Sean ~ you never cease to amaze me how I felt like I was sitting right next to you guys listening & you bringing us along another cool journey in a train station! What an interesting gent you found…God Bless Him for all he’s been thru & especially he was a Vietnam veteran. A salute & thank you to you soldier & you too Sean! 🇺🇸❤️🇺🇸
Thank you, Sean, for helping the "old fart" with his luggage. We old farts do forget too often that we can't do the same things we could do 50 years ago! And yes, many train stations, many airports and many bus stations have all seen the history you managed to put into one article. I'm guessing most of your readers can relate to that history in many different ways. My mother, who was born in 1911 and died in 2005, expressed amazement at all the changes she had seen in her lifetime, from cars to spaceships, and especially that she had seen the changeover to another century when 2000 rolled around. History and civics need to have higher priority in our schools, in my opinion! Thanks, Sean, for the quick history lesson.
I got triggered by Sean Dietrich again - about train rides.
My sister and I were little (5 and 6?) when Grandmother got sick in Beaufort, SC, and Mom meant to go to her. Dad needed a couple days to arrange travel at his work, so we were taken to Union Terminal in Cincinnati. The building was amazing to look at - it had the appearance of a gigantic mantel clock. Inside, the rounded ceiling caused a cool acoustical effect whereby my sister and I would run to opposite ends and speaking up the wall allowed us to hear each other on the other side. It was like playing telephone without cups and string.
We were dressed to the 9’s in our Sunday best - that’s how you traveled back then. Mom got the tickets and we waited for the sign to indicate our train was boarding. We got on and it was a cool sleeper compartment. We were amused and amazed at the tiny specialized furniture that converted to beds when it was time. We were dying to see that but were instructed by Mom to wait, that the Porter would come along at the proper time to set everything up correctly.
As the train got going, we were amazed by the motion, the sounds, and soon the scenery as we crossed the Ohio River into the hills and pastures of Kentucky.
Soon it started to darken and it was time for dinner. Mom guided us to the dining car which was a few cars away from our car so you had to slide heavy doors aside where you were outside, sort of, and the noise was very loud. It was very exciting. When we got to the dining car, it was a long, narrow, elegant dining room with white-gloved waiters attending to every need. They held each of our chairs to sit and placed the fancy cloth napkins on our laps. They poured water into some beautiful goblets and right away, my sister and I tested them for crystal (like we did with Mom’s pretty glasses) by wetting our fingertips and running them around the edges. They rang loudly and Mom made us cut it out. This was a fancy place for sure! We selected our dinners from a small menu and were served a delicious meal. We had scoops of ice cream for dessert. It was so grand.
When we got back to our room, the porter had been there and our tiny space had been converted to a pull out bed and a bunk with crisp sheets and a blanket folded just so. We read for a short while and went to bed. It would be an early morning. We slept like tops.
We got up the next morning and dressed up again for breakfast. We maneuvered to the dining car again and had delicious eggs, bacon, and toast with orange juice and coffee for Mom. My sister, ever the picky eater, was spotted by the attentive waiter and managed to bring her a bowl of cereal that she enjoyed. The service was exceptional.
There were just a few hours remaining in the trip. The hallway got noisy and Mom cracked open the door to investigate. It was a group of young men who were very excited and full of themselves. Mom had a way of cutting to the bottom of anyone’s soul with a quick and always surprising dispatch. She learned that these young men were all headed to Boot Camp at Parris Island Marine Recruit Depot. Mom informed them that her husband had been there and went on to China as a Replacement Marine at the end of WWII. Their whole demeanor changed to awe as they spoke reverently to the wife of a Marine. We watched all this open-mouthed. Mom was usually more cards-to-the-vest with strangers, but suddenly these young men were trusted friends and she laughed and talked with them about their details of home, family, school, and such. The women could dig an entire resume out of a new acquaintance in a minute flat. She took a few minutes as there were maybe half a dozen fellows.
As we approached Beaufort Station, we retreated to our rooms to freshen up and make sure we were packed. Once we were, we opened our door again to be alert for announcements and to have our luggage collected by the porter. The young gentlemen were doing the same thing and wandered out to the hall to smoke and joke. (Everyone smoked back then, and they were hilarious.)
During a lull, one of the young men offered us a cigarette to which we giggled like crazy at the gag. Another young man said, “No! That’s not what you offer young ladies!” and whipped out a pack of gum. We recoiled. One of our basic edicts was, “Never accept candy from a stranger.” Gum was enough like candy to fit the edict. We put our hands behind our backs and backed away.
Suddenly Mom said, “It’s ok, Girls. These are Marines.”
We watched as every young man there, technically not Marines yet, but headed that way, turned red in the face, but grew taller and wider in the shoulders by a visible amount. The fellow with the gum renewed his offer by presenting the pack again to us. We each took a piece. It was Juicy Fruit.
