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When I was a kid, the first house we lived in was on a dead end street and there were railroad tracks at the end. We knew the times of day when the train would come rumbling by. We'd wave to the conductor, who was the dad of another kid in the neighborhood. Years later, after we've moved away, that kid committed suicide. Sometimes when I watch a train go by, I think about him and his dad and the life that never got to go very far down the tracks.