Kickass, the doorstop dog, yields the floor to the keeper as he—the keeper recalls participating in a youthful Halloween prank that involved a railroad boxcar, an untold number of mischievous boys from several communities, and Highway 8 where it passes through the small town of Cameron in Barron County.
The “brains” behind the scheme will never be known, but obviously belonged to the older guys—those who shaved at least once a week. The plan called for “Soo Line,” a classmate whose father worked for the railroad, to climb up on a boxcar and release the brakes so the car could be pushed from a siding out to where it would block traffic on Highway 8.
Just how the word was spread is also not known, but around the Halloween bewitching hour, a large contingent of boys milled about in downtown Cameron and eased through the shadows down toward the RR siding.
Just how many boys it would take to move a 50-foot boxcar weighing many tons is another unknown, but there weren’t nearly enough of them in Cameron that Halloween night. After a brief shouting, disorganized effort, the scheme collapsed as the Cameron cop drove up with red light flashing and siren growling. Boys scattered like sparrows flushed off curbside horse manure; and that was the end of it.
If there is a contemporary Halloween application, Kickass suggests that the keeper’s railroad memory symbolizes the fumbling of innocents on the eve of the Nov. 3 election with more than enough “boys” to move the political boxcar out to block the indecent traffic of narcissistic sycophants.