Essays

Night Trains

In the Lowcountry, trains frequently pass by in the night, unseen but not unnoticed.

Awakening to their distant rumble, I guess the train’s weight and speed by the tone of its vibrations on the track.

Freight trains have a deep baritone. Their vibrations are slower. By the time they pass, I am asleep again.

Passenger trains have a higher pitch and a rapid clatter. They are gone almost before I realize they have come. The sound is comforting, but that was not always the case.

When I lived in Columbia, I would startle awake at 3:30 a.m. to the roar of metal on metal and the insistent howl of a train whistle.

The first night I heard it, I rolled out of bed and hit the floor, convinced that a jet was landing on our street.

By the time we moved a year later, the 3:30 a.m. train had become a comforting touchstone, marking the mid-point of my night’s sleep.

Trains seem to pass earlier here. I don’t always hear them. But when I do, I enjoy the comfort of their night noise before dropping back to sleep.

JOCELYN CHABOT

Charleston