As a youngster growing up, my father, John James Weslaski, was an engineer for the Green Bay and Western Railroad. I cherish the moments of “riding the rail” in the locomotive with my dad at the helm. He was often “on the road,” spending nights in fleabag hotels away from home somewhere between Green Bay and Winona, Minnesota. But, when he arrived home, he always made time for me.
Published on October 15, 2014