The Grand Voyage
While checking out the Diva Drip's site the other day I cam across this picture and it reminded me not only how much I love riding the train but of the symbolism of the train in the context of a journey.
With Christmas just past one might recall the seen from It's a Wonderful Life where George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart) tells Uncle Billy that one of the three greatest sounds in the world is the sound of a train whistle. (Uncle Billy is more of a hedonistic type in that for him the greatest sounds were the call to meals). For George the train was not only part of his escape from the mundane reality of his small town life but the entrance into the great adventure of the outside world.
I don't think a car can be the same thing. A car is a tool of personal freedom. It allows the driver to get from here to there, but he or she must control the vehicle and be ever vigilant. The car is the expression of personal desire. If I want to take a trip, I need to be somewhere else, I get in the care and take myself there. While I may share the highway with my fellow man I share the journey with no one even if there are others in the car for I am the captain and pilot.
On the train or ship or plain or god forbid the bus, we are in a community of passengers. One could, if one so desired, stand and walk about the vehicle as it zooms ever onward towards the end of a Journey. On a large vessel like a train or a ship one can walk all the way to the front or the back, gaze upon the world and maybe even do a Titanic imitation ("I'm the king of the world!") You can make your way to the galley or the dining car and not eat but have a meal (though the dining car on the shorter Amtrak routes is more of a have a microwaved breakfast burrito and a plastic cup cocktail). On the plain they serve food that sometimes it may be best just to set aside while you gaze in awe at how the clouds are underneath you. On the bus well misery loves company and perhaps you and your fellow traveler can discuss the drunk or the crazy who will invariably be aboard (or if you are ever so lucky the intoxicated crazy) and in your cramped, dingy seats you all have better hopes for the promise of your destination at the end of an arduous trip.
Chicago, my home and once center of not only the shipping of the country but of all travel the waypoint on the adventure west or the stop on a pilgrimage back east, is more symbol of travel now than actual hub. Our airlines falter and every year the train services cut back a little more. No need to make the swing through the city when there are more direct routes. Even the cattle no longer come here and the stock yards are just a historical site. Our lake's ports still do business but not nearly as much and one would be hard pressed to find a person who works the docks. Rail yards are fewer as more cargo gets shipped in from over seas than across country from American manufacturers. Carl Sandburg's Chicago (two links there the first to Amazon the second to a site hosting the poem) is no more. We are now the city where people stay because that is where they were raised and have familial ties and if we knew any better would pack the whole thing up and head somewhere a little warmer. We are the Windy City. We are the a big part of the reason why Illinois is a blue state. We are no longer part of a journey.
I miss my early morning arrivals at Union Station. I miss the early evening departure and watching the lights of the small towns as the sun goes down on the plains of the state. My trips on the train were always short three hour state hops but every one an adventure.
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With Christmas just past one might recall the seen from It's a Wonderful Life where George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart) tells Uncle Billy that one of the three greatest sounds in the world is the sound of a train whistle. (Uncle Billy is more of a hedonistic type in that for him the greatest sounds were the call to meals). For George the train was not only part of his escape from the mundane reality of his small town life but the entrance into the great adventure of the outside world.
I don't think a car can be the same thing. A car is a tool of personal freedom. It allows the driver to get from here to there, but he or she must control the vehicle and be ever vigilant. The car is the expression of personal desire. If I want to take a trip, I need to be somewhere else, I get in the care and take myself there. While I may share the highway with my fellow man I share the journey with no one even if there are others in the car for I am the captain and pilot.
On the train or ship or plain or god forbid the bus, we are in a community of passengers. One could, if one so desired, stand and walk about the vehicle as it zooms ever onward towards the end of a Journey. On a large vessel like a train or a ship one can walk all the way to the front or the back, gaze upon the world and maybe even do a Titanic imitation ("I'm the king of the world!") You can make your way to the galley or the dining car and not eat but have a meal (though the dining car on the shorter Amtrak routes is more of a have a microwaved breakfast burrito and a plastic cup cocktail). On the plain they serve food that sometimes it may be best just to set aside while you gaze in awe at how the clouds are underneath you. On the bus well misery loves company and perhaps you and your fellow traveler can discuss the drunk or the crazy who will invariably be aboard (or if you are ever so lucky the intoxicated crazy) and in your cramped, dingy seats you all have better hopes for the promise of your destination at the end of an arduous trip.
Chicago, my home and once center of not only the shipping of the country but of all travel the waypoint on the adventure west or the stop on a pilgrimage back east, is more symbol of travel now than actual hub. Our airlines falter and every year the train services cut back a little more. No need to make the swing through the city when there are more direct routes. Even the cattle no longer come here and the stock yards are just a historical site. Our lake's ports still do business but not nearly as much and one would be hard pressed to find a person who works the docks. Rail yards are fewer as more cargo gets shipped in from over seas than across country from American manufacturers. Carl Sandburg's Chicago (two links there the first to Amazon the second to a site hosting the poem) is no more. We are now the city where people stay because that is where they were raised and have familial ties and if we knew any better would pack the whole thing up and head somewhere a little warmer. We are the Windy City. We are the a big part of the reason why Illinois is a blue state. We are no longer part of a journey.
I miss my early morning arrivals at Union Station. I miss the early evening departure and watching the lights of the small towns as the sun goes down on the plains of the state. My trips on the train were always short three hour state hops but every one an adventure.
More Laters
posted by Rich Rosenthal II at 9:53 AM
4 Comments:
Great blog! I used to live in New York and took a train back to Ohio for Thanksgiving. It's one of those timeless memeories - one that somehow, in some small way, bridged the gap between my grandparents' 20-something stories and my own life. I met so many interesting people in the dining car, where you're forced to sit with people you don't know due to space constraints. The route from NYC to Ohio passes along the banks of the Hudson River and creates a beautiful scene in North by Northwest (I think that was the movie...) If I had the time, train would be the only way to travel for me! However...one of the passengers that borrowed my Yo' Mamma joke book STOLE one of the pages. But I figure they needed to really bust someone's mamma more than I did. Dirty Rat!
Thanks for the blog!
I do enjoy riding the train in and out of Union station. My routine. Do the crossword, stare out the windows.
I have never been on Amtrack, my husband and I are in the process of planning a trip to San Francisco and riding the train there 2 days in and 2 days back just for the experience.
Hey, thanks for the link. I have never ridden a train more than a couple of hours at a time, but I need to do so one day.
I like Amtrak myself...I remember taking Amtrak back to college after Christmas breaks and being very aware of how any worry or problem you have in life is completely suspended while you're on a long distance train trip in a way that just doesn't happen on a plane or bus and definitely not in a car. A few times I thought to myself, "I could deal with this forever--a comfortable seat, a good book and decent scenery."
I did eventually get off the train.
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