Recalling a mysterious figure on a freight train and an unforgettable Halloween

Way back when, on a dreary, drizzly near-bedtime October night before Halloween, my assigned chore was raking and bagging the soggy backyard leaves. Call it what you will —luck, fate, kismet, destiny or magic — in the distance a great horn blast announced the approaching nightly 9:10 freight train into the shallow dell behind our house on Xerxes Avenue, a most welcome sound for us kids who lived in this secure but nevertheless humdrum and insulated neighborhood. The freight train’s nightly ritual of arrival, passing and vanishing created a treasure trove for our fantasies, wishful thinkings, what-ifs (and a few pranks for which we were never caught). But on this night, well, there was something ominous about a train — in the dark — at Halloween time.Sometimes it seemed to us like “the 9:10” was personified and had a mind of its own. Who knows why, but on this night, out of the blue, she slowed to a creaky, creepy-sounding dead stop right below our backyard. In front of me was a wide