The Little Train That Could Not Die: The Stories of the Cumbres & Toltec Scenic Railroad and Engine 463 (Paperback) (ISBN-13: 9781453733134)

The writing of this book has been a 15 year process with two other publications preceding this one. It took a life changing event and running my own newspaper for more than a year to help me understand what the real story was about. The first publication, "The Story of the Cumbres and Toltec Railroad and Engine 463" was a collaborative effort between my father and me. After his death in 1998, it took another few years before I got the courage to republish it under the title of "The Little Train that Would Not Die". In 2007 that book won a Pinnacle Award, but I knew it wasn't finished. That same year I went through some major life changes and started a weekly newspaper on the eastern plains of Colorado, The High Plains View. As I covered the stories and lives of the people on the windswept prairies of Colorado, I began to understand what the real heart of this story was. The completion of this third publication has been my spirit quest. It has dug deep within my heart, touching every part of my life. Sometimes I have felt such pain and other times immense joy. I felt as though I have lived every moment again. But like the men whose lives I tell about, I had to find the drum beat of my heart. When my first son, Tim, was born, the first book my dad ever gave him was "The Little Engine That Could". I wish I could say that my life was like a fairy tale, where all the dreams come true, but in reality it is everything I need. Sometimes dreams turn to dust, and then when all seems lost, out of those ashes of failure arises something so beautiful. And just as the men found in this story, whether times are good or bad, it is the dreams and hopes that carry us through. Our country has never been perfect, but it was established on that fact that men can dream and within that framework we have the opportunity to grab our destiny and follow our hearts wherever life leads. Today I live in northern New Mexico. At night I watch the sun set on the Sangre de Cristo Mountains as the buffalo graze in a nearby pasture. A lone great horned owl calls mournfully for his mate that was recently killed on the highway and the wild geese call over head. Occasionally, an eagle flies overhead as the sun rises across the clear blue western skies, during those moments I feel the blessing of Mother Earth and Father Sky and I find the peace within the lifetimes. The time of man is not over, like the little train that could not die, it is just beginning.