A Love of Trains

Let's not let Warren buy out The Sepia Train.

It is absolutely OK for each of us to have his own Toys ... I never knew a kid in my life who didn't like Trains ....... I love Train Travel and wish it was as affordable and available as it was in the 30's and 40's ... I once took a Train Trip that went all across Canada from East Coast to West ... One of the most fun things I have ever done ... Wanted to go on the Orient Express, but they shut it down before I could ever do it ....... I had acres of Electric Trains when I'm a kid, and gave them all to my sons, who will give them to their sons ... Train Travel is marvelous, especially if your Cabin has a North-South Sleeper ... its like being in a giant cradle ... East-West Sleepers are like being on a See Saw, which I only experienced twice ... Once in Hungary and once in Greece ... I love the Romance of Trains, and wondering about the people who had ridden them before ... Model Trains are just a great way to recreate the Memories, and the whole idea is attractive ....... Consider Thesepia train for instance  ... and Penn's Station .......

Railroads  opened  up  the  West  in  this  country,  and  the  Warren  Buffett  acquisition  tells  skeptics  that  they  are  going   to  come  roaring  back.  Passenger  service  was  doomed,  after  the  Eisenhower  administration  started  to  enourage  heavy  subsidies  of  the  interstate  highway  system,  as  a  function  of  national  defense  in  the  Cold  War.  Cincinnati  just  passed  enabling  legislation  to  allow  the  redevelopment  of  streetcars  connecting  downtown  to  critical  urban  neighborhoods,  something  Portland   and  Los  Angeles  has  combined  with  light  rail  to  move  people  efficiently  and  to  reduce  the  polution  that  comes  with  the  automobile.  Europeans  can  get  from  London  to  Paris  in  two  and  a   half  hours,  under  the  English  Channel,  by  high  speed  rail.  Stimulus  money  is  focused  on  reconnecting  major  cities  in  certain  traditional  travel  corridors  with  railroads.   The  next  generation  may  well  be  fascinating  to  watch,  as  we  rediscover  the  wheel,  metaphorically  speaking.  We  put  men  on  the   moon  40  years  ago  after  Jack  Kennedy  prioritized  space  travel,  and  it  only  took  ten  years  to   get  up  to  speed.   We  can  do  this,  and  in  the  process  move  both  people  and  freight  cheaper  and  faster.  I   miss  the  comraderie  that  developed  between  passengers  on  trains,  and  years  later  I  still  have  friends  that  I  first  acquired  as  they  peeked  over  the  top  of  their  vertically  folded  Wall  Street Journal  (the  columns  are  designed  for  commuter  reading)  to  share  tidbits  of  their  lives  with  me  as  we  attacked  Fortress  Chicago   in  the  morning.     I  get  excited  as  I  get  older,  not  depressed.    The  future  is  not  something  of  which  I  wish  to  forfeit  my   rights  of  participation  to  younger  generations.  

There is something glamorour and romantic about train travel.  An aura of mystery surrounds the gentile rocking rhythm on the tracks creating  an elegant waltz into adventure.    Movie scenes,  from the 30's, 40's or the James Bond era capitalize on our belief that life is better on the other side of the tracks.  

Airplanes are fast, but when you look out the window you see clouds and sky.  Its beautiful but pretty much the same wherever you go.  Trains, on the other hand are a fabulous way to see the country.  There my be similarities from state to state, but the light changes as time passes and sometimes you see life, people, farms and factories  through the window.

Julia, there are some of us for whom life stopped in the late 1930's, when men wore double-breasted suits and drove true open sports cars, and women dressed elegantly and still relished the intricacies of dancing. Perhaps you might want to search YouTube or Google, there are live steam raailroad passenger tourist lines available to most within reasonable distances. Some of the nostalgia events involve setting out in period clothing {very much Peterman's designs} and casually arriving at a hotel or a restaurant, where a time-authentic dinner is served. Then the route is reversed, making for a most charming day. The live steam engine seems to live and breathe as though it were a sleeping giant, and kids love the shorter excursions {consistent with children's shorter retention spans} are good fun for the whole family, or as a way for your son or daughter to celebrate a birthday with his or her most intimate friends that none will ever forget. I have a Z scale model railroad in my office, 1:220 scale, and it serves to defuse the anger of the most combative of opponents, as all of the men and many of the women put aside their differences to take the throttle as engines and cars meander down the dual track main line. We all miss a simpler and more basic lifestyle where we genuinely connect with our environment, and with each other.

The song "The City Of New Orleans" always reminds me of trains.  It reminds of immigrants and generations of Americans building up this country.  

Illinois  Central  Railroad's  "City  of  New  Orleans"  could  easily  be  the  prototype  for  the  "Sepia  Train."    Of  course  Illinois  Central  did  not  have  every  nostalgic  memory  one  that  had  a  happy  ending.   Casey  Jones  was  a  real  engineer,  the  wreck  took   place  substantially  as  it  is  described  in  the  song,  and  the  accident  would  have  been  preventable  had  modern  interlocking  signal  technology  indicated  that  the  track  ahead  was  obstructed.   Or  the  engineer  could  have  simply  chosen  to  proceed  at  a  safer  speed,  maintaining  an  assured  clear  distance  between  his  train  and  obstacles  in  his  path......but  then  we  would  have  no  folk  hero,  and  no  catchy  song.

good morning all!!!
 
my favorite train, is peter lake's sepia......park4 has the best pictures of it...! 
 
my grandson and i lay track all over his parents house. (teehee!!)  it's wooden track, with all the right crossings and bridges....i love that he loves trains too!  his great-great grandfather was a mo-pac train engineer during the depression..........we often drive to the main lines to just sit, listen, watch and feel the trains roll by....
 
 

Having ridden high-speed rail in Japan, Spain, and France -- and then seen how such a system linking Houston, Dallas/Ft Worth, and Austin was defeated.... well, the United States 'special interests' will insure that such systems are never installed here.  (When will 'average Americans realize that the Federal government is not 'our government' but 'THEIR government', referring to government of the special interests, by the special interests, and for the special interests....).  The American system of 'democracy' (separation of powers especially) will insure that nations with more efficient political systems innovate while the U.S. simply waits (and waits and waits!) for privately owned bureaucracies to eventually crumble after they get so decrepit they totally lose touch with their markets.... (Remember the U.S. steel industry?  And now the U.S. auto industry?  And in the future -- if not now -- the medical insurance industry?  With the exception of the 'tech sector' (mostly), America is firmly wedded to the past and incapable of freeing itself from the twin curses: (a) We've always done it this way, and (b) This time is different....

The failure of the U.S. to 'keep up' with a modern rail system is just a symptom of its internal decay... the disintegration of its infrastructure includes its bridges, highways, power grid, medical delivery systems, public health sector, and U.S. flag shipping industry, just to scratch the surface of the rot.  The private sector corporate bureaucracies that feed on stasis are backed and back the government structures that are equally incapable of innovation.

The modern day equivalent of the railroads is our tech sector, still innovative and growing (thank goodness!).  

