The Great Train Fantasy

"The train is rolling down the track,
Listen to the wheels go clickety clack,
Over the bridge, around the bend,
Taking me for a ride."
The Train Song by Phil Rosenthal

"Down by the station
early in the morning,
See the little puffer-bellies all in a row.
See the engine driver
pull his little lever...
Puff, puff, Toot, toot,
Off we go!"
Down by the Station by Will Hillenbrand

Maybe it's because I grew up listening to the sound of the trains at the end of our street. Lulling me to sleep at night the way the ocean's waves have always done. Maybe it's because my younger brother had a full Lionel Train layout in the basement of our house, and visiting it was entering another world. More than likely it's because when I was about 8 years old, my dad, mom, brother Matt and myself traveled from New York to California by train. You can get to California by train even now, but it's not the same trip. From New York, we rode the Union Pacific to Chicago -- that was a day trip. Then we transferred to the famous Southern Pacific. We had a family size compartment with a private lavatory and four sleeping berths. The dining room on the train had tables set with crisp, white cloths and lovely little lamps. There were chefs in the kitchen preparing meals to order. I remember best the breakfast of French Toast made with French bread. There was a domed observation car where you could view the scenery from all sides. The lounge car had little desks with real stationary in the drawers. And a piano that was played in the evenings by a musician. There was a barber shop on board; a valet compartment where ones shoes could be shined and ones clothes brushed and pressed. There was even a little shop that sold newspapers, magazines, candy, etc. A hotel on rails. My brother and I ran around the train for four days and never got bored.
We visited San Francisco for a couple of days and then took another brilliant train to Los Angeles: The Inland Lakes Railroad. It was only a day trip but elegant.
To return home, we again boarded the Southern Pacific. An unforgettable journey.
Many years later, I once more crossed the country by train. This time with my husband and our son, Alex. We went from Pittsburgh to San Jose, California. When we boarded the Southern Pacific in Chicago, it was like a ghost train. The cars with the barber shop, etc., were still there, but the compartments were boarded up. The piano sat dilapidated and out of tune. The dining rooms had paper cloths and the food was essentially frozen meals heated up. The sleeping compartments were still very nice and the stewards were helpful and friendly. But the real elegance of the trip was gone. Most folks didn't miss it because they never experienced the "way it was."

Maybe it's a genetic thing -- this love of trains. Alex was mad about trains growing up. For one of his birthdays when he was very young, we had a cake that was a train -- well, three cars of a train. It was really charming, and we had a difficult time cutting into it. He always wanted a train set of his own. He might still have one some day. In our old house in Beverly, we talked about having a train track suspended from the kitchen ceiling, then in and out of the sun room.

When my son Jamie and I traveled in Europe (a gift of a dear friend), we had the great fun of riding the Eurorail from Paris to Venice, then Venice to Vienna; from there to Munich and then Frankfort. We had window seats facing each other in first class compartments, and decided that these were Miss Marple trains. After that trip I decided that near the top of my bucket list would be a trip on the Orient Express. That has to be the most luxurious train still operating. I believe the Canadian Railroad has wonderful trips as well. But I fear that kind of train travel in the States is now just American Folklore.
Everyone is in too much of a hurry to travel long distance by train on a regular basis. But it's really an amazing way to see our country.

What brought all this on? Well, my three year old granddaughter, Keira, loves trains. All trains are Thomas to Keira. The Wenham Museum here on Boston's North Shore has a terrific display of model trains in beautiful layouts. Trains of all sizes (gauges). Keira delights in going there because she can play "conductor" and make the trains go and stop with the press of a finger. She also has had a wish to go to a place called Yakima (which is a real city in Washington State). Something that came about from a Disney TV show that she watches. For a few months now, I was frequently greeted with, "Gramma -- I want to go to Yakima." Making the trek to Washington State isn't easily accomplished. But the opportunity to take Keira on a real train ride and arrive in Yakima -- well - Keira, Clea (Keira's mom) and I took the Downeaster from Boston to Dover, NH, telling Keira that we were going to Yakima - (a huge deception, I know). Clea even found an on-line site selling t-shirts from everywhere including Yakima. So Keira came back sporting an Everyone Loves a Yakima Girl t-shirt. It was a delight really. Watching Keira board the huge Amtrak train. I chose Dover because it's a 1 hour and 15 minute ride -- just long enough for the little girl. Clea and I had never been there, so this was something of an adventure for us, too. We arrived at lunch time; strolled the downtown area. Ate at a very friendly restaurant. Then we spent an hour in an amazing second-hand bookstore. Keira LOVES bookstores. This one appeared to be rather small upon entering but then room after room after room appeared. We finally found the children's collection, and Keira made some very good choices. I had already been thinking about this entry and had tried for several days to find the lyrics to the song Down by the station without any luck. No one I asked remembered the lyrics and the internet didn't give them up. In the kid's section of the bookstore, the book by Will Hillenbrand just came to hand. Very synchronistic. We walked some more through the town, had ice cream, and boarded the train back to Boston just as the rains came. Not much of a Sunday? Almost to North Station, Keira curled up in her mom's lap and said, "Mommy, I like Yakima." There is, after that, nothing more to say.