The house I grew up in had train tracks that ran through the backyard. As a parent, the thought of that stresses me out to no end. Apparently my parents were numbed to the idea since they moved in before I was born. I'm sure it helped that they taught us to respect the trains.
When Ariel and I were little, we used to run into the backyard when a train stormed through and scream at the top of our lungs. The rumble of the train would drown out our screams and it was exhilarating. No one ever told us to be quiet when we screamed as a train passed. We could be as loud as we wanted without any consequences. If we were feeling extra zealous, we would run to the edge of the hill that the tracks stood on and make a motion with our hand like you do to make a semi driver honk his horn. Most of the time, the train honked back. Excellent memory.
I like to think Aiden's getting a little taste of that every time I vacuum.