Take a train to Chicago from New York? Who does that anyway?
Apparently there are still a number of people who do. According to the story, figures compiled by Amtrak put 390,000 riders using some portion of the Lake Shore Limited, from New York, in 2017.
It is also reported 110,000 riders rode some portion on the southern link between Washington, D.C. and Chicago. Certainly nowhere near the number who fly back and forth, but certainly more than zero.
Going to Chicago with my mother started sometime in the 50s, when I was fairly small. We went there so my mother could see her family, having come from Tampico, Illinois and Aurora. Our first trip was by United Airlines, but the plane encountered a severe thunderstorm over Ohio and had to put down on Toledo. We were put up in a hotel, picked up in the morning, and resumed our flight the next day.
I remember Chicago was nearly underwater it had rained so hard. The cab driver was telling us it was one of the worst storms he remembered. It was also enough to convince my mother to never fly again. Subsequent trips were always by train.
I distinctly remember asking my mother why did it seem people in Chicago's Union Station were not moving as fast as those in Penn Station. It was morning, "rush hour," when we would pull in by train, but the contrast in the cities was apparent even to what I'm going to guess was a five-year old.
I think we took the Broadway Limited from Penn Station. It would leave at around 4:00 P.M. and was scheduled to pull into Chicago 17 hours later, around 9:00. I think the 20th Century Limited left from Grand Central Terminal. They had the red carpet.
I always got a kick out of taking the LIRR from our home at the Murray Hill stop on the Port Washington line, getting on the Chicago train and finally coming out of a train the next day. It seemed so seamless.
I also got a kick of some regularly seen homeless guys who were passing through the upper level/Amtrak level years ago when I would get off my LIRR train and go out through the upper level. A lot of people, homeless and otherwise, have memories of The Golden Age of Rail.
The guys were passing through the station because the nearby church, St. Francis of Assisi, was giving out sandwiches in the morning for the homeless. The guys were quite coherent and I used to hear then talk of the Broadway Limited leaving Penn Station around 4:00 P.M. I always slowed down to hear their conversation.
The NYT carries someone's memories of the dinning car. The dinning car was special. You got there by either going forward or back from your seat through hydraulic doors that whooshed as you opened and closed then. It was always fun walking between the cars without ever being exposed to the outside. It was a safe walk.
I have no idea what we ate, but there was a tablecloth and silverware. It was like being ushered into a restaurant, which of course is what it was. One time, coming from New York to Chicago with my mother's brother, my Uncle Vernon, I was shown how to keep the coffee from spilling in the cup: my uncle said to leave the spoon in the cup. I guess the spoon absorbed the vibrations.
I never traveled on the train in something other than coach. We didn't have a sleeping berth, so I never got the experience of life in an upper or a lower.
And there will always be the memory of the time when my mother was in the Club car having a smoke and I rented a pillow from the porter for 25¢ cents, giving him a 50¢ piece, a common coin in in circulation in the 50s.
Well, the porter never did return with my 25¢ change. I guess he assumed a tip, but I was a kid and I had no intention of tipping him.
Year and years later, I was on the upper level of Penn Station and looked down at one of the tracks and saw the same porter leaning out of an Amtrak train that was in the station. I laughed to myself, and wondered what would be the guy's reaction if I told him he owed me 25¢ from at least two decades ago.
Kids don't like to be cheated.
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