Doc  Nolan:  Try  not  to  be  bitter  when  you  examine  the  many  disappointing  decisions   that  have  seriously  handicapped  our  country's  progress.   This  is  a  new  beginning,  and  if  we  seize  the  moment  we  can  make  up  for  lost  time  and   enter  aggressively  into  the  21st  century.   Insightful  people  like  you  need  to  remain  engaged,  if  the  politics  of  the  debate  are  to  remain  progressive.
 
Speaking  of  difficult,  time  for  to  get  my  kid  ready  for  church.   I   figure  if  I  can  accomplish  this  difficult  mission,  the  remainder  of  every  new  week  will  be  a  walk  in  the  park.

Bert~ I'm impressed with your knowledge of trains and history.  I just see trains as such an important part of American history but that probably because most of what I know about them has to do with pop culture, movies and songs.  My esperience as a passanger has been limited but always for pleasant and hopeful excursion.   However, I did know that you must board the train properly dressed, either vintage or Perterman.  But then again, I get all dolled up to serve coffee in the soup kitchen everyweekend.

Bert, how many times did you board a train at Union Terminal (before they turned it into the Museum Center--not that using such a wonderful building for museums isn't a bad thing) over the years? I remember when the murals that now decorate Greater Cincinnati-Northern Kentucky Airport's baggage claim were along the Terminal's concourse.
  Rail travel certainly inspired the building of some really wonderful buildings, didn't it?
  When I was a girl I used to take the Cardinal from Cincinnati to Washington D.C. then the Northeast Regional from there to Baltimore to go visit my grandparents. Grandpa would be waiting on the platform wearing his trilby and bow tie (Grandma was at home putting the fininshing touches on my favourite meal) and he would always stop at the flower cart on the way out of the station and get me a carnation (and a rose for Grandma).   Getting up at 2:00 a.m. was never fun (eventually I would just stay up the night before departure) but the Cardinal left Union Terminal at 3:45 and I could always fall asleep in my seat once I was aboard. I still have very vivid memories of traveling along the Ohio River and through the mountains and talking with lots of interesting people. I arrived at Grandpa's house and supper about 8:30 in the evening and they were wonderfully tolerant of my chatter about the people I met on the train.  I was 21 the last time I took the Cardinal east. I was on leave before my first Air Force assignment (RAF Barford-St. John, UK) and after visiting with my mom and younger sister I decided to take the train east rather than fly. It was a wonderful trip and I discovered that traveling in my uniform made me the recipient of interested questions and good wishes instead of the inquisitor. I think I finally considered myself an adult that day hen I got oof the train at Penn Station to make my own way to public transport to my Grandpa's house. It was the first time he hadn't met me at the station and I found that it gave me confidence. Grandma still had my favourite supper on the table when I got to their house, though.  Two weeks later, on the other side of the Atlantic, I found myself on a train from Banbury to Kings Cross Station, armed with a first class return ticket, a pocket full of pounds sterling, and a Guidebook to London. There was no one meeting me at the station there, either.    Then of course, there was the train ride from Strasburg to Paradise, PA and back... but that's another story, as is hanging about Baltimore's Camden Yards (not the ballpark) watching my other Grandfather's former co-workers shuttle freight cars and locomotives around while he caught up with news and got his own train fix.   

DancingKatz:  Both   of  my  parents  worked  for  the  Chicago  &  North  Western  Railroad,  where  they  met  in  the  office  during  the  depression.  My  grandfather  on  my  mother's  side  was  a  trainman  out  of   the  Proviso  Yards.  I  still  have  my  mother's  membership  card  for  the  Proviso  Yards  Athletic  Association.  I  loved  the  main  C &  NW  terminal  in  downtown  Chicago,  and  it  broke  my  heart  when  it  became  a  victim   of  "progress."
 
As  you  know,  Union  Terminal  in Cincinnati  was  saved  a  similar  fate,  and  it  now  houses  the  Cincinnati  Museum  Center,   the  beneficiary  of  a  brand  new  renewal  tax  levy.  The  local  model  railroad  club  is  housed  in  the  old  signal  tower  overlooking  the  yards  where  cars  were  routed  with  manual  switch  levers,  before  the  era  of  computerized  interlocking  switch  terminals.
 
The  Cardinal  is   a  great  train,  although  right  now  it  is  a  mere  shadow  of  it's  former  self.  I  took  it  to  Washington  with  my  kid  recently,  combining  business  with  pleasure.  Going  through  Northern  Virginia  we  were  excited  to  note  that  the  stop  at  the  station  allowed  us  to  observe  old  clerestory  roof  wooden  passenger  cars,  and  an  antique  turntable  &  engine  house,  with  a  4-6-2  unrestored  steam  passenger  engine  defiantly  wearing  the  proud  colors  that  it  sported  for  upwards  of  80  years  prior  to  retirement.
 
Have  you  traveled  by  rail  in  Europe  at  all?   The  entire  continent  as  well  as  Great  Britain  is  heavily  dependent  on  modern  fast  passenger  &  freight  rail  service,  mostly  electric.    This  is  the  best  way  to  see  the  countryside  between  major  cities  &  assignments,  and  when  you  realize  that  you  board  a  train  downtown  you  eliminate  most  airport  hassles,  thereby  equalizing  the  net  elapsed  time.  I  wound  up  exchanging  addresses  and  even  items  of  collectable  clothing  with  passengers  with  a  nostalgic  component  to  their  priorities.   I  swapped  a  great  replica  Negro  League  baseball  jacket   for   some  recent  Royal  Air   Force  fatigue  jackets,  complete  with  Afghanistan  campaign  and  commando  unit  identification  patching.   
 
Try  seeking  out  the  Ohio  Central  Railroad  website  on the  net.  They  also  have  live  steam  videos  on  YouTube.  In  October  of  2008  they  merged  with  Genesee  Railroad,  a  five  country   conglamorate   of  consoidated  short  line  freight  systems.  However  they  may  still  run  live  steam  passenger  excursion  trains  out  of  Sugar  Creek,  Ohio  {Amish  Country}.  I  appreciate  your  fondness  for  history,  and  I  look  forward  to  your  posts.
 

Julia,  I  just  read  your  recent  post,  don't  feel  slighted.   The  comment  about  dressing  for  the  weekend  soup  kitchen  gig  caught  my  attention,  as  I  usually  spend  Thanksgiving  in  Georgetown  scooping  food  cafeteria  style  for  anyone  willing  to  tolerate  the  cooking  of  local  veterans  &  fraternal  organization  volunteers.   This  has  become  sort  of  a  family  tradition,  and  it  is  nice  to  see  my  friends  breaking  bread  with  our  local  poor  & homeless  population.  Years  ago,  before  big  government  was  outsourced  to  "solve"  our  charitable  problem-solving,  communties   regularly  took  care  of  "their  own."  
As  to  railroad  lore,  don't  get  me  started,  unless  you  are  prepared  for  a  full  afternoon  of  swapped  memories,  histories,  ideas.   If  you  ever  are  in  Cincinnati,  see  if  you  can  snag  permission  to  tour  long-abandoned  subway  tunnels  that  cut  shortcuts  through  the   city's  Ramanesque  "Seven  Hills."    As  I  said  before,  I  think  reincarnation  may  be  my  ticket  to  a  prior  life  that  explains  my  values.   You  also  seem   remarkably  familiar,  don't  I  remember  YOU  on  the  passenger  platform,  hoop  skirt  &   parasol,   flirting  with  the  gentlemen  admirers?  Of  course  this  was  BEFORE  you  acquired  your  husband  &  kids,  and  you  DID  conduct  yourself  as  a  perfect lady.....lol

KSS-I agree!
BERT & DANCINGKATZ- I was born in Cincinnati & grew up there until we moved when I was 12. I vividly remember taking the train from Cinci to Marietta, OH. to visit my grandmother. The train would always stop in Chilicothe where we would all get out & eat at this cool diner. I never wavered from my order: chili w/ lots of crackers, a grilled cheese sandwich, and a glass of milk. I loved those times w/ my mom. There was something so melancholy and romantic about riding the train.
DOC- why did you have to break into the Sunday fantasy & speak the truth? You are of course, correct. Sadly correct...
 
