Arlington, began its life as a railroad camp on the Missouri Pacific RR, in Eastern Colorado. The trains have stopped running and the rails collect rust. No longer is there the clicking of wheels flashing over the tracks. Cars and trucks can be heard rumbling along the highway that followed the rails to Pueblo.
There a couple of hardy ranchers that still call this little prairie burg home. The Post Office closed and moved to Hasewell a few years back. The roadside businesses are gone and the few store fronts are now silent. The roadside park has a caretaker and the occasional traveler will stop for a moment. Silence is the main companion for the few that pause.
The main feature of the town is the schoolhouse that sits in far corner of the town. The two story building dominates the land, yet years of neglect is showing. Number of years ago some locals wanted to buy the school but the scrapper that owned it would not sell. Today the junk that had littered the yard is gone except the tires left in the weeds. The winds whistle through broken windows, the bell tower is sliest for the few birds and it appears that the school may be doomed.
The town has set vacant for so many years that the weeds dominate. The few streets are overgrown and the remains of houses and building rise above them. Street signs mark where the roads had once been. Rooflines are barely visible in the overgrown town.
Yet someday the tracks may hear the clicking of wheels again. A group wants to buy the rails but the transaction is held up in court and government agencies. Arlington has no farming, most of that is to the east. Trains would just pass through the remains of what once was on their way to Pueblo.
Nearby is a WWII auxiliary airstrip and little further is Adobe reservoir. The canals today carry dust of yesteryear when the sugar beet ruled the country.