Trains

My fascination with trains dates back to my original days in New York City.  One of my earliest memories is of standing on the subway platform with my dad.  I was three or four.  I still remember seeing a pair of sneakers near the edge.  So clear in my memory.  I often wonder if I merely dreamed this image.

We moved to Florida shortly after.  During my formative years I lived fairly close to railroad tracks.  The horns were loud and drove my mother crazy.  Scary to hear when close, yet oddly comforting when far away.  I especially liked hearing them late at night, while nestled in bed.  The distant approach and departures had a muted warning that just gave me some sort of unexplained reassurance.  I wrote about this on this blog several years ago.

I was visiting family in New Jersey last month and had a similar warm feeling.  The faraway horn was loyal, dedicated.  Announcing its arrival to perpetuate life.  Bring folks to their destinations.  But it's more abstract than that.  Like the night has a life of its own.  Maybe the train is some sort of metaphor for life.  I could spend hours thinking on that.

But the trains themselves have always intrigued me. Living so close to tracks that were connected to other states thrilled my young self.  How trains could be miles long also intrigued me.  A friend once joked that he wanted to spend a few months as a hobo on the old Chessie cargos, travelling the country.  That would certainly be an adventure.  Hopefully Ernest Borgnine wouldn't be waiting with a billy club.

The subway in NYC is a topic unto itself.  The daily comedy that plays out in the stations and in cars helped my rather miserable time living there in 1996 be more palatable. There is still a certain rush and excitement when I ride it, though the feeling of danger has largely dissipated in recent times.  I can still remember the graffiti on the cars back in the '70s and '80s.  The entire experience was frightening.

The NJ Transit has had its share of entertainment: beer cans rolling down the aisle, a guy who fell when the train broke hard yet never stop talking on his cell, etc.  But mainly it's fairly calm.  Far cozier than the subway, too.  I love riding it with family but also when I'm alone, watching towns fly by.  Some scenery is of industry, others new condos. The conductors' clicking of tickets is part of it.  I've found that I love walking home from the station.  Never had this experience growing up.

The Tri-Rail in South Florida came around while I was in college, linking Palm Beach, Broward, and Dade counties.  It served its purpose, but it never really felt comfortable. I took it to Bayside in Miami quite a bit in the early '90s, connecting with the Metrorail and Metro Mover in the city. Eh.  Never had the personality of the northern rails. Even the announcers were boring.  It just never had the train feeling.  But then, neither did the MARTA in Atlanta. I liked the D.C. subway system.  And the Tube in London? Boy is that a model!

You may have read about the Brightline train.  It runs the parallel route from WPB to Miami, but bypasses all the towns in between, save Ft. Lauderdale.  It is much nicer than the Tri-Rail.  Eventually it is supposed to reach Orlando.

Trains.  Always a favorite topic.  Thanks for reading.