Letters by Train
Newcastle is on the train route. Every day, old friends pass through. Many of them get a thrill of nostalgia when they cross the Tyne gorge, over the bridges that link Gateshead and Newcastle. Some of them think of me, as a part of their city. And for a few of them, I am thinking about them when they go past. The following fragment of a letter was written when one such person was about to pass.
For more about the freethinking quayside radical Thomas Spence, look here. For more about ‘Wor Diary’, look here. Apologies for spelling ‘millionaire’ wrong, but it was in a letter, so it’s okay. And to finish the story, I did go to the station. I did meet the train, and I did hand over the letter. The first snow of the year started falling as the train pulled up, and my eyes were welling up when I left the station.