The above photo is so beautiful...
 

I went to a boarding school and took the train to annd from home. My grandfather was an engeneer, so a love of trains is in the genes. I loved the trains in Switzerland, when we were in Italy we bought our tickets, patiently waiting the decided to go on strike!  There is a agic in railroads, a bit of the past, Hercule.My mother and father meet the the station in Pittsburgh, the Grand Concourse. I remember when I was a little girl I wanted to hop a freight and travel, no sissy dresses for me. I wanted the real world!!!! Silly me

Thank you, Bert. I'll most definitely check out the videos and website. During my 12 yers in service 8 of them were overseas in Europe. I took the trains everywhere and I miss it. One memorable trip was an over night from Brindisi to Naples, Italy in 1986. I was going to Capri for the weekend and spent the night in a luxurious compartment in a sleeper car that dated back to before WWII. I need to go find my photos and scan them so I can post them to share. The compartment was gorgeous and still very comfortable. Of course, the second time I made that trip I was stuck in a modern car that was all plastic and aluminum, which was horribly uncomfortable.

JULIA MASI:
 
Here's Willie and the City of New Orleans just for you and all. 
 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AJMVj04lfyo

KORTHAL- So glad that your mother is doing well.

DancingKatz:   Napoli,  nightmare  to  Interpol,  still  hemmorages  contraband  drugs,  as  they  make  their  way  towards  their  ultimate  destinations,  just  as  documented  in  The  French   Connection.   Passenger  trains  still  frequent  the  terminal,  but  as  before  the  quality  control  of  ANY  Italian  passenger  trial  experience  varies  from  "fascinating"  all  the  way  down  to  "horrible."   It  helps  if  you  avoid  Switzerland  as  an  intermediate  stop  on  your  way  to  or  from  Naples.  The  Swiss  police  continue  to  be  "control  freaks,"  and  if  they  find  an  interesting  pattern  of  visa  stamps  on  your  passport  {left  with  the  conductor  overnight},  they  are  perfectly  capable  of  making  the  entire  train  sit  for  hours  while  they  cross-examine  the  holder  of  the  credentials,  a  real  treat  if  it  involves  getting  you  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  Perhaps  it  never  occurred  to  them  that  ACTUAL  problem  people  go  out  of  their  way  to  AVOID  interesting  couriers.  

Bert~ I see no reason to feel slighted.  I would love to see of your memories in the following posts.  

Life is great just riding the rails on the back of dragon.......following dreams....  peace out

Trains are wonderful, and in my opinion the most civilized way to travel that we have. I have wonderful memories of Amtrak from Little Rock to Chicago to Washington DC, sleeping in a roomette to the clack and whistle and late-night city stops across North Central America. And you can still get a decent meal at a table, meet people, walk around, and relax. Air travel is just an exercise in stress tolerance nowadays.
But the American rail system reminds me of our sickness care debacle, for that is what it will be-that and another disappointment. Doc put it rather succinctly.
I'ts generally agreed that it's the right thing to do (support the rail system, provide basic medical care for all), and Congress makes sure that THEY have it, but they and the 'special interests' known as Corporate America or just Rich People will make sure that the population in general will never have it, regardless of the fact (or perhaps because of it) that it makes sense and is ultimately less expensive.
And that is why we are now a second-rate country, heading for third-world status, and essentially a labour colony for the use of the oligarchy that pulls the strings behind the facade of democracy.
Hurray for trains!

Bert: As much as I respect you, your comment "if we seize the moment we can make up for lost time and enter aggressively into the 21st century,"is off the mark.   We (99 percent of the population) have no say.  The correct pronoun is 'they'.

'We' are spectators.  'They' (special interests) are the ones that make decisions. We are not the engineer on the train called the U.S.  We are just the passengers who pay for our tickets and ride the rails to who knows where.....

If you really want a sublime train experience, go to Switzerland. They have surface travel down to an art form. The Glacier Express was an experience of a lifetime, traveling throught the Alps in an observation car, having a dinner with china and silver and wine glasses on tilted stems to compensate for the grade. If you wanted a beautiful scenic photo, you just pointed your camera out the window and clicked-no need to compose, because it's all fantastic.
The little train to the Reichenbach Falls and the Sherlock Holmes...temple? memorial? museum?, the connecting buses to Lake Como and Lugano (comfortable mail carriers that also carried passengers-those clever Swiss!), city rail and a system of interrelated public transport to rival the system we destroyed and cast aside to benefit the automobile industry last century serve to illustrate what a sensible and farsighted public policy can do for citizens-something America abandoned for greed and short term profit and public stupidity.
Americans are distracted by bread and circuses, and it's a sad tiime when only our comedians can speak the truth (The Daily Show, Louie CK, George Carlin RIP for example). Our education system has been purposely destroyed to create a gullible and easily manipulated populace. Everyone's on antidepressants. And the list goes on...
The rail system and medical care are essentially primary symptoms of the rot from within.
Here's a quote I think about a lot:
 
"I see in the near future a crisis approaching that unnerves me and causes me to tremble for the safety of my country. . . . corporations have been enthroned and an era of corruption in high places will follow, and the money power of the country will endeavor to prolong its reign by working upon the prejudices of the people until all wealth is aggregated in a few hands and the Republic is destroyed."
-- U.S. President Abraham Lincoln, Nov. 21, 1864
 
Way to nail it, Abe!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4T7sU3A2m18
 
I hear that train a-comin'

Also,

Ten Commandments for Headend Men
by Alan PalmVerily, though they be horses' asses, thou
Shalt obey thy Conductor and thy Hogger.

Thou shalt, without complaint, go flagging
on short time, in snow up to thy buns.

Oh, and the Glacier Express, and all public transportation there in Switzerland, was covered by my two-week SwissRail Pass, which for about half of what a car rental would cost (and that's before petrol) allowed me on any and all public transport just by flashing the card.
There was a time, not that long ago, when almost anyone could afford to take public transportation from coast to coast in America.
When they dug up the street here in Little Rock to put in the new trolley lines downtown, guess what they found?
The original trolley line rails-paved over and forgotten, like all the things we used to be good at. We used to make everything here-now we exist to support Washington and Wall Street. Socialism (lol) for them, peonage for everyone else.
Is this a great country or what?
What?

