The Coolest Neighbor A Boy Could Want
Author: Ken Homer Issue: 2024-09-04
The Coolest Neighbor A Boy Could Want
by Ken Homer
Both my parents worked fulltime. That presented them with a bit of a problem. My kindergarten let out three hours before either of my elder sisters got home. That’s a long time for a five-year-old to be by himself. Many were the days when I was left alone at home.
Sometimes, I could go next door to the neighbors. Mr. and Mrs. Landis were retired and home all the time. On the days when I could visit, I’d always find Mrs. Landis propped up in her hospital bed, which seemed to me to take up the whole living room. She was a nice woman who had some kind of lung problem. She was usually on oxygen when I was there. But she always had Oreos and milk for me.
I liked Mrs. Landis but I loved Mr. Landis. I think he had been an electrical engineer. He was good natured and kind and patient. He had an astounding collection of model trains. His entire basement was filled to overflowing with model trains. There were multiple sizes of tracks and trains. For any train hobbyists who might be reading this, his collection included HO-, S- and O-scale trains. The landscapes had mountains with tunnels. Fuzzy green grass and painted lakes and ponds. There were villages with buildings and people. Sheep and cattle dotted the green hills of the model landscape. Model cars perched on bridges and RR crossings had working gates that went up and down with lights that flashed
and bells that sounded as the train approached. I think there were four or five big transformers. The engines had working whistles. It was the coolest thing I’d ever seen!
When I arrived, I’d greet Mrs. Landis and then Mr. Landis and I would go down in his basement. He’d put an engineer’s cap on my head – that made me feel important. He taught me how to work the transformers. “Careful now,” he’d say “not too much power. Need to go slow around the curves” He had a supply of smoke pellets, and he’d give me some to
put into one or more of the stacks of the engines. Within a few minutes white smoke would billow out and trail behind as the train sped along around the track. For a kid of five, it was paradise and Mr. Landis was a godsend. I was a curious kid, and he patiently answered all my questions.
Sadly, when we moved away, I lost touch with them. My correspondence skills were pretty rudimentary at six. As I look back on my life, I’m tremendously grateful for their kind attention and those afternoons with the trains.
Ken Homer • February 2024
Related: