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Last week, I learned from online reports that the nearly century-old Xunlimen Railway Station in Hankou, Hubei province, had been demolished for commercial development. The news saddened me, for I spent my childhood in its vicinity. During the 1950s and 1960s, my family lived in Xunlimen, after which the primary school I attended was also named. Every day, I passed by the railway station on my way to school and back home. The station was used for goods, not passengers, and I often slipped into it after school to play. I loved seeing the railway staff in impressive uniforms, some of who were neighbors, waving red and green pennants to usher trains in and out of the station. The porters instilled a sense of awe in me as beads of perspiration covered their muscular bodies while they carried goods on gangplanks from the wagons to the platforms. I often peeped through gaps in large crates trying to see what was inside. Once I saw a giraffe in a flatcar eating the leaves of a tree off the tracks. More often, I tried to catch crickets from within the cracks in the platform or gleaned soybeans that had dropped from torn or loose sacks. Back home, my grandmother would bake the beans for me. It was fun. The station was built in 1916. For my generation, it bore witness to the time when the newborn People's Republic underwent a fervent campaign to develop its economy after decades of war and the people confidently began rebuilding our country despite the poverty and hardships they faced. For me, the station was part of my childhood memory. | 