Becky, you've just described the train trip my mother, sister and I took to New York when my grandfather was dying. I was 7 and my sister was 6. I remember the dining car and the white glove service exactly as you described it, also the porter preparing our cubicle for bed and the noise made when someone opened the doors between the cars. The train we were on was the Twentieth Century Limited. Thank you for taking me down memory lane!
Wonderful memory and you conveyed it so simply, so effectively, I can see those young soldiers changing before your eyes. Aren't you blessed to have such a warm memory!
“My granddaddy always said nostalgia was a crippling narcotic.” I suppose it can be … but maybe nostalgia is more a tonic for what is “ailin’” us. Our world is evolving faster than the earth revolves around the sun and everything is out of pace. While we are all suffering from aging bodies, it’s the overwhelmed minds and divided hearts that we seek to attend … collectively those are the symptoms of “Change Fatigue”. “Looking back”, even at those hard times, secure us in the current, and bolster us as we consider how daunting the future seems. To me a dose or two of nostalgia helps what’s ailing us ... maybe it’s always been that way and it’s why stories handed down seem the best. Just a thought.
Sean has a wonderful knack for making the good old days live again, and painting with words the portrait of an America that unfortunately seems to be slipping rapidly into the quicksand of revisionist history.
I like a train story…..my childhood town came into existence from the Atlantic Coastline. In its beginning, even in a small town, there was a need for a hospital and a roundhouse. Circus trains were the highlight which passed through. I missed those, but gleaned the excitement from my best friends’ stories.
As a prize one year in my classroom, the student who wrote the best paper on travel won a short train ride with a friend. Believe it or not, that was a sought after prize from an otherwise dreaded writing assignment!
Where I live now, there is still a work train in operation…..I hear it nightly and smile each time the whistle sounds. Trains have held a long connecting history, not as prevalent as it once was, but still a way of travel and transport that has lasted all my life. Indeed, such a good feeling! Enjoyed this Connecticut train adventure along with all the train history through the decades.
Sho nuff RicCy- no Bravo Sierra- I hear Dat train a comin, it's coming around da bend, And I ain't seen da sunshine since I don't know when! Been making possum salad, all day and all night long! Bout hillbillied out!
"I’m still that little boy with his address pinned inside his jacket.”.....I think we all have that moment in our memories, what anchors us to our past. Thank you for reminding us.....
There’s something alluring about a train ride, I suppose it’s the nostalgia of it all. This summer I hope to take the Potomac Eagle Scenic Railroad excursion through West Virginia with my three grandsons. It’ll be a first train ride for all of us. I was hoping to do so in the spring when eagles are busy feeding their young. But the schedules didn’t align.
I loved seeing and meeting you in Hartford last year Sean!! I loved this post then and I love it now. I’m sure that you’re busy as heck and I pray that you and yours are doing well 🙏❤️
You are a great sappy story magnet! I love it so much! You must just have that face. Thank you for writing in such a way that makes us feel like we are right there with you!💗 Love memories and nostalgia!
My wife's grandmother took her to NYC to see the Rockets in 1957. They rode the train from Hartford.
In 1957 I lived in a 2 room shack with a path to the privy, wood stove, well pump outside and an insulated dog house. The loaded shot gun was propped up by the front door. The one cop could be called between 8 and 5, with a four party line phone. I went bare foot all summer. Great memories.
Sean, man, I’m looking forward to sharing a Hamms w you when you get to Macon, MO in July. You better set back an hour or so w me cuz I got a shi.load of questions!!
Yeah D, probably need a truckload of PBR to git to da bottom of da story. But from my one meeting, he's Dat kinder guy. Made me think about all dem big stations I went through up Nawth- Union, 30th street, Grand Central, Trenton, Newark, Princeton Junction. Long way from DeFuniak! Like me and Susie said in da 60's "Make Love, not war!" I uster spend a good bit er time up Dat way! Not so bad when you git onto dere ways!
Sean ~ you never cease to amaze me how I felt like I was sitting right next to you guys listening & you bringing us along another cool journey in a train station! What an interesting gent you found…God Bless Him for all he’s been thru & especially he was a Vietnam veteran. A salute & thank you to you soldier & you too Sean! 🇺🇸❤️🇺🇸
Thank you, Sean, for helping the "old fart" with his luggage. We old farts do forget too often that we can't do the same things we could do 50 years ago! And yes, many train stations, many airports and many bus stations have all seen the history you managed to put into one article. I'm guessing most of your readers can relate to that history in many different ways. My mother, who was born in 1911 and died in 2005, expressed amazement at all the changes she had seen in her lifetime, from cars to spaceships, and especially that she had seen the changeover to another century when 2000 rolled around. History and civics need to have higher priority in our schools, in my opinion! Thanks, Sean, for the quick history lesson.