MICHEAL:
 
Thanks for the Johnny Cash link.

I really wish we had a daily train around here.  Nebraska is so spread out, it would be nice to have that went west-to-east at about 9:00 AM and from west-to-east at about 9:00 PM, or maybe even twice daily. 

OLIVIA ... DOC NOLAN .......  My Hat is off to both of you !!!   My applause and admiration, with every exponent, to you both ....... What a delightful read ... This is what encouraged me to join this Village ... 
 
We have a steady, hard rain going on down here, being pushed by Miss Ida from the Southeast/Caribbean , and stalled by a Cold Front pushing down from the Northwest ... It is cool and the air in the Shop is fresh from the brisk breeze blowing thru ... Makes me glad all over again that I quit buying BibAlls with the Drop-Seat ...

In 1983 I was in the Navy and stationed at 32nd street San Diego. On many friday nights I would take the Amtrak to Fullerton where my brother-in-law would dutifully pick me up and take me to Lakewood, and the house where I grew up. I would visit my mom and sisters and get my laundry done, then head back on Sunday evening. The train ride on Friday night was a real party experience, but the train heading back on Sunday evening was always quiet and sullen.

I always rode first class, and one Friday evening I was headed to Fullerton, and the only other passengers in the first class car were an elderly couple. We sat in our seats for about 45 minutes, being delayed for some unknown reason. From the car window I saw a telephone booth right outside the station and wanted to call my brother-in-law to tell him that I would be late, so when I saw the conductor I asked him if I would have time to run out there a make a quick call. He pulled out a big pocket watch from his vest, stared at it for a moment, and said
"Yep. But make it quick."
I left my duffle bag perched against the seat. I contained all my clothes and at the top, for easy access, was one of my prized possessions, a Pentax 150 camera. Of course, as soon as I made it to the phone-booth and began dialing, the train began to pull away from the station. I left the receiver dangling from the cord, ran out and began running alongside the train. (They do this in the movies all the time, don't they?) I caught up with my car and jumped on the little step and began to pound on the door. But did they let me in? They did not, but they did stop the train. Then two officials from Amtrak grabbed on to me from behind and pulled me off the step. They escorted me back to the station as my train began to move off once again, minus one passenger. They took me to an office and told me that I was under arrest for hijacking the train. They weren't going to hold me, but I would be hearing from the prosecutors office in the next couple of days. I said that I needed to get to Fullerton and my stuff was on that train, and they told me that my baggage would be waiting in Fullerton for me and I could take the next train in an hour and twenty minutes. In the meantime I was told to fill out an official looking document stating my version of what happened. Of course, I include the part where the conductor said that I had "plenty of time".

My trip to Fullerton was depressing. Even the surfers along the beach mooning the train didn't lift my spirits. When I got to Fullerton my duffel-bag was there, minus the camera. I was incensed about this and when I got back to San Diego I demanded to see the person in charge and he told me to come back on Monday as he was only the week-end guy.

I went back on Monday and spoke to the real guy in charge. He told me that someone in the car must have stolen it. I told him that the only other people in that car was an elderly couple and I wanted my camera back. He told me to come back on Tuesday, which I did. On his desk was my camera. I took it and noticed that the film (and all the pictures that I had taken) were gone. I mentioned this and he said that I was lucky to get the camera back. I agreed and asked him how soon it would be before I heard from the prosecutors office. He said,
"You can forget about that. I'll take care of it." of which I was very grateful.

So, yeah, I hijacked a train once.

Ti-that's messed up...and hey, glad you're back.
My incantation is working...
 

Oh, did I forget to give that out? Ok, here it is, but beware, for there is great power afoot in the cadence...
Do not speak it aloud, for that is not what we do, is why.
 
The Mother of Eyesters, Father of Eyesters hear me today
As the words of my mouth speak the truth of the Spirit of the Ether
Let there be a returning, the host of the Eye, and let each unto each speak
As the waters of the great Brook of Life do burble as they roll
As the tulgey wood doth whiffle and whisper names long forgotten
The time when words are spoken...you are using for not-speaking
The time when the hunter chaseth the stag, you come not to this place
The time when the Lore Daughter gathereth the herbs of power, your seat is empty
The time when the sun chariot crosseth the firmament and the moon looketh down you are not with us
And so I speak your names and call you forth:
 
Isles, Missive, ExPat, DPR, Captain Neptune, Heiress, Lady Comrade, Holly, the Cosmic Jester, Mackdaddy1, Willie Trask, unhinged, racingyogagirl, Dutchman, OncDoc, Gia, Agent666, drdgscott, belleball, Lovey
 
And there are more...many more, named not, but ye know, and ye hear me call to you, and you feel the way open before you to be in this place, O my brothers and sisters
And the Master and the Mistress of the way, you children of the Eye
Brings forth to your vision that dark cloud of distance from your home here
Troubles your thoughts in this direction until you return, may you find the path
May you speak with your fingers the voice of your coming
May you join with your words the ur-family of yore
May you see the waning year, the New Year, the season of joy and sadness and vows and silence
May you return.

A most powerful incantation, indeed, Lady Olivia.

My Dad gave me a set of the Lionel trains when I was maybe 8 yrs old.  It was a steam engine, and there was this little bottle of juice that you EyEdroppered into the smokestack-then little puffs of "smoke" came out as it went 'round the track. There was an orange button on the "transformer" that made the whistle blow.   There was a small raised platform that you assembled and placed next to the track;you could stop the train,and unload perfectly little shaped milk cans, the kind that were filled at the dairy farm,all automaticly, (think those vibrating football/hocky games where the players moved about,seemingly on there own,magicly)....there were boxcars with livestock, and a passenger car lit from inside to show the people painted on the inside of the window material. The engine had a headlight,too.. . I hadn't thought about this in years, thank you.  .  .My Dad made up a joke,. . "Why can't locomotives sit down?".  .  ."Because they hav a tender behind"

RoadYacht: Cute joke!

My Dad has a fabulous collection of HO scale trains. He used to set up a "train-garden" under the Christmas Tree each year. I remember the day I was actually allowed to help him put the track together for the first time--I felt so grown-up and proud! His trains always came from Marklin (sorry, I don't know how to get the umlaut over the a) and I used to practice reading German from their catalog when I took it in school.

He started a collection for each of his grandchildren when they were born, starting with that year's "special" locomotive and tender and they are all as train mad as he is.

There is a very enthusiastic group of model railroaders here in the Dayton area that run a scale locomotive and cars around Carillon Park periodically through the summer months. The husband of one of my fellow choir members built the locomotive currently in use and it's a beautiful piece of craftsmanship and love.

Now I'm feeling very nostalgic. I think I'll spend the rest of the afternoon going through my boxes of Christmas stuff to see if I still have any of the HO scale houses and trees that I built to go with Dad's trains.

