Every time I see a train, I think about Tony Snyder. I don't ever remember seeing Tony angry. To me he had a rare set of parents and that isn't meant to take anything away from other good parents. I used to wish he was my brother. Tony was sweet, innocent and so good hearted. We could all take lessons from him in attitude alone. Tony I believe now was truly made in the image of Jesus. That's the kind of thing we don't think about as kids.
Tony was a tall and lanky kid with a smile that made you smile, no matter how bad your day was, no matter how bad you may have just been treated at home or school. Tony was a light. I wish I knew where he was now.
Tony Snyder looked like both his mom and dad. More like mom except size. Tony's mom was a very large woman, but I think many people didn't notice her size so much. Like most on the block they too were poor, but she also had those looks of love on her face. She smiled most of the time, but also had those definite worried looks when it seemed Tony or anyone had a problem. She looked so much like she cared deeply. Her brow would be furrowed, head tilt, arms would envelop a person and she would comfort them, speak softly with a slight southern accent.
Tonys' mom wore print dresses all the time, lowered neckline, puffy short sleeves with all her flesh exposed. She sure seemed happy. Flip flops on her feet, she would sashay to a neighbor and ask how they were doing that day. She had bright red hair which curved with the smiles she brought. She'd toss her hair sometimes and seem like May West was about to say, come up and see me sometime. Tony's dad seemed so opposite.
Maybe because he worked a lot. I think he drove a cab. While mom looked Irish, his dad looked Italian, so I'm not sure of his heritage, but Snyder is Irish-I think. Anyway Tony's dad was dark featured, brown eyes, black hair and half bald.
He was also shorter than his wife. But they had so much love, so much. When he walked down the street from work, under one arm he carried his steel lunch-pail and a newspaper. In the other, well he usually had a cigarette, and one behind his ear. Tony would run to meet him, smiling, kiss his dad and dad would return that kiss, hug Tony and Tony would grab and carry the lunch pail. He wore a cap, the kind that snaps in front. Tonys' dad was rarely without a cap, even in summer. If his mom was outside she would just stay on the steps and watch Tony with his dad.
She would make comments to us kids, see how much Tony loves his dad. Oh they're such a pair, she'd say. She would greet him too with such a big hug a person couldn't see his face any longer. Mrs. Snyder smothered her husband with love. When she talked about him, her eyes sparkled. She'd look up to the sky as if she was dreaming and talk about what a wonderful man her husband was, how much she loved him and the love he gave his family. Wow. I was envious. I thought how does that happen?
Tony loved too, trains as much I think, well almost, as much as his mom and dad. I never knew as a kid anyone who looked and acted like him. He had thick deep dark reddish brown hair, more red and so wavy. It was curlier in front and dripped over one eye. Watching him walk to you, first you see his smile, then his hair and finally whatever he had in his hands. Tony had his hands full most days with a new train, one he just fixed or a piece for a train board. His family and trains seemed to be his life. He made train boards for anyone who asked and that's how I got to know Tony better.
My little brother loved trains too. But I think whatever he loved was a test, to see what our father would get him, and he got anything he wanted. We were poor, but not when it came to Jimmy. So I was told to ask Tony if he would make a train board for Jimmy. You know what Tony said? With a city block wide- smile, "oh sure I will" he said. Tony grinned on and on and told me how he would do it, how big, add grass and buildings. I told him he better talk to our father first too see how much he'll pay. Tony shook that idea away tell me, he'll make it and take what ever is given! Can you imagine that?
The following Friday night Tony showed up with a four by eight piece of wood. He cut it down to be a three by eight so it would fit under a bed. Every Friday night after supper Tony stopped at our apartment at 328-59th street, His apartment building was only a few doors up. Each time he brought more pieces to make a town, adding tracks as he could never getting a dime from our father yet.
He did have one condition. He made Jimmy work with him to appreciate a train board and all the work it took. Finally the day came and it was finished.
Jimmy loaded his Lionel Train set on his new town, plugged it in and the engine took off with all the different cars and a cool looking caboose. Smoke came pouring out, a whistle blew and we looked over at Tony with his train hat on, smiling away. Jimmy held the controls with Tony guiding him. It was less than a month that Jimmy lost interest, and it took about three months for Tony to make that board. I still see his face, smiling as he built that board, wore his train hat and wore a heart of love nourished by helping another kid love trains the same way. I asked my father about paying Tony again and was told to mind my own business, so I dont know if Tony was ever paid. But I do know Tony, and Tony didn't get paid they way most of us do.
Tony, like his mom, like his dad, cold teach us all about love, happiness and what's really important in this world. It wasn't long before people on our side of the street had to move. The city was tearing down that side, so I lost contact with Tony. He did come to see us a couple of times, at our new apartment in an old brownstone a few blocks away. It was sad to see Tony leave when he did visit. Each time I worried it was the last, and then one day it was the last. Tony Snyder, where are you? Are you still happy? You were my goodness. Thank you.