I got triggered by Sean Dietrich again - about train rides.
My sister and I were little (5 and 6?) when Grandmother got sick in Beaufort, SC, and Mom meant to go to her. Dad needed a couple days to arrange travel at his work, so we were taken to Union Terminal in Cincinnati. The building was amazing to look at - it had the appearance of a gigantic mantel clock. Inside, the rounded ceiling caused a cool acoustical effect whereby my sister and I would run to opposite ends and speaking up the wall allowed us to hear each other on the other side. It was like playing telephone without cups and string.
We were dressed to the 9’s in our Sunday best - that’s how you traveled back then. Mom got the tickets and we waited for the sign to indicate our train was boarding. We got on and it was a cool sleeper compartment. We were amused and amazed at the tiny specialized furniture that converted to beds when it was time. We were dying to see that but were instructed by Mom to wait, that the Porter would come along at the proper time to set everything up correctly.
As the train got going, we were amazed by the motion, the sounds, and soon the scenery as we crossed the Ohio River into the hills and pastures of Kentucky.
Soon it started to darken and it was time for dinner. Mom guided us to the dining car which was a few cars away from our car so you had to slide heavy doors aside where you were outside, sort of, and the noise was very loud. It was very exciting. When we got to the dining car, it was a long, narrow, elegant dining room with white-gloved waiters attending to every need. They held each of our chairs to sit and placed the fancy cloth napkins on our laps. They poured water into some beautiful goblets and right away, my sister and I tested them for crystal (like we did with Mom’s pretty glasses) by wetting our fingertips and running them around the edges. They rang loudly and Mom made us cut it out. This was a fancy place for sure! We selected our dinners from a small menu and were served a delicious meal. We had scoops of ice cream for dessert. It was so grand.
When we got back to our room, the porter had been there and our tiny space had been converted to a pull out bed and a bunk with crisp sheets and a blanket folded just so. We read for a short while and went to bed. It would be an early morning. We slept like tops.
We got up the next morning and dressed up again for breakfast. We maneuvered to the dining car again and had delicious eggs, bacon, and toast with orange juice and coffee for Mom. My sister, ever the picky eater, was spotted by the attentive waiter and managed to bring her a bowl of cereal that she enjoyed. The service was exceptional.
There were just a few hours remaining in the trip. The hallway got noisy and Mom cracked open the door to investigate. It was a group of young men who were very excited and full of themselves. Mom had a way of cutting to the bottom of anyone’s soul with a quick and always surprising dispatch. She learned that these young men were all headed to Boot Camp at Parris Island Marine Recruit Depot. Mom informed them that her husband had been there and went on to China as a Replacement Marine at the end of WWII. Their whole demeanor changed to awe as they spoke reverently to the wife of a Marine. We watched all this open-mouthed. Mom was usually more cards-to-the-vest with strangers, but suddenly these young men were trusted friends and she laughed and talked with them about their details of home, family, school, and such. The women could dig an entire resume out of a new acquaintance in a minute flat. She took a few minutes as there were maybe half a dozen fellows.
As we approached Beaufort Station, we retreated to our rooms to freshen up and make sure we were packed. Once we were, we opened our door again to be alert for announcements and to have our luggage collected by the porter. The young gentlemen were doing the same thing and wandered out to the hall to smoke and joke. (Everyone smoked back then, and they were hilarious.)
During a lull, one of the young men offered us a cigarette to which we giggled like crazy at the gag. Another young man said, “No! That’s not what you offer young ladies!” and whipped out a pack of gum. We recoiled. One of our basic edicts was, “Never accept candy from a stranger.” Gum was enough like candy to fit the edict. We put our hands behind our backs and backed away.
Suddenly Mom said, “It’s ok, Girls. These are Marines.”
We watched as every young man there, technically not Marines yet, but headed that way, turned red in the face, but grew taller and wider in the shoulders by a visible amount. The fellow with the gum renewed his offer by presenting the pack again to us. We each took a piece. It was Juicy Fruit.
Becky, you've just described the train trip my mother, sister and I took to New York when my grandfather was dying. I was 7 and my sister was 6. I remember the dining car and the white glove service exactly as you described it, also the porter preparing our cubicle for bed and the noise made when someone opened the doors between the cars. The train we were on was the Twentieth Century Limited. Thank you for taking me down memory lane!
Becky ~ fabulous story!! Loved every word … thanks for sharing a bit of your experience as a young girl! 💖
Becky, I so enjoyed reading this short story. I was right there with you for the entire trip. Please keep sharing.
Wonderful memory and you conveyed it so simply, so effectively, I can see those young soldiers changing before your eyes. Aren't you blessed to have such a warm memory!
