SUTERSVILLE, Pa. — It was a typical Mother’s Day in the Chenault house in this tiny western Pennsylvania town.

Julie, Rachael and Dustin cooked breakfast. Rachael and Julie had “dippy eggs” and Dustin scrambled. They joked about the big old pan Rachael used to fry one egg at a time. Dustin was flying high after attending his girlfriend’s prom the night before.

Down the block, at June Bugs bar, grandma Jean Goodman was helping with the Mother’s Day breakfast rush.

At about 1:15 p.m., a CSX train hauled through town, as it does at least six times a day.

Dustin, planning to hang out with friends, was just walking across the tracks. Minutes later, he was a statistic: the fourth person hit and the second killed in the past 18 months by a train going through Sutersville.

This blue-collar town about 20 miles southeast of Pittsburgh has fewer than 600 people. It is sandwiched between the Youghiogheny River and a major CSX train line. The tracks run through the center, between the main streets — 2nd and 3rd — barely 15 feet from homes and shops, many long abandoned.

“There have been people getting killed on the tracks for as long as I can remember,” John Lyons, mayor and lifelong Sutersville resident, said.

For decades, the town and CSX have had an ongoing debate about who should pay the $175,000 for rails and lights at the town’s three crossings — only one of which has a fully functional rail that goes down when a train comes through. Lyons says the town doesn’t have the money. CSX won’t pay.

“We make an effort to be good neighbors to the railroad. They could also try to be good neighbors,” Lyons said. “They don’t seem to care.”

CSX did not respond to several phone calls.

For the past 18 months, with residents and police saying the accidents have become more frequent, especially when compared to other towns that sit on tracks, the incidents have consumed Sutersville.

In West Newton, for example, another rail town of 2,870 people just four miles away, the last train-related death was in October 2007.

There, residents point out, all the crossings have rails and lights.

In all of Pennsylvania in 2008, 47 people were killed by trains. Across the country, 880.

So for little Sutersville, the numbers are high.

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No one in Sutersville knows which came first, the train or the town. The two have been linked since Sutersville was settled in 1870.

As the town grew, so did the railroad, hauling more and more coal and steel from the area.

Today, folks barely notice the trains. The blaring whistle and vibrations blend into the rural landscape.

“You needed the railroad to haul the coal and the railroad needed the town, because they produced the coal,” said Ed Smart, 69, who has spent most of his life about two miles up the hill from Sutersville’s train tracks.

Over the years, three crossings went up, but only one — at the edge of town, far from the shops and businesses that line the center — has lights and a guard rail. The other two crossings, one with only lights and the third with just a “Railroad Crossing” sign, are also far from the shops.

At some point — no one remembers when — steps were built leading into the tracks, making it easier for residents to cross directly over the rusty rails.

Dustin’s family now says it will fight in town and council meetings to have a 4-foot concrete retaining wall built on one side of the tracks — something to prevent people from crossing over the tracks.

In the meantime, children look both ways. Mothers warn them: don’t play on the tracks.”

Older residents remember hopping trains as teenagers to get across town. Then, the trains meant prosperity. Sutersville is different today.

Few stores are left. There is June Bugs, Sheree’s Tavern, a bowling alley, a smattering of car garages and Miller’s Place — a 107-year-old convenience store and diner.

The coal mines and steel mills are gone. The lumberyard went bankrupt in 1998. The population has dropped from 755 in 1990 to fewer than 600. Annual per capita income is under $14,000, about half the national average.

Through it all, the trains have been constant. Sutersville wouldn’t exist without the trains, residents figure. No one can imagine what it would be like without them.

“I lay up there in bed and I listen to the whistle. It’s a soothing sound. You lay there and think, where’s that going?” said lifelong resident, Ed Smart.

The trains, though, no longer bring jobs — or people. The train station closed at least 40 years ago. Many young people leave. Older people don’t know why they should stay.

“Nothing seems to be the way it used to be and maybe that’s a good thing, and maybe it’s not,” Mayor Lyons mused.

There are few activities or jobs. Just a park with a caved-in metal bench and a weedy tennis court that has no net. A basketball court. Fishing and hunting. Paintballing in the woods. Bars, taverns, Miller’s — or play chicken on the tracks, some residents joke.

Because today, the trains mostly bring tragedy.

A train killed Dustin. And on March 6, 2008, Joseph Hermann, who walked out of a bar and sat on the tracks to rest, apparently too drunk to get up in time. Days later, on March 24, Autumn Scavnicky and a passenger jumped out of a car just before it was crushed. On April 13, George Casoni was hit on the way to a bar. He survived, badly injured.

Police say in all instances the people were reckless and trespassing on private property.

Residents complain the crossings are unsafe. There are no private property signs. Many residents believe crossing at the steps is proper — if it isn’t safe, they wonder, why were the steps installed?

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Dustin cleaned off his plate. It was almost 1 p.m. as he headed for the park. Julie hesitated, thinking he should clean his room. Instead, she gave him a kiss and a hug and told him to grab a soda pop.

Five minutes later, when Dustin found the park empty, he sent his sister, Rachael, a text message that he was heading to their friend Tyler’s house.

Dustin stepped onto the tracks, making his way across. Family and friends say he heard the train coming from behind.

He kept walking, dialing his girlfriend’s phone number.

On this morning, the train was running on the wrong track because of construction in West Newton.

Dustin never even turned around.

The phone call lasted only three seconds.

Andrew Wright came running out of his home and called 911. Wright’s sister, Amber, tried to perform CPR. It was futile. Within minutes, Amber was pounding on the Chenault’s porch door. Julie was watching cartoons before heading to June Bugs.

“Dustin was hit by the train,” Amber shouted.

Julie ran barefooted down the block, Rachael and Amber behind. A friend pulled up and rushed the three in his car to the crash, barely a mile away.

The train was stopped. Police and firefighters surrounded the area. Julie jumped onto the tracks. A police officer tried to stop her.

“That’s my son,” she screamed.

Crawling underneath the massive metal cars, the gray rocks and metal tracks scraping her bare feet, Julie dragged herself within 3 feet of her son. She stretched out her hand. Another few inches and she could touch him.

“He didn’t look bad,” she says, “but in my gut, I knew.”