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The Trip Diary. First, I have to explain the middle 1950’s to put this all in context. Understand that this was the middle of the growth of what came to be known as “popular culture.” Magazines, newspapers, movies, radio and the new kid on the block, Television. It was all fairly new, fairly exciting and always provocative. As a kid and now a teenager, this was my view of the outside world. What I knew of what was happening was through these windows. And what what a melange it was. I consumed it all with my eyes hanging out. I read the newspapers and magazines to get a sense of the world, Life, Look, Saturday Evening Post and occasionally Time and Newsweek. Radio and then Television were entertainment, movies not so much as they actually cost money.( if truth be told, scared the living pejabbers out of me- the final irony was I taught a class for 20 years on the History of the Movies!) And there were the Comic Books- the underground message aimed directly at people like me.

Images were my mete’. If I was going to be an artist then I had to understand the visual world and magazines supplied those images. The middle 1950’s saw the end of the flowering of the golden age of illustration and advertising that was not photographic. I bought magazines every time then appeared fresh on the local news stand, to look at, study and finally to keep in carefully created files to copy, understand and keep for reference. ( this passion for the image has continued even down to now and the files are still in the filing cabinets in folders carefully labeled.)

Then there was the appearance of Walt Disney and his program on ABC Televison- this program was really facinating to me to see how the “magic” was done. Animation was a laborious process but it took artists to do it. The more I saw the more I was interested, never making the jump to thinking about working for Disney, making animated films or even seeing the “real place” where it was done.

Suddenly, the opportunity presented itself! My uncle, who had raised me, offered to take me to California for month for a visit, totally out of the blue. ( in fairness, I need to mention that I am sure that somewhere along the line it had been discussed with my father and there was my brother and sister that were not invited, and how that was going to be worked out.) So in 1954 I was going to California, on the train, to actually see ” La-La land!” One of the first things I wanted to do was to see the Disney studio, this required some stratagem. You just did not walk up to the gate and ask to see the place! So I carefully crafted a letter to the Disney studio, asking if it would be possible to take a tour of the place. Within a week I received a formal reply to contact the studio when I was in California and I would be accommodated. Well, now!

(I am California-bound!)

 

One of the first things that needed to be done as far as the planning for this Grand Trip was  a list of things that had to be purchased and/or done. So last June I put together a master list of things that I would need to obtain, purchase or find to get going on the trip. Unfortunately, there were missteps in the process. One was that of luggage. My intent was to use a book bag/ backpack as one of the luggage units. As soon as it was packed the obvious was all too plain. It was too small, too inappropriate and strangely, too heavy. This required some rethinking and altering of what I might take with me. Finally, at least for now, a rucksack seems to be the right fit and going on that plan it is what I have packed to see if it will take everything I will need and stay under 20 pounds.( Amtrak suggests that carry on luggage weigh no more than 25 pounds and VIA rail- Canadian Passenger Rail system suggests 20 pounds.)

Then there is the main part of the luggage first it was just going to be a duffle type bag but that was going to be a big hassle since there is a bit of walking from and to the train and carrying both bags was not going to be any fun. So the ever popular “wheelie” bag was purchased. Last year, most of the clothes were purchased all at once and packed to see if this bag could be kept under the 20 pound limit too. The idea of this bag was it would be stored while the rucksack would be used for essentials needed while on the train, along with stuff to be used for diversion.

Another plan for the trip was to lend some kind of legitimacy to the endeavor. All along I had the idea of making a book out of the trip or trips. And, to add more of a challenge to the idea was to illustrate the book with drawings made along the way. Some of the thinking that was part of this was last year I had produced several books using the “publish-on-demand” service “Blurb.com” and it turned out to be such a neat method of getting a very nice looking book out that the plans went forward to do this. One added plus to the whole idea was that back in the long past, my Uncle took me west when I was in high school and besides taking some photos I kept a rudimentary “trip diary.” This then could be used as a model, how ever flawed.

(1954 Trip Diary)

The idea for the trip began to have legs when I realized that if I was going do this it had to happen sooner rather than later and that, in reality, there was very little holding me back from doing it. Except, maybe planning the trip itself. Without knowing it I had parts and pieces of the trip and what I would need already gathered. For instance, I had purchased a small bag from L.L. Bean for an unknown reason and it turned out to be perfect for a tool container for art materials.

Trying to get a handle on train schedules I had down loaded and printed time tables from each train I was interested in taking from the Amtrak web site. Then I found a site that talked about traveling on Amtrak both good and bad by people who were very much into rail travel, so I watched what was going on there. It seemed that when ever there was a question about trains and operations, this site had the answers.