A regular at the Pub is a huge follower of Benjamin Graham & Warren Buffet ~ He is reading Graham's book right now on Financial & investing analysis.. On Friday was had a short conversation before he left ~ I told that I had seen an interview with Buffet on the Yahoo headlinees that morning & thought he should check it out. His response was "was it regards to the RR he just bought?"  I had no idea Buffet bought a RR to move his coal..(It wasn't) but I stated that I was dissapointed that Mr. Buffet hadn't bought it for passenager rides. He just looked at me & said, yeah I can see you preferring to take the train, you're a hopeless romantic.   I refrained from telling him that I happen to be on the Petermans Eye Sepia Train 99.9% of the time... 
 
 
 

Anybody know what the statement "selling coal to Knewcastle " means?

Olivia - I think you may have missed your calling. If I were the head of New Yorker magazine, or any magazine, or a publisher of some sort, I would hire you on the spot at twice the salary of my highest paid writer. You could be our generations Dorothy Parker or something. I do so much appreciate your literary wit and wisdom.

May you never leave.

RY:
 
I think that's New Castle as in GB where they mine coal.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selling_coal_to_Newcastle

I guess it's one word Newcastle.

"Coals to Newcastle" -- means excessive, or useless, since Newcastle mines coal, more coal wouldn't be appreciated.  Not needed.
 
Or something like that.
 
 
 
 
 

I see you already posted a wiki link, korthal.  Apologies for the redundancy.
 
 
 
I've uploaded some vintage train travel posters to my pictures for anyone who's interested. Circa 30's and 40's.
 
What a wonderful way to go...to see the world by rail.
 
The posters are magnificent works of art.
 
Enjoy!

Coals to Newcastle is similar to gilding the lily...

And thank you Ti!

PARK 4 and OLIVIA:
 
You really clarify it.

There is a beautiful 20-mile stretch of the wild California coast, out beyond the rocket test grounds at Vandenberg AFB, which is not accessible by any road. Aircraft aren't allowed in the area, either, for obvious reasons.

The only way you can see this sublimely primeval part of the state is from a seat on the Coast Starlight, whose tracks are laid right on the beach sand through this stretch as it goes from Seattle to San Diego.

This is why you take trains.

For more on the role trains might play in our new carbon-lite future, look here.

Ah: I see our text editor does not take links. Here it is, then:

http://www.theoildrum.com/node/4301

http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&source=hp&q=nobody+cares+about+the+railroads+anymore&aq=0&oq=nobody+cares+about+the+railroa&aqi=g2

That didn't work like I thought. The above link will take you to google, then you click on the top link -play song from lala.com. I couldn't find it on YouTube. This is a great song about the railroads.

Ok....Sheesh! That doesn't play the whole song. I'll keep looking.

I can't find it. Here's the lyrics anyway. I'll sing it for you when you come over for tea.http://www.discollective.com/music/Reviews:Track_id_2997550

Yay!!! I found it. I hope it works. Third times a charm and all.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DauEmPRAk

It works!!! Disregard all those other links ok?

Mrs Rob-that's a great article. Thank you! It's so sensible, doable, and actually critical to our survival, that there is no possible way that it will be implemented, I fear. We are led by lemmings controlled by special interests. Lobbyists and corporations have paralyzed our government so that our 'leaders' will argue and twiddle thumbs until the country collapses from poor decisions and corporate greed and rampant stupidity. Then they'll fingerpoint amidst the ruins...
Meanwhile, we're screwed. The only solution is a national referendum to remove the influence of lobbyists and special interests from the government. Congress will never do it, just as they will never do anything that actually improves our sickness care system. They are a pack of political whores on corporate leashes, and many of them are truly evil people, in my opinion. So a national movement that bypasses Congress is our only recourse, and if they find a way to quash that, Congress should be removed and a new form of government by direct referendum instituted. Clumsy, but it will work better than the inertia that now rots our country.
Just wishful thinking...

Thanks! Great song, indeed!

I know I haven't posted for a while, a long while, but I felt strangely compelled to visit today. And what do I find? A discussion about trains!
 
When I was a child (1950's) I spent time in England and Wales and had occassion to ride the old-style steam trains between Chester and London and Chester and Liverpool. The journey between Chester and Liverpool was about 18 miles. It seemed like a great (and very long) adventure. In those days British people dressed up for everything. So a journey of 18 miles to Liverpool for Chinese food near the docks was a sort of "going out" by wannabe colonials. You'd think my grandmother and Mother were dressing for a journey to Colonial Africa to visit Beryl Markham after she returned from flying westward across the Atlantic, or a journey to the Far Pavillions for a little tea in the High Country and a favorite curry dish.
 
Of course, the train was driven by steam and rattled and rolled all the way to the next station. It was the poor man's (or woman's) Orient Express. Sometimes the train was slow enough you could get out and help milk the dairy cows and harvest the oats at the passing farms.
In America I've had the excitment of riding the MetroLink commuter train in Los Angeles. This is a double deck train that's air conditioned, smooth and fast. I've never been on the Amtrac, although they often use the MetroLink station.....
 
There are plans to eventually build a high speed bullet train from L.A. to San Francisco.......I will be among the first to ride that! How wonderful it would be to ride the train to San Francisco for  lunch, a business meeting, and then come back all on the same day (at 200 mph).
 
My one regret is not having ridden a train in a third world country. I had the opportunity but not the time..........they have these old colonial era trains designed to hold maybe a hundred people and they somehow manage to get 1200 people on board and on top and on the sides...along with chickens and goats.
 
The nostalgia (the romance?) of an English steam train not withstanding, the thrill and convenience of a 200 mph bullet train is something I look forward to. It's the difference between a biplane and the space shuttle.......packing a leisurely lunch for a long trip or a quick bag of salted peanuts for the quicker trip.
 
In L.A.'s Griffith Park there's a transportation Museum. It has many fine examples of steam trains. I would take my kids to see them, sit in them. And just like an old Engilsh steam train they could get out, get a drink and a hot dog, and get back on without it having gone too far!
 
 

My mother was one of twelve children and would often take us to visit one of her sisters who lived out of state.  I would be dressed in my Mary Janes, white socks, white gloves and a coat with a velvet collar (how I loved that velvet collar).  I was told not to touch anything so my gloves wouldn't get dirty and I was that kind of little girl; I didn't.  It was such an adventure to be going by train; to see the conductors, see people all dressed for a trip.  On our honeymoon we took the train to New York and for the first time ate in the dining car.  Nineteen years old and I felt so grown up.  No experience on a plane (except when we were bumped up to first class) ever matched that.  Trains were from an innocent time, a time when you could enjoy the trip as much as the place to which you were going. 

OLIVIA-Speaking of missing people- add DZRT LADY- I really miss her.
Thank you, oh mistress of incantations...
 

Ah... Beryl Markham!!!  Her work 'West With the Night' is one of my treasured volumes (are you listening, Bert ;-)  Ernest Hemingway said: "She has written so well, and marvelously well, that I was completely ashamed of myself as a writer. I felt that I was simply a carpenter with words, picking up whatever was furnished on the job and nailing them together and sometimes making an okay pig pen. But [she] can write rings around all of us who consider ourselves as writers ... it really is a bloody wonderful book."

