When I was 7 and my sister was 5, my parents took us on an outing for Father’s Day. I remember driving for a little while and ending up on a train in a field. It was a perfect, beautiful day.
I was a pretty serious kid. Like when I was playing dolls it was less about “fun parties” and more about constantly checking to make sure they had a dry diaper. I had a lot of anxiety. I had already gone to counseling because if my mom was ever one minute late picking me up, I thought I was being abandoned forever and panicked. No adult ever said, “Aw she’s so cute!” It was more like, “Let’s get her an
activity”. Anyway, the windows of the train were down, and I’m sure I was feeling the wind in my bowl cut, trying to have a carefree afternoon.
All of a sudden, I saw horses running next to the train. I loved horses and it was Kentucky, so I’m sure everyone was excited. Then I noticed the men riding the horses had bandanas covering their faces. This was obviously pre corona and pre Westerns for me, so I didn’t know why they were wearing them. For a split second I thought it was AJ Mclean and got excited, but then I saw the guns. Uh oh. Guns were bad, I knew that. And The Backstreet Boys did not have them. In any sense of the word. The gunmen were yelling at the train to slow down, and I remember still being comfortable, because of course the train can outpower these horses. But then, the train started to SLOW DOWN. No no no no no, this cannot be. Why is it slowing? And then the men leapt from their horses onto the car that we were sitting in. Oh no no no, I have an aisle seat. I’m a kid! They will see me and want me for sure. I had seen Mary Kate and Ashley movies and knew that kids were good hostages.
“PUT YOUR HANDS UP!!”
Me, being great at directions, put my hands high in the sky.
My Dad and sister, also great at directions, put their hands up. My Dad’s were not very high.
Me: “Dad!! They’re getting closer! Put your hands up higher!”
This whole situation was a weird juxtaposition for a 7 year old. I did not want to be noticed, and putting hands up was usually something I did to get called on.
The Robbers: “WHO HAS MONEY!?” Oh gosh, I was pretty sure we all did.
They were kind of dilly dallying down the line. I would’ve known if they were bad actors, but these guys were pretty good. I was facing them, and was so focused on their movements I forgot about my mom sitting right across from me. She did not have her hands up.
“Mom!” I’m sure I looked petrified. ”Put your hands up, Mom!” My mom is dying laughing. Dying. “MOM!!” I hissed. “You’re gonna get us all killed!!!” Now she is falling over laughing. My Dad is cracking up. I am FURIOUS. “You guys are IDIOTS!! Stop it! Stop! We’re gonna be the first ones killed!”
The robbers were getting closer. I completely forgot about my counselor’s panic attack remedy of counting to one hundred.
As they walked past us I froze. Luckily, they continued on to the next car. I breathed a sigh of relief and then
turned to my Mom to give her the old what’s what on how to act during a robbery. I then learned what a reenactment was. THEN I learned what withholding information from your kids so you can have fun was.
I was still angry. I didn’t know there hadn’t been an attack by bandits on a train since the 1800s. I didn’t
know this was supposed to be a fun “travel back through time” type of thing. Quite frankly, I didn’t think the people who were actually robbed by bandits in the 1800s would APPRECIATE this, and I stand by this stance today.
People love reenactments, but nobody recreates anything fun. It’s always, let’s redo the civil war. Let’s watch a sad person make a candle. Also, I never know how to react as an audience. Do I pretend that this candle maker is a ghost teaching me, or just appreciate the effort it took to make this outfit? Am I supposed to pretend I’m in the 1800s? Like, am I part of it and not holding my weight in the scene?!
One of my late grandfather’s favorite people was his friend who pretended to be Abraham Lincoln. He loved this man. He told stories about him constantly. I never knew his name because he would always say, “You know my friend, the one who pretends to be Abraham Lincoln?” Now that I think about it, this man may not have been an actor.
I have a lot of questions about that day. I asked my Mom this past Mother’s Day if they discussed whether or not to tell us beforehand. She said, “Well, no. The whole point was that was the fun of it”.
That was their gift to each other that year. To make fun of their kids as they were scared to death, which honestly sounds like a great date day. And now that I’m an adult, I post a picture of them on Instagram for Parent’s Days where I look like a cute kid with no anxiousness, and that is their gift.