Of course, there was “You-tube” and some of the videos that were on there that gave whole sections of video to traveling on the trains, tours of the various cars and what to expect-( mostly they were on the “long distance” trains.)

One of the more important steps was to move into the new modern age of the twenty-first century and get an I-phone. For those who know me and my “barnacle on the side of progress” attitude will find this to be a radical and quizzical move. It was all part of the long range plan. In one of my former trips I made a big mistake in taking too much stuff with me. ( mostly books and things that I was going to do while on the trip.) And a portable CD player and carriers full of CDs- I was not going make that mistake this time. So I purchased the I-phone, dumped my second land line and transferred that number to the phone. ( it was a good idea but that had been my fax/ computer line and now I was getting interesting phone calls on my cell-phone! Which I knew were all bogus because I never used that line for voice communication. ) The first thing I did was add as many useful apps to the phone, like “i-tunes” and load the phone with every concievable classical music piece I could find, plus every travel app that would be useful. ( of course, with that amount of purchases from the I-tune store, my credit card shut down my account until they found out who had my credit card!)

Much later, when I had purchased my tickets for the train, I found out that the tickets could be stored on the I-phone and there would be no need to have hard copies of the tickets to show on the train! ( I am not ready for the twenty-first century!)

( Making a list and checking it twice!)

A friend who has been reading this stuff suggested that what has been missing in all these blogs is what it has taken to put legs under the current adventure. I have to admit that it is a long and involved story.  So, let’s start off with the statement that I have not been a fan of traveling all that much and vacations, although very refreshing and relaxing have never been very high on my list of things that I needed to do. As I mentioned in the last blog that when I did feel the need to travel it was usually by train. It has always been my idea of a vacation. I have done all the methods of travel, car, bus, boat, plane and although they get you there all have down sides which I will not go into here.

This brings us to this trip. Now most people who know me have heard my “bucket list” idea of circumnavigating the USA on Amtrak. I have mentioned it every so often and then a couple of years ago I came to the realization that, one, it was possible, and two, I had better do it while I was still physically able to.  For several years, since I had a computer and an Internet connection I have been looking at the Amtrak web site and running itenaries, time against cost and connections that might work. Finally two years ago when I could not work that much, I started to plan this process out.

The one thing that really started to bring the whole plan into focus was the potential of Amtrak coming to Moline. This would mean that a trip to Galesburg to catch a train would not be necessary and I could start and finish the various trips from home. Unfortunately, the plan had a bit of a flaw in that no one was sure when Amtrak would finally get funding to bring the trains to Moline and I was running out of time. I just could not wait any longer if I was going to get on with this trip or trips.  Looking back at the projected dates of completion of the rebuilding of the tracks and the actual beginning of the service, the dates have past without any action other than it being said that it was going to happen.     ( Next time- “The Big Plans”)

One train trip that is closer to our time was  back when I decided that I really needed a vacation and one as far away from the telephone as I could get and still remain on the American continent. It appeared to me that riding the train would fit this bill. In those days it was possible to find a travel agent who would book the train, hotel, bus and ferry passages without you having to do the hassle.  So I asked them to book the whole deal. My idea was to go to Los Angeles, up the coast to Seattle, cross over the border and stop at Victoria, go on to Vancouver, BC and then across Canada to Halifax. It was a grand idea and a grand trip, no phones on the train and if I did not tell anyone which hotels I was stopping in then so there was no way to contact me. And it worked. ( Of course, you have to realize that this was way before cell phones and the Internet.)

Just a note here that the rail system called Amtrak was just formed and they were using old equipment from other railroads and pretty much following the old timetables. So it was almost like the “old days.” ( looking back at the old tickets it was decidedly cheaper back then too!)

So I traveled to the west coast, up the coast, then to get to Victoria I needed to get on a bus that took me to the ferry and then to Victoria. Where I stayed at the Empress hotel, my room was a single room that was the size of suite in a regular hotel which had a bathroom that was the size of a regular hotel room! They also had “high tea” which was a lavish spread, which if you participated would have cost you $18.50 but that was in Canadian Money which was out of paridy by 15% so it was not all that expensive but the tea was free.  Then on to Vancouver, which at this time was a nice two story city. ( I came back in a few years and it was all ski-scrapers and bustle and you could go for blocks without hearing any English spoken!)

Then it was across Canada via the Intercontinental train which took four days just to get to Montreal. But it proved that one of the most civilized manner of traveling was on the train. I remember sitting in a dining car going across the Canadian Prairie, sharing a very nice bottle of wine with a tour guide from Montreal, thinking” this has to be the most civilized way of traveling in the world!” What was even more civilized was the dining car stewards just let us sit there and enjoy the moment, no rushing us out of the car.

