Letters
The whistle is not a nuisance. It is a clock.
June Hart of Summit Street, on the people who moved here for the quiet and then met the railroad.
I have lived on Summit Street long enough to tell a through freight from a local by the way the house answers. The Nickel Plate’s heirs still run the line. The whistle still does what a watchman used to do with his arms at Broadway: it tells you the town is a town with tracks in it.
A person will move to New Haven for the brick and the trees and then circulate a complaint about the horn. I have signed nothing. The railroad is older than the complaint. The canal was older than the railroad. The name on the plat, taken from Connecticut in 1839, is older than all of us on this block.
If it wakes you, you live in a railroad town. That was in the name of the place, if not in the fine print.