These fire-breathing dragons once graced the tracks that bordered our property , and I was scared to death of them, seeming them daily for the first ten years of my life. They hauled iron ore south to Youngstown to feed the smelters there, and when the heavily loaded trains labored up the grade, the wheels often slipped, making the locomotives emit a terrifying sound that sent me hiding under the blankets on my bunk bed. The headlight lit up the trees bordering the tracks, producing an eerie glow through the leaves and branches. It didn't bother me a bit when diesels took over, but now I love to see the rare one that rumbles through on an excursion trip.There are few sounds are as lonely as the blast of steam whistles in the night, signaling that a monster is coming to frighten young children..