Then there was the slow order through one of the native areas in Quebec. According to the treaty, any native person who wanted to stop the train and get on and ride to the next stop could. Every so often there would be a group of kids with their bikes and they would wave the train down, it would stop and they would all scramble on the baggage car and ride a few miles down the track ,the train would stop and they would all get off and ride off on their bikes down a forest trail and the train would continue.

At Montreal, I switched trains to the “Ocean” and continued to Halifax, which was still another day and a half away. We passed into two time zones one of which I had never heard of before, ” Atlantic!” The train station in Halifax was one of the old kind with a train shed with a glass ceiling. I kept thinking that this was as easterly as I could go on the train and still remain on the main land of the Americas. The trip back to Montreal was as interesting as the trip out. This time I changed trains and went down through Ontario  to Windsor, crossed the border- using a cab, this was way before the border crossing required much more than a drivers license, where the only thing they seemed to be interested in was how long was I in Canada and what did I buy. Then I stopped in Detroit over night and continued on to Chicago.

Once in Chicago, I was again in La Salle Street Station, I was not aware of it but this station was about to be taken down and replaced with a commuter station without any of the old charm of the old building.  And, also the same was for the Rock Island Railroad, it was on its last legs. Passenger service had been trunchiated to one train in the morning to Chicago and one in the evening, even then it was not operated by Rock Island but by a private company using the tracks of the old railroad.

The train consisted of an engine, baggage/ mail car and “Big Ben” the last of the elegant dining/observation cars. The major attraction of the ride was breakfast going to and dinner coming back included in your fare. The trip back was fairly slow because of the condition of the tracks, which had been deteriorating for years and were just barely passable. But slow and easy made for a very relaxing ride and dinner was always served in the old way by two stewards. As I remember, it was a very nice filet, baked potato, side vegetables and coffee/ and or wine. When I had finished my dinner one of the stewards offered ” dessert,” another filet and potato and who was I to refuse the offer. It was one of the most remarkable dinners I ever had on a train.

 

Continue reading The Grand Train Trip-part the Eighth

One lasting memory of the Railroad and me is and was the trip to the induction center in Chicago to join the Army. Most of the year 1957 was a loss. I remember very little of it. Except for a multitude of jobs that lasted but for a few weeks. I was still trying to understand the idea of “work” and not making a very good show of it. So in July in an idle moment while at the Rock Island County Fair I stopped to talk to the Army Recuiter just to find out what was available and what sort of obligation  would be required of me. I was aware that since I was not in school or had a “real” job that the draft was breathing down my neck and I was eventually would be drafted. So in December I notified the recruiter that I would join up. He came by and had me sign the papers and take a typing test, which I barely passed. He told me that I would be called up in January so I could make my chosen school after basic training. In the first week of  the new year he delivered my orders and on the 26th of Janunary I was at the Moline depot for the 6:30 Rocket to Chicago. I was the only one on the platform , except for my father who had taken me down to the depot. We shook hands and I got on. As I remember now, the train was fairly empty and when we got to Chicago I walked from LaSalle street station over to Canal street. The streets were slushy from one more winter snow. The induction center was a large windowless building where I spent all day being examined, tested and made sure I was fit for the Army.

We were fed lunch and dinner at the center. Then about 7:00pm, after the swearing in ceremony, we were all rounded up and marched to Union Station. There we were told to go to the USO and wait for our train to St. Louis. The group of guys I was with were mostly from Cicero and lower Cook County.( By that time, two of our companions had gone AWOL and the MPs were looking for them- it turned out that they had just made a stop at a bar!) Once we got on the train which was made up of old sleeping cars from the Illinois Central Railroad, card games broke out. It was obvious that the seats would not be made up into berths so we were going to be on our own as far as sleeping. Coats were rolled into makeshift pillows and we bumped our way down state.

When we got to St. Louis we were taken off the train and into the depot restaurant for breakfast, as I remember was scrambled powered eggs , toast and coffee.  We were then loaded back on to another train and we backed into Ft. Leonard Wood. But this time there was an abnormal amount of men in dress uniforms. We arrived on a siding well inside the fort. As we were taken off the train the whole platform was surrounded by MPs ( Military Police) The train had been transporting the payroll for the entire base! We, the recruits, were marched to buses where we moved to the”reception center” for processing. That is where I learned one lesson about “volunteering” but that is a story for another place and time.

Although this is going to read like fiction it’s true. When I was about 8 years old my aunt and uncle put me on a train and sent me to visit my family in Moline, by myself! I am not sure that most parents or guardians would do this today but off I went from Pontiac to Moline. It sounds, now, like it was so casual, but I was thoroughly briefed for several weeks before. I suppose that there might have been many letters and phone calls before this was even planned between my Aunt and  her sister, my Mother. I just was not in on that part of the planning.

