There may be a better word than whistle, but you get the idea. It starts soft and builds to a crescendo as the air pressure builds slightly and lights...appear in the distance. Then the train emerges in a waft of soot particles and worrying smells as the brakes kick in. Ten seconds later the doors open and dozens, if not hundreds of people spill out.Except not now. There was a train, but it didn’t stop. The driver just pressed his airhorn and with a mighty POOOOOOOWAAAAAARP! the thing just. . when I heard a gruff voice shout, "Hey, you!"I looked around and spotted a woman built like an army sergeant standing on the porch of a house I was nearly past. It was the house where Monica Schowinski lived, although I had never been in it."Are you speaking to me?" I asked."Yes, you. Come here!" she replied authoritatively. I retraced my steps and turned up her walk, wondering why she would be calling me.When I stopped at the base of her stoop, she beckoned me up and asked, "Are you Kevin. More

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