Great stour!!
Sorry about my spelling. Your story put me right there! Hope you continue. Enjoyed it a lot!
“My granddaddy always said nostalgia was a crippling narcotic.” I suppose it can be … but maybe nostalgia is more a tonic for what is “ailin’” us. Our world is evolving faster than the earth revolves around the sun and everything is out of pace. While we are all suffering from aging bodies, it’s the overwhelmed minds and divided hearts that we seek to attend … collectively those are the symptoms of “Change Fatigue”. “Looking back”, even at those hard times, secure us in the current, and bolster us as we consider how daunting the future seems. To me a dose or two of nostalgia helps what’s ailing us ... maybe it’s always been that way and it’s why stories handed down seem the best. Just a thought.
Well put, Ron.
Sean has a wonderful knack for making the good old days live again, and painting with words the portrait of an America that unfortunately seems to be slipping rapidly into the quicksand of revisionist history.
Sean&Jamie, welcome to the "Constitution state", "nutmeg state"! Thank you for you being always helpful to elderly people!
God bless yall 🙏 and Stay safe.
This made me weepy. I grew up right outside of Hartford and can picture it like I was there with the two of you. ♥️
That’s the sign of a good writer, Holly. One who can make it seem like we are sitting right there beside him.
I like a train story…..my childhood town came into existence from the Atlantic Coastline. In its beginning, even in a small town, there was a need for a hospital and a roundhouse. Circus trains were the highlight which passed through. I missed those, but gleaned the excitement from my best friends’ stories.
As a prize one year in my classroom, the student who wrote the best paper on travel won a short train ride with a friend. Believe it or not, that was a sought after prize from an otherwise dreaded writing assignment!
Where I live now, there is still a work train in operation…..I hear it nightly and smile each time the whistle sounds. Trains have held a long connecting history, not as prevalent as it once was, but still a way of travel and transport that has lasted all my life. Indeed, such a good feeling! Enjoyed this Connecticut train adventure along with all the train history through the decades.
Sho nuff RicCy- no Bravo Sierra- I hear Dat train a comin, it's coming around da bend, And I ain't seen da sunshine since I don't know when! Been making possum salad, all day and all night long! Bout hillbillied out!
Pubert Earle
"I’m still that little boy with his address pinned inside his jacket.”.....I think we all have that moment in our memories, what anchors us to our past. Thank you for reminding us.....
His Post is missing from the Comments now!
I've noticed that before, for some unknown reason?
Whose post?
Durn it, I don't remember anything except he is a regular Commenter! Sorry!
And, he had $5 in his shoe ;-)
Not quite sure, I wonder if it is purpose driven, or a mistake.
Probably just a Substack issue of some kind. They do have a few.
There’s something alluring about a train ride, I suppose it’s the nostalgia of it all. This summer I hope to take the Potomac Eagle Scenic Railroad excursion through West Virginia with my three grandsons. It’ll be a first train ride for all of us. I was hoping to do so in the spring when eagles are busy feeding their young. But the schedules didn’t align.
Have fun up north!
I loved seeing and meeting you in Hartford last year Sean!! I loved this post then and I love it now. I’m sure that you’re busy as heck and I pray that you and yours are doing well 🙏❤️
Great message, Sean. Made me think of "train songs" - Johnny Cash, Arlo Guthrie, and that duet by Willy N. and Patsy C.
My wife and I and some other old toots want to take a train trip across Canada. Tops on our bucket list. we've bussed it across the US and loved it.
Yep, nostalgia really is a crippling narcotic. Sometimes I almost OD on it. But, as the ol' sayin' goes, "What a way to go!"
You are a great sappy story magnet! I love it so much! You must just have that face. Thank you for writing in such a way that makes us feel like we are right there with you!💗 Love memories and nostalgia!
My wife's grandmother took her to NYC to see the Rockets in 1957. They rode the train from Hartford.
In 1957 I lived in a 2 room shack with a path to the privy, wood stove, well pump outside and an insulated dog house. The loaded shot gun was propped up by the front door. The one cop could be called between 8 and 5, with a four party line phone. I went bare foot all summer. Great memories.
Sean, man, I’m looking forward to sharing a Hamms w you when you get to Macon, MO in July. You better set back an hour or so w me cuz I got a shi.load of questions!!
Yeah D, probably need a truckload of PBR to git to da bottom of da story. But from my one meeting, he's Dat kinder guy. Made me think about all dem big stations I went through up Nawth- Union, 30th street, Grand Central, Trenton, Newark, Princeton Junction. Long way from DeFuniak! Like me and Susie said in da 60's "Make Love, not war!" I uster spend a good bit er time up Dat way! Not so bad when you git onto dere ways!
Yor amigo,
Pubert Earle
Stay safe Bro