1963. For 38 years the station had been in business of moving freight and passengers from Boise, Idaho to their landing places across the United States. Trains would pull in to the station, land with cars on the depressed portion of the sidewalk made of brick, and men dressed in blue suits with blue hats would disembark from the cars, pull down wooden steps that had been stored inside by the couplers, and wait to escort the people off.
The engine would keep running, and a flurry of business and people would move in and out of the back door of the depot. The click of shoes on the bricks, would change to the loud snap with echo, that would accompany moving feet inside the terminal.
Luggage that was more than could be carried was stacked on carts and wheeled to the baggage car. The weather was cold, the atmosphere rainy, bright lights shone down on the pathways as people began to kiss goodbye, hugs were given, men in suits and overcoats, women in dresses and coats, and children with coats and caps all squeaked goodbye.
The conductor spoke in well rounded tones, loud enough for those down the hill to hear: “All Aboard” stretching the syllables out mane making the message real. Three times he would make the call, and the bell would ring, as we struggled inside, Mom and I, for our long ride across Idaho, Utah, Colorado, into Texas, to reach our destination, and ride in a car to Oklahoma.
The train pulled forward, and rocked along, gaining speed, I was five years old. Remember parts of the trip, cars we rode in, including the Club Lounge, the Dining Car, and the Dome Coach, which let a small boy see the mountains of Colorado up close, and enjoy the sights of America .
Everything was white about the station, brown thick boards on the benches for waiting, and tough bricks and tile brought it together .
58 years later, with more story to tell than the page allows, I walked again on the bricks outside, stared through glass at the now closed station, and thought of the return trip to Boise, the people and the dress, and the great emotions of seeing my Dad and brother and sister when we returned, and thought of looking down the hill at the Capital Building down below, and enjoyed Boise again. Now 96 years have passed and the station is beautiful as ever.
Ralph Peck
Photo By Ralph Peck
Union Pacific Rail Station
Boise Idaho 2021
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