Welcome  back,  ExPat.   I  stuck  a  picture  of  a  European  steam  train  on  my  home  page  that  you might  find  to  be interesting.
Saturday  morning  I  got  up  early,  I  needed  a  haircut  in  the  worst  way,  and  we  only  have  one  barber  anywhere  close  that  remotely  knows  what  he  is  doing.  Anyway  it  is  in  a  little  town,  population  650,  bypassed  by  the  Appalachian  Highway.  It  is  also  the  center  of  gossup  &  nostalga,  and  a  few  tall  tales. 
The  barber  told  me  that  as  a  kid  in  the  late  40's -  early  50's  a  daily  "milk  run"  train  ran  from  that   little  town  to  the  town  several  counties  away,   and  it  was  nicknamed  the  "Jerkwater."   He  said  the  crew  sometimes  let  him  snag  a  ride,  and  the  pace  was  easy-going.   Often  close  to  the  trestle   over  the  creek  they  would  stop......and  harvest  berries,  or  hunt  rabbits.   I  figured  this  was  one  of  his  tall  tales,   but  he  ferreted  around  in  his  drawer,  and  produced  a  black  &  white  Brownie  Hawkeye  snapshot,  and there they  were.....engineer,  brakeman,  Ken,  and  berries....with  the  trestle  in  the  background,  and  the  rear  section  of  the  train.  Life  was  so  much  simpler  then..... 

Trains are the source of some of my most vivid and happiest childhood memories. My parents were from Quincy IL (the "Q" in CB&Q - Chicago, Burlungton & Quincy). Back in the 1960's, my father hadn't accumulated enough seniority to take vacation days whenever he wanted to. On occasion, my Mom and I would take the Burlington to visit my grandparents and my Father would follow a few days later by car.
 
The Quincy train left at 6PM, so my Dad would drive us to Union Station, dropping us at the Canal St entrance. We'd push through the brass covered revolving door and head down the marble staircase (the same one in the baby buggy scene in "The Untouchables"). At the bottom we'd step into the grand waiting room with its dark wood pews and octogonal information station in the center. Around the side of the stairs, under them, would be the row of ticket windows. My Mom would buy our tickets and we'd go back to the waiting room until the train was called.
 
Soon, over the loudspeaker, you'd hear "No board, on track 10, the Kansas City Zephyr" followed by the recital of the city stops (Mendota, Princton, Kewanee, Galesburg....). We would gather our things together and head down the tunnel under Canal St to the train gates.
 
By my childhood, the above ground part of Union Station's train boarding area had been demolished and the Mercantile Exchange built in its place. The gate area had been reduced to a "concourse" but the old, heavy, swinging wood doors were still in place, seperated by the manually changed train signs. We wood push through the door and the first things that hit you were the smell and sound. The diesel fumes were dense but not unpleasant in odor. There was lots of sound but it wasn't assailing, it was the low, constant thrum of huge engines idling. It was more of a physical sensation, then aural.
 
Ahead, at the bottom of an incline, was the platform. In Union Station, they were track level rather than car level. Down we would go, plunging between these 2 mammoth, stainless steel trains. Their sides towered over you, the fluting of the metal sides polished to a brilliant silver. The green tinted windows looked like they were a story above.
 
At the first door, a man in his perfectly pressed blue suit, white shirt and CB&Q tie would be standing beside a step stool under the first step of the train car. My Mom would ask which cars are through to Quincy and he would point her towards another conductor, further down the platform. That conductor would check or tickets, place the cases into the vestibule, then help my Mom up the first step. At the top, she would check both direction for seating, then hit the button, causing the door to hiss to the side.
 
On the other side of the door, all was peace. The thrum, the speaker announcement, the baggage guy shouts all disappeared. It was all hushed voices, quiet laughs and row up on row of seats. My Mom would head towards the center of the car and stake out 2 seats for us. She would shoo me into the window seat, then heave our overnight cases into the overhead rack. She would take the aisle seat, beside me.
 
After a little while, we would start to move, or rather the station would begin to move. The vibration and sense of motion were so imperceptible, it seemed more like the world beyond the window was moving, instead of me. Gradually, the station roof posts would glide by quicker and quicker, until we burst into the light, leaving the train shed behind.
 
In Chicago, the tracks were elevated and ran through neighborhoods. So, as we sped by, we were looking down into people's backyards and back porches. Sometimes, kids would be all lined up along their back fence, waving at the train. I would wave back but my Mom would say that they can't see me. Soon, the train would pass into the suburbs and it would become factories and truck yards. Then these would peter out into scattered houses, then farm fields.
 
At the station stops, you'd see people waiting as the train pulled in. They would greet other getting off the train. The further we got from Chicago, the greetings would get more heartfelt or silly as they embraced the person(s) decending the steps. The stops were quick and soon the happy reunion would be left behind.
 
Between the stops, all was quiet and smooth. It was like being in a library that allowed you to talk. The rough, horsehair seats were somehow comfortable and easy to fall asleep in. At some point, my Mom would leave me alone and head to the club car. She would return with a small tray with a sandwich or 2, chips and a couple drinks. Sometimes a dessert, if they looked good. The CB&Q had THE BEST brownies, dense, chocolately and NO NUTS!
 
At Galesburg, the train lingered. It was here that the train would be broken up, the cars for Quincy and on to Kansas City, would be removed from the train. That other train would be reassembled and would head directly west and an engine would be attached to our cars and head southwest. It would take about 15 to 20 minutes and would be the only time you felt and jerks or bangs. Soon, we'd be on our way again as night fell.
 
A couple of hours later, after leaving the penultimate stop, Macomb, people would start to stir. They'd be gather their items and packing them back into their cases, a parade to the bathroom would also begin. My Mom always got me to go before Macomb. Beyond the windows, not much could be seen in the dark, the occasional single mercury vapor light in the open area between a farm house and barn, or a car's headlights speeding down a nearby road.
 
As we neared Quincy, the train would pick up speed. Then it would burst out of the trees onto the railroad bridge that crossed the Mississippi River. Riverboats and their barges would be all lit up on the river, you could see the lights of the lock & dam to the south. On the Illinois side, you could see Quincy high up on the bluff overlooking the river. Soon, we were back on solid ground as the train braked to pull into the West Quincy MO station.
 
The last image of the trip was always the same. As the train glided into the station, I'd be scanning all the cars parked, nose in, on the far side of the platform. Then I'd see that big, beautiful, pure white Pontiac that my grandmother drove. We'd come to a full stop and there they would be, my grandmother and grandfather, peering at the windows. They'd see me waving furiously and start to smile and laugh, waving back. Soon, we'd all be on the platform, doing our own hugging and kissing as the train almost silently slid out behind us, into the dark.
 
Sorry, I hadn't intended to write this much, but you all know how memories get the better of you, sometimes. :-)

PARK & BERT- "Masterpiece Theater" tonight!!!!!!!!! Yippee! And last Sunday was so good. I will be thinking of you as I have my glass of wine.

