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24 October 2008
Cumberland, Maryland Rail reflections When I was five or six year old, my Grandmother took me down to the Reading Terminal in Bethlehem, Pennnsylvania to meet the train carrying my two great aunts from Philadelphia. When that big black steam locomotive pulled into the station hissing and chugging, my heart leaped right into the cab of that engine. I’ve been hooked ever since. Now, all these years later, I own my own private car; a heavyweight business car built for the Canadian National Railway in 1928. It is a 20 year dream come true. While other people my age talk about classic cars, real estate, or business enterprises, I revel in this 106 ton, 86 1 /2 foot railcar called the “Métis.” I couldn’t be happier. Like anyone else in this world, we all have dreams. Mine came true for better or for worse. I lie awake at night worrying about what it cost to keep this old car running. Repairs and modifications are expensive. But when we are barreling down the track at 80 miles an hour, and my passengers are dining on prime rib by candle light on monogrammed china, I can’t help but think this is what dreams are made of. There are about 65 private railcars in this country that are Amtrak compliant. Mine is one of them. Some are owned and operated by people is choose to use them as their own private RV’s. Others like myself, charter our cars, because it’s the only way we can afford to move them. Our passengers are varied, but most remember the days when rail travel was the only way to fly. They talk about the dark days during World War II when they watched cars like mine take their men off to war. We have couples who want to enjoy a unique adventure because one of them has a cancer and may not make it. We have others who simply like to hear the clickity-clack of the wheels under their feet. It allows them a certain intimacy one can’t experience on a jet plane. It is these people who seek out cars like mine, and with a crew like Carol Sheeler and Mike Perkins, it is easy to provide the intimate service our passengers expect. To hear their stories as to how they came about to ride this car is fascinating as well, and in some cases, heart breaking. Now when I will turn in tonight, on this the eve of our last day of our 3000 mile journey, I’ll no doubt worry about how I’m going to get a wheel set turned because of flat spots, and how I hope the pipes don’t freeze when the Midwest winter sets in, and how I hope the trucks hold out under the stress of bad track. But as I sit here watching my passengers create memories they will hold sacred forever, I can’t help but think, “I love my car.” Thanks Gramma for taking to the station that day so many years ago. Be seein’ you |
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