Gypsies, Trams, and Me....

I have been wanting to tell about my love/hate relationship with tram rides. At the recent festival in our town we took tram rides through the Cemetery Theater, and there was one with historical interest throughout the whole town. I can hop aboard a tram with friends and have done so in many towns throughout the Midwest... Wind in the face, usually something special to see... trams can be perfectly wonderful....

Or... they can bring back a flashback or two.... Flash back to the year 1974... if you dare. I am a student teacher doing a fair to middlin' job at my heart's chosen profession. I decide to take a group of American Literature juniors to Hannibal, MO, and we board the Mark Twain Tram.... Yeah.. I didn't get to take them on the one drawn by draft horses.. We took the one with the new driver of the fast tractor... and SHE took us for a ride from you know where through the hairpin curves of Mark Twain Park or whatever its name is... It's on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River... and believe it or not, the driver sent one of the passengers off to HANG FROM A TREE over the river and guide her as she inched back and forth around one of those turns. We could look straight down AT the passenger and at the River many feet below... Not a tram ride to remember...

Flash forward to the year 1980. My juniors devised a tram of sorts to take passengers on a wild, covered by a tarp ride through the gym.. It was all a part of a haunted schoolhouse extravaganza.... I took the maiden voyage, a wild blind ride amid screams and flashing lights, the tram pushed by frantic eleventh graders bound for glory.. Uh... we hadn't thought the brakes through actually. The tram hit the gym wall and the hapless junior sponsor, luckily younger--- much more supple then... I hit the wall as well.. Just a few kinks to iron out on that one!

And finally, take a little trip back to approximately 1967. I'm a seventh grader, and we have taken my entire family to the Missouri State Fair. My grandfather, about 70 years old, had recently suffered a mild heart attack. My mother was manic in her denial, and it was easily 100 degrees... We parked in the far reaches of the lot, my grandfather began to cry, and my mother grabbed my shoulders and gave me a little push: YOU GO GET THAT TRAM. STOP IT FOR YOUR GRANDFATHER. I was what is known today as a compliant child... (also known today as a dumb one). I headed out in long loping steps to catch the passing tram. Driven by a couple of farm boys, the tram just cheerfully went on by me... No doubt they saw how far away my family trudged behind me... they thought they would give me the slip... I heeded my mother's words and threw myself at the back railing of the tram.... Yeah, it dragged (or drug?) me for yards and yards before I gave up and stood up in the road, blood from knees to ankles.... By that time my mother must have felt a bit crazy.. She was instantly pretty ticked at me for being so stupid... And Gramma, bless her baby soul... GRAMMA took my side! It was a great way to start a day at the Fair... Did I ever mention I HATE the State Fair? I always will.... and I think I always have... My son and parents went every year without me.. And my mother still cries every August because she cannot go... No trams for me, please....

Enjoy the chilly weather if you're nearby..... Spooky night....