Leaving Chicago, I looked out the window at the industrial landscape. Because I'm from Kansas, I've never seen a salvage yard for watercraft, but lo and behold, close to Union Station in Chicago the train tracks run alongside a huge piece of property with a myriad of different kinds and sizes of boats, all in a sad state of disrepair. There's a lot of rundown two story houses, built within just a few feet of each other. I stared out the window, wondering how you would install siding or windows if you were working in a 3 or 4 foot space.
On the train, I read a book, visited with Rebekah, learned what a "Zune" was, and people watched. The attendant made an announcement that the train was full, thus they were taking reservations for the dining car for supper. She was going to start with the people who had sleeping berths, then work her way up the train from the last coach car forward. We were in the first coach car, so we didn't hold out much hope. An hour or two later, she appeared, and as she stopped by our seats, she said she had one reservation left, at 8:45 pm. We took it, wanting to give the train dining experience another try.
Soon, an announcement was made that they were behind schedule in serving people with reservations, and as the evening progressed, they got further and further behind. At about 6:00pm, I went to the snack car and got a bowl of cereal and some milk. We ate crackers and other things we had brought onboard with us and spent some time in the observation car, enjoying the scenery rolling by. At 9:45pm, fully one hour late, all those with 8:45 reservations were called. We were seated across from a couple who were from Niles, Michigan, and were on their way to Flagstaff AZ for a bowling tournament. Conversation was basically pleasant, although the man was very sarcastic and rude as he muttered under his breath at the wait staff. We had Black Angus burgers and salads, and a serving of Haagen Daz.
After our late supper, we strolled back to our seats and settled in for the remainder of our trip. It grew dark and quiet on the train, with people sleeping and visiting quietly. The couple seated in front of us and a gray haired woman across the aisle were from Newton, and chatted pleasantly. At the various stops, no announcements were made of what town we were in. The car attendants placed a ticket over your seat with your destination, then came to get you when you're supposed to be getting off. Suddenly, the train stopped. We were near Newton (I found out later that we were actually in the Walton area), and stopped dead on the tracks. Rebekah was anxious to get her things together, so we gathered up our stuff and went downstairs to where our suitcases were. Another woman and her granddaughter followed us down. There were 3 or 4 men standing in the baggage area, also waiting to get off in Newton. An Amtrak employee came down and waited for the signal to open the doors. And there we all stood. It was about 3:15am.
We waited for almost 45 minutes. An authoritative man, looking like he might be the conductor, came down and said we were waiting on the eastbound train to come through before we could roll into the station. A few more minutes went by and here came the eastbound, inches from us on the other track. Still we sat. Here came a freight train. Still we sat. Here came another freight train. THEN, we started rolling. Made it into the Newton station at 4:30 or so, and I was home by 5:00am, in my own bed. I'll never forget how good that felt!
Final comments tomorrow.
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