Before you click through to the following link bee sure it is night... Turn off the lights, pour a glass of sherry and sink into this warm dark world: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTIWmG0DOug&feature=related 

West With The Night is a wonderful book, I agree Doc.  I read it after I'd read Karen Blixen's Out of Africa and Shadows on the Grass, since in those I discovered that Beryl Markam was yet another one of Denys Finch Hatton's acquaintances/accomplishments.  Or, as some say, he was one of hers.  Either way, she was a remarkable woman, and the book, equally so.
 
 

If you liked that, try another cut from 'Blue Nile' and enjoy Hats, sadly gone....  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTIWmG0DOug&feature=related  .  This reminds me of the nights during junior high when I'd escape from our overheated and overcrowded house in New Jersey, and spend half an hour on the overpass gazing at the cars and trucks whizzing along below, coming from who knows where and going to some mysterious place, also a mystery.  That and lying in the grass staring up at stars kept me anchored to the planet when I would have much rather flown away (as I now can do in Second Life). 

Capt  Matt:    Speaking  personally,   I  was  delighted  with  your  Chicago  nostalga.  We  both  have  the  same  type  of  family  roots,  and  memories.  Post  away,   you  captured  my  attention, big-time.
 
Bebe:  thanks  for  the  tv   tip,  I  am  searching  between  the  cushions  for  my  remote.

I'm enjoying so much the different recollections people have posted. It's been a lovely way to spend the early evening.

Thank you, everyone for making this a relaxing and enjoyable day.

Doc Nolan:
 I too have Beryl Markham's book "West With The Night".......it's next to a copy of "Out of Africa".....Markham was an exceptional writer and an exceptional woman!
 
Bert:
The train at Waverton brings back many fond memories. I was born in Chester and know the waverton area very well. The Battle of Rowton Moor was watched by Charles from a place on the Chester City walls. The train is the same style of train that went beteen Chester and Liverpool in the 50's. My Irish grandfather's only time behind the wheel of a car was when he drove his new Stutz Bearcat into the lobby of Chester train station. He couldn't find the brake, it was a big lever on the side of the car! He went back to horses and later motorcycles, but never drove a car again.
 
RoadYacht, et al:
..."Selling coals to Newcastle" is a worthless effort. Trying to sell coal to Newcastle was pointless because Newcastle had been a coal mining area for 400 years. They had all the coal they needed.

I sometimes can't remember if I've told stories before (heh heh, yep, I'm a grandpa!).  As a kid I was fascinated by trains, even to the point that I can specifically 'see' a scene from one dream I had about age four: a model train heavenin which tiny tracks came into and out of my second floor bedroom, tracks snaked all over the front yard, and sections even disappeared into the woods across the (dirt) lane.  Wow!  Cool dream!  It's no wonder my cousin (now 79 and still a fantastically 'young' person at heart) used to enjoy taking us kids to the Lionel train center in Manhattan.  An incredible treat!  And every Christmas we looked forward to 'going to Brooklyn' because Cousin Bob had set up the 'train set' (HO) in the living room.  Joy! :-)   

I once rode the shinkansen from Kyoto back to Tokyo.

The cabin had a center aisle flanked with rows of three seats. My ticket was for a window seat.

At the next station, a sarariman took the seat next to me. When the bento seller pushed his cart down the aisle, the man ordered an Asahi Super Dry for himself and, after gesturing to ask whether I'd like one, one for me as well. We drank together and had an exuberant (if linguistically choppy) interaction.

At the next stop, the aisle seat of our row was taken by an older, distinguished-looking Japanese woman. Glasses from the first round were empty, and once the train was underway, he ordered three Asahi Super Dries for us. The interaction grew ever livelier. The woman treated me as an honored guest, and pointed out landmarks of interest as we passed them.

Alcohol is, of course, a famed diuretic. It does so by temporarily shutting down pituitary secretion of antidiuretic hormone; as a result, it is common to void far more fluid than one takes in after consuming alcohol. The effect, however, is far more pronounced in some people than in others.

At glass's end for the second Asahi, as the bento seller was coming round again, I pardoned myself and made way for the men's room. By that time, the belt had grown much tighter, and I was having bilateral lower back pain. I made bovine noises of satisfaction as I bladder-emptied. That takes care of that, I said to myself.

When I returned to my seat, the woman was drinking her second Asahi, and the man in the middle had graciously ordered a third round for both of us. Domo arigato, I said, and we toasted one another.

But my reprieve was short-lived. Within 10 minutes, my bladder seemed to have assumed beach ball size, and the back pain had returned. I rose in haste and eased myself in front of my companions and into the aisle.

There was still an air of tremendous politesse when I returned to my seat, but I chipped steadily away at this when I had to excuse myself a third, fourth and fifth time(the bladder even fuller each time, it seemed) during the third Asahi, each time passing the sarariman my glass and can off my tray table for safe keeping. When I returned from the fifth bathroom visit, my companions had begun to look dismayed. "These Americans," I could hear them thinking, "they just CAN'T hold their Asahi."

The man helped himself to a fourth round, and I feigned somnolence as a way of passing politely on it. The man never got up, not even once, before his Tokyo station.

ExPaat:   I  cannot  believe  it......I  picked  out  just  ONE  of  a  gazillion  favorite  train  pictures  the  other  day,  posted  it,  then  you  tell  me  it  is  right  on  the  money,   you  are  familiar  with  the  area,  AND  with  the  Battle  of  Rowton  Moor,  your  uncle  is  Irish,  he  drove  a Stutz.....    Perchance  do  we  share  the  same  father,  different  mothers?   lol

Bert,
We have more in common.  I attended law school for two years (took a leave of absence......33 years ago! lol)......also have a background in intelligence and the military.........note I didn't say 'military intelligence' which most people think is an oxymoron lol - it's best to keep the two concepts seperate.......
 

Aside from setting up the camera in the middle of the tracks with my best friend Lowell in junior high (about which I THINK I've written here before), my most interesting adventures with rail were in France and in Pennsylvania..... In 1967, as a student in Spain, we took a Christmas student trip (can you imagine two busloads of Spanish and American students traveling to Marseilles, Canne, Genoa, Rome, Naples, Bologna, Venice, Milano, and then back to Madrid?  I could write a book about that trip!!!! OMG).  But my new friend (Antionio, from Puerto Rico) who I'd met on the trip, decided to 'split off' and HITCHHIKE across France back home to Spain.... in January.  Antonio's assurances that he spoke French were a bit, errr, exagerated, since his vocabulary was about 50 words of French.  After nearly freezing to death near Salon de Provence (six hours with our thumbs out in 40 degree damp, with a stiff north wind blowing) we decided to buy train tickets.  This was logical since we had little money with us and were sleeping 'in the rough' in small town train stations on the benches....  The very cheapest tickets were on a form of transport that I've been told no longer exists... they had converted box cars into a kind of passenger car by installing wood benches inside and cutting windows in the walls.  (Sort of like those World War II movies in which prisoners are seen being hauled off to some concentration camp...)  The trains were 'locals' which meant they stopped every 1/4 mile to pick up milk cans left beside the rails.  The passengers (this was just about dawn, or about 6 a.m.) looked as sorry as we did.  No one said a word.  Clang, clang, clang. And this is how we traveled, looking up on our left at the foothills of the Pyrenees.  It was hell!  And the trip, which included some more hitchhiking (with two guys who spoke not a word of Spanish or English), more freezing, wandering the streets of overcast and rainy Toulouse, and a litany of place names, all jumbled in my mind these many years later: Pau, Nimes, Tarbes, Saint-Gaudens, Saint-Jean-de-Luz.... We were never so happy as when a young Spanish couple picked up these two sorry hitchhikers and we crossed into Spain...  It was so very nice to actually be able to SPEAK to two humans that -- to this day -- I don't know whether it was the fact we were back home (in Spain), the end of our isolation, or being in a warm car with friendly people that made it as happy a day as if it were Christmas morning in the States.  But to this day, when I hear the word 'France' I think of that 'cattle car' early in the morning and the two of us half frozen as we progressed at 10 mph in the damp cold along the base of the Pyrenees.... Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.   