So one morning I was taken to the train station in Pontiac, dressed in my Sunday best and with my little cardboard suit case with newly washed, carefully folded clothes for the trip. My Uncle, who was always a meticulous man, had gone over the details with me for several weeks. No lists for him, he made sure that I was rehearsed in all the fine points of the tickets, what I should do in Chicago at the point of changing trains, especially if my Father was not there to meet me, what I was to do on the train, all the details. And made sure that I could recite them back to him and not forget anything. Standing bravely on the station platform with my tickets in one hand and suitcase in the other, I looked back at my aunt and uncle who waved to me, showed the conductor my ticket and he said, “Right, young man, up the stairs and to your left?” I got on and found my seat and looked out the window as the train pulled away. I know I waved to my aunt and uncle and tried to look brave. Soon the conductor came and punched my ticket, pointed out the transfer tickets in Chicago and gave me back the rest of the ticket to continue to Moline. I remember a nice lady with her son across the aisle who was very surprised I was traveling by myself.

About an hour in to the trip, shortly after the train had made the stop at the Durand crossing, one of the stewards came through and announced that lunch was served in the dining car. Now I had been filled in on this business and my uncle had made sure that I had some money to have a bit of lunch and so I marched to the dining car and was seated immediately, but by myself. I very carefully went through the process of writing in my best penmanship my desires for lunch and the Seward took the paper looked at it and said, ” yes, sir, just so!” When I was finished with lunch I was slightly confused about what I should leave for the tip as in the famous painting by Norman Rockwell but again the various briefings of my uncle had figured this out too and I left a generous tip for the steward and made my way  back to my seat.

Late in the afternoon, the conductor came through the car announcing that this was “Chicago, last stop, Chicago, this way out, do not forget your personal items.”  The train slowly went into the dark shed at Dearborn Station, pulling to a stop at end of track. I joined the people getting off the station, the nice lady from across the aisle asked if I was going to be met by someone. I replied, “Yes, my Dad! And under my breath I said, “I hope!” This was the unknown, was his train from Moline on time, did he get off work to meet me! All unknown to me but I was prepared to continue if he was not there to meet me. As we approached the big black engine, puffing and panting after the trip that always was considered to be a  scary big beast,but this time it was just an item of facination that I could look at and not be frighten by its bigness. As we approached the big sliding glass doors, I was looking for my father and there he was! I was never so glad to see anyone in my life. “Hi, son, have a good trip.” Oh yes, I sure did and then we went to get a jitney to La Salle Street Station, where we had to wait for the afternoon “Rocket”, so we had coffee and a donut at the snack bar. I don’t remember anything about the visit to Moline, what I did or even how I returned, just the adventure on the train.

On my mother’s side of the family there was a connection to the Railroad. Her father, my grandfather worked for the CRI&P as a section foreman. As such he followed the rail road up and down the line. So my Aunts and Uncles would have birth places in towns on section between Rock Island and Sheffield. The connection to the railroad then is in my blood. Although, I did not know my Grandfather as he was dead before I was born, his reputation and stories were told many times by his widow and children. From them and his long obituary, I gather he was well respected by both his employers and the men who worked with him on the section. He was a stern but fair man who required a days work for a days pay. He, like many of his co-workers was a first generation Irishman, who had looked for his fortune in the new world and found it working on the railroad. 

When my “exile” in Michigan ended and I returned to Illinois, the railroad still was attractive to me. When the mood hit me or I had been listening to the train whistles in the valley for awhile I would get on my bicycle and ride down to the railroad station and just hang out. If you stayed out of the way of things you could wile away a whole afternoon watching trains, things happening at the station, seeing how the railroad ran. You could learn that the arrival of passenger trains was always announced by a little bell in the baggage department and in the station masters office.

The railway express baggage wagons were usually out on the platform, ” Just in case! Painted in the traditional green and red of the company with a tin plate with the logo on it bolted to the front of the wagon. Although, Moline was not the end of the section, it was always where the the train would pick up its orders for the next section. The station master would run out just as the train pulled in and hand the paper work to the conductor or the engineer. Of course, you would have to have hung around awhile to see this procedure as it happened quickly and efficiently. If it was an “express” and did not stop at this station the transfer was done with a long pole with a wire on the end of it so the paper work could be passed off without stopping, ” On the run.”

There were hot summers days where, though forbidden, you could walk the tracks, smell the creosote covered “sleepers” and pick up old bent spikes and plates. But if you heard a whistle off in the distance, you knew to get off the tracks and clear from the right a way, fast, so as to be safe and out of the way!