We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
There is so much in this picture: the boy looking expectantly in the direction of the train coming; the father looking down the direction his son will go; the trunk and suitcase with school sticker; the books his mother probably used when she went to teacher's college; the dog resting his head on the boy's knee; the red flag to stop the train. Rockwell could tell a whole story in one picture.
Also, the boy holding the lunch his mother made him; the name of the father's ranch on the side of the truck: faded and melting away; and the boy in a suit and tie to travel - the way people used to dress nicely when they went on a trip. (The first time I flew on a plane, I wore a Sunday dress, shoes, white gloves and my Easter hat. The last time I flew to Dallas, I swear a guy on the plane was in his pajamas.)
Donny "The Bear Jew" Donowitz
I know how the father felt.
I raised my sons alone as their mother died when they were little. My youngest, after he ran down the driveway to get on the bus for school, would stop, turn around and give me a little wave - every single morning.
The last time he deployed and started to board his ship, at the top of the brow, he turned and gave me that same little wave.
Even tho it was the '60's. I was that kid and that was my dad. I never really went back...but to visit. The last time was this March to sit by his bedside as he passed. 93 and strong to his last breath.