When I was a child, I knew a man named Johnny Blidburgh. In the mid-1960s, he was the track patrolman on the Curry to Gold Creek section. He lived at Curry House, which was where the freight crews would stop for dinner or to overnight when they went dead. (“Going dead” means that the worker … Continue reading Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ye…
Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ye…
