My friend Joe was assertively driving me on a narrow rural Pennsylvania Road toward the little township called Creekside where he grew up. In addition to the endlessly entertaining tour of a town Joe knows like the back of his hand, we were waylaid during our journey by the sights and sounds of an active train crossing. While my companions said, “darn,” annoyed at the delay, I, having been a Leinbach for 26 years, simultaneously shouted “Yay!” And clapped with glee. I know good luck will befall me if a train crosses my path. All I could think was how beautiful Pennsylvania must be by train.
Joanie On My Mind 