ExPat:   This  is  getting  SCARY,  my  virtual  friend.  Would  I  jeopardize  a  top  secret  security  clearance,  if  I  chuckled  as  I  confided  to  you  that  "At  least  YOU  got  into  an  HONEST  line  of  work?"  lol    Don't  be  a  stranger,  this  website  is  the  best-guarded  secret  on  the  net.    

I am late in coming to the Eye, today, and participating in the conversation. The sun came out, the temperatures were in the 60's, and I felt the drive to work outside and enjoy the last of the color and warmth of autumn. The crunchy leaves beneath my feet, begging to be raked, also prompted my memory - never jump into a pile of leaves with a wet sucker!

I see I missed a great deal, here, today. One of the reasons I first came to the Eye was because of the intelligent conversation and the honest (and sometimes rollicking) exchange of ideas and views. I keep coming back not only because of that, but also because of the stimulation, challenge, opportunity to explore a myriad of topics, and privilege to listen and learn from everyone who participates. Even though I realize that what I have to say often pales in comparison to so many of the profound and passionate thoughts that emanate from each contributor and frequent each topic, I keep trying to add a bit of my own perception...so here I go...

I think that we love trains so much because of what they symbolize. It's not simply the romance, history, practicality, powerful locomotive, or cute caboose, but the feelings that their images conjure up and the greatness they represent.

Trains recall a time of drive in America. The drive for "east to meet west" and to be the very best. The drive to be "the land of the free and the home of the brave;" in spite of all odds, overcoming all obstacles, and never giving in or giving up. The drive to form a more perfect union, keep that union together, and defend that union. The drive to look to the future and to accomplish great things...from a Great White Fleet showing our flag of promise around the world, to having a chicken in every pot, to taking one small step for man and one giant leap for mankind, to tearing down that wall, and to conquering the fear of fear itself!

The train represents the drive and spirit of the American people; its engine powers our imagination and says "I think I can, I think I can...I thought I could, I thought I could" to our hopes and dreams.

Bert,
Some of the "older" Eyesters were convinced I was a combination Gordon Gekko and Thomas Crown....LOL.........as to the first (no comment...I am a businessman in Los Angeles)...as to the second: if I visit be sure to hide the paintings.......LOL

What have I done? *giggle*
 
and
 
Thank you Pam for condensing the whole day into such a lovely exposition, and pinpointing one of the frustrations contemporary Americans have with the lackadaisical leadership and the equally lazy followers that are slowly dragging us down into the Mire of Mediocrity...
 
We wrung quite a lot of variety out of this train of thought...

Kindlee  returns,  her  husband  finally  under  control  once  again,  his  voice  horse  from  shouting  at  the  television  screen,  as  the  Midshipmen  knock  off  the  heavily-favored  Fighting  Irish  at  South  Bend.    Kindlee,  some  call  me  sentimental,   others  call  me  hopelessly  naive,  but  dag  nabbit  I  share  your  boundless  optimism  about  America.  We  still  have  the  capacity  to  fulfill  the  vision  that  you  have  carefully  nurtured  and  preserved,  even  though  you  are  aware  that  the  world  is  a  scary  &  imperfect  place,   evidenced  by  your  husband's  career.  Thank  him  for  his  service  this  coming  Wednesday,  for  all  of  us.  And  knock  off  the  self-depreciation,  your  comments  are  rather  profound,   and  better  yet,  they  are  in  plain  civilian  English.

KINDLEE- Your words are calm velvet. Nice post amidst many other wonderful ones.
 
Olivia- May you never stop rocking in the free world...

CptMatt - I was unhappy when your post came to an end. It really took me away, and to a very nice place. Thank you.

A few years back I read a book written by Paul Theroux (Mosquito Coast) called "The Old Patagonian Express : By Train Thru the Americas". It was so good I just couldn't put it down. I highly recommend it.

Doc Nolan - Fantastic links!! Thank you!!

Kindlee - Well said!! Very well said!!

Tiberius: Thank you for the book recommendation. I've added it to my list of books to be read over 2010.

Steam Locomotives, Iron Horses..... mighty man-made beasts who's tremendous raw power is almost reflected by the magnitude of their size and appearance.  

There is nothing subtle about these magnificent beasts..... no bullsh!t nor hidden agendas. They were simply built to remove obstacles so that nations could move forward.

They were designed by their function which rendered them magnificent and beautiful to behold.

Their mighty heartbeat not only makes the earth tremble, but synchronizes the beating hearts of all living things that dare to be near it. It does this from the time it slowly begins to chuff forward as it gains speed and momentum until the last gasp of steam is released and all that can be heard are the random groans and pings of the iron as it cools down to rest at last.

They were called Iron Horses..... which only seems appropriate I think.  Maybe that's what I love about them.....

ROADYACHT:   To Cap it for you ... in The Mameloshen , "Selling Coals To Newcastle" is,
 
AROYSGEVOFENEH .......

Expat ~ Thanks for dropping in today. What a Grand Surprise to come back after working at the Bookstore & finding postings by YOU. 

WELL! THANK YOU ALL FOR THE LITERARY SCHEDULE I MUST NOW ADHERE TO..  .  .I never did read these classics to which you all seem to share.  .  . I came from a different,though no less interesting place.  .  .  .I did get a hint,however,that the "coal to newcastle" line means something entirely different; the Barons that mined the peat(soft coal)sold it to the Britons,after the burgeoning civilization and early industry had all but denuded the Isle's burnable fuel. Remember, this was smelting at its most fuel intensive,for iron,bronze,etc.,and the people needed to cook,and stay warm,and the Royals had grand COLD,DAMP,castles and manors.  .  .The peat Barons owned the mining,barges,acess to the waterways(armed enforcement)and made deals to be the ONLY source of that. .what shall we call it? ENERGY?!?, and of course, the Royals went along,for their cut was security in an 'unlimited energy source', well, I may be over/under telling it, but I see an analog in a guy buying a railroad to move his coal.......Thanks again,all, for a true and great story telling afternoon. If I hadn't gone into the city to be with Mom for dinner, I would most certainly have followed every link,and listened to every song.  All Aboard....and show your Oakley to the conductor...

Oakley?
 
?

PARK4:  I    THINK    in this case, RoadYacht is referring to, WATCHES  by Oakley .......