in their travels. Was he alive?
Once stopped they left the cab to the sound of pathetic whimpering up front. How surprised they were to find the little Jewish merchant intact, crouched on the "cow-catcher" and hugging the head-lamp! Before long, the three of them were rolling on the ground in laughter and much relieved.
Years later in retirement my Dad visited the Railroad Museum under development in St.Thomas. Their guide told of a project to re-build one of the old L.and P.S. engines. He pointed to a black and white photo on display, and there was "Lug", standing proudly in front of his old charge. Dad now has a copy of that picture hanging in the den.
Elizabeth of Sarnia
Tiger baseball day
How she relished in the play
And the flip flop of the innings
Detroit cheered.
Pretty much in bed these days
But the pitching and the plays
Brought her back to younger times
A family reared.
There was Lug with his sweet train
Son Willy did the same
And his precious wife
Who saved him from the booze.
Betty tending corner store
With her smiles that meant much more
And retirement trips to Florida
Delightful views.
Grandson Jack at Erieau
Where the Lake breezes would blow
And his Gramma tended kitchen
Like a Queen.
And the Good Lord she extolled.
And much more now when she's old
With some quiet moments pausing
For Heaven's Dream.
(*Elizabeth Watson, my great grandmother, born in Ireland, wife of a railroad engineer. Lived to the age of 92. Mother of three...Edith, Velma and Willy. Most definitely my Dad's spiritual model and guide. And summer holiday hostess in south London ON or at the Lake. Often Jack would ride the rails with his Grandfather to Port Stanley docks and back.Elizabeth of Sarnia
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