In Between the Rails

It was long noted among railroaders that Ellisville was the home of Black Squirrels, Fat Girls, and Hundred-Dollar Cars. The Black Squirrels were a compliment of God, and were really beautiful animals, having a jet-black sheen to their coats in the sunshine. They were the counterparts of the famous White Squirrels of Olney, Illinois. Phil once had a conversation with his buddy, McGee Brown, about the squirrels. McGee had been on the road for quite a while now. "Hey Brownie." Phil began to ask, "Do you suppose if the Black Squirrels of Ellisville were introduced into the White Squirrels of Olney, Illinois, that their populations would mix?" Brownie thought quietly for a few seconds, and a grin began to form on his handsome face. "You mean, would there be a squirrel version of Mariah Carey and Halle Barry? I don't know Phil, but I bet the male squirrels of either group would hope so." The Fat Girls were also an integral part of the landscape, and could frequently be seen grazing at the local Ellisville lounges. It did seem that there was an overabundance of women with an overabundance of body blubber. "Perhaps it was diet," Phil thought at one time, but later changed the thought to, "It IS diet." The locals, men and women both, ate large amounts of biscuits and gravy, butter, chicken fried steaks, and other fried fatty foods. In essence, they ate themselves into land beasts. The hundred-dollar cars came into existence because of a government law enacted in the late 70's, which made it unlawful for railroads to build housing for their crews less than one-and-one-half miles from a railroad depot, where switching operations occurred. So now there was a new dormitory built almost exactly one-and-one-half miles from the depot. Railroaders permanently assigned to the road were understandably not content to wait for one of the two jitneys used for crew movement. They were never available, anyway. So they bought cheap cars in Ellisville, for the sole purpose of going to and from the dorm. It also allowed them to eat when they wanted to, the majority of the eating establishments being closer to the railroad in downtown Ellisville. Some of these cars were so visually painful, they were hysterical. They were either wrecked, or rusted, or both, and a few of them were rusted out so badly, one could see the street through the floorboards. This earned them the name of "Fred Flintstone Cars," like you could stick your feet through the floorboards, and run.