had8ley
Engineer
Our return trip to Louisiana, on #19 (20) from Atlanta was not as eventful as our northward journey but there were some very good highlights. We stayed in a Hampton Inn immediately adjacent to Georgia Tech. It's a $10 cab ride from Peachtree station.
I awoke about 3:30 to a freezing chill. The heater was ripping and roaring but wasn't keeping up with the outside temperature. I turned it on high and then turned on the Weather Channel. I soon found out the reason for the room's frigid condition; 18 degrees is not a temp that Atlanta is used to seeing. I looked out the window and saw nary a soul or car going by which is rare in Atlanta. The only sign of any movement was steam billowing from one of the college dorms across the street.
I called Julie and was glad to hear #19 was running on time. When we arrived at the station about 7:45 there were just a few people standing around. When the train pulled in early at 8 a.m. people started showing to both pick up and drop off friends and relatives. It seems that one of the four coaches both on #19 and #20 and have been taken off and probably swung over for Silver Service in the winter. We only had one shut off coach leaving Atlanta. The Atlanta station is woefully small and was not built to be a main station. It was a suburban station much like New Carrollton until they demolished the downtown Atlanta station. Fortunately, most of the passenger traffic in Atlanta was people de-training with just about 20 people boarding for New Orleans and points south.
The Red Cap took us to our car less than 10 minutes after #19 arrived. Charles greeted us at the sleeper vestibule and was most cordial and accommodating. We went straight to the diner and were glad that it looked light years newer than the one we had on #20. Yes, it had received the face lift that most of the Heritage diners received about 7 or 8 years ago. We sat down where we chose and we could sense that the crew was an easy going bunch. It was certainly a relief after enduring the Stalag 13 LSA of the day before.
We had the Belgian waffles and French toast. Both entrees were great. I had the apple filled chicken sausage links and enjoyed them even better than the first day. Madisen, my grand daughter, had bacon with her meal and it looked to be the pre-cooked variety. She said it was good so we finished our meal and returned to our room. Charles had put a Sunday New York Times in our room. Coupled with the Atlanta Constitution I had bought at the motel I had plenty of reading material. Madisen was not short on movies so we both did our thing.
About ten minutes after we returned from the diner we came to a grinding halt. I turned on my walkie talkie and heard what every railroader dreads in cold weather~ a broken rail. We were near Bremen, GA as best as I could tell and spent the better part of an hour waiting on the section gang to fix the broken rail. Soon after we were on our way again only to be stopped by a hot box detector that failed to talk. This is a favorite test of officials but who knows; maybe the cold weather and ice got to the machine. So, after the train crew walked the train (2 engines, a very grimy baggage car, 2 sleepers, diner, lounge and three coaches) we were on our way again but behind the clock by about an hour and a half.
Lunch time snuck up on us and we headed to the diner. There was a mystery lady at breakfast who sat at the south end table of the diner facing north. I had seen her hand the LSA some green and stated she wanted to sit by herself. She got her wish and was in the same seat when we entered the diner. She was alluring enough to be a Hollywood actress but I guess we'll never know for sure. John Madden used to travel exclusively by Amtrak until he endured a few 10-12 hour delays. A middle aged man came in the diner and sat across from us. I'm all for community seating but this fella took the cake. He claimed to be a professor at Rutgers and could not understand what an 11 year old was doing on the train. We both tried to explain to him that Monday was a school holiday and that we would be home around 8 o'clock that same evening. He would not stop ranting and raving about young kids; it was almost as if he had forgotten that he was one himself some years ago. Well the SA came with our meals, (we both ordered the "special" which was a very good hot roast beef and mashed potatoes) he placed my meal in front of me. Just as he was placing Madisen's plate down the train took a violent jerk from having hit a spur frog that obviously needed replacing. The plate knocked over a full glass of Pepsi right into the good professors lap. What happened next I'd pay a million to see over again. He jumped up on the BACK of the seats in Austin Powers/ Spiderman style and started foaming at the mouth. The more the waiter apologized the madder he became. The last we saw of him was about 10 seconds later as he raced out of the diner towards the coaches. I'm sure he still is using choice words for his lunch experience! We laughed a long time along with the rest of the diner. I just hope the good professor recovers in time to teach again. We finished up lunch with a delightful red velvet cake that was certainly New York quality.
We lounged most of the afternoon and managed to get in a good nap. Pulling into Birmingham is a time consuming effort as I believe all the cross overs and station tracks are used almost exclusively by Amtrak. It has to be one of the gloomier stations on the system as is about as dismal as Memphis was until it received a face lift. The station is elevated and the ticket office is downstairs. It's pretty creepy walking down not knowing what might lurk around the corner.
Apparently we became a "hot" train after leaving Birmingham as we only stopped briefly in Tuscaloosa. An elderly lady, 92 years young, was being coached by her son to get off the train. I heard her say, "I'm tired, I think I want to lay down in this room" (which just happened to be ours.) I watched out the window as the conductor was waiting outside with the wheel chair lift and must have looked at his watch a dozen times. We got a good laugh when we left town and I told him about momma's desire to take a nap. It was nice to have such a great crew. Incidentally, we had the same crew coming and going as they are based out of Meridian, MS and even run with a fireman. They spend the night in Atlanta and return to Meridian the next day. The engineer was a lady named Tina. I told her at Meridian (crew change point) that she put the men to shame with the way she stretched broke that train. She laughed when I told her I knew when the fireman was running; the slack always ran in.
Before we knew it dinner time was looking right at us. We went to the diner and the mystery woman was sitting in her regular spot. I dared not ask if she stayed there the entire trip as we never saw her get up and she had a room in the sleeper according to our attendant. An older couple joined us for dinner. The flat iron steaks are fabulous especially with baked potatoes bigger than golf balls. The red velvet cake was to die for as was the cheesecake (which I seldom eat.) We splurged and ordered shrimp cocktails that tasted absolutely fabulous. I could have sworn that they were swimming in the Atlantic the night before. Of course, we finished off everything with the one commodity that we rode for; ice cream. You don't want to know what two orders of four shrimp and four ounces of ice cream cost.
We struck up a pleasant conversation with the couple opposite us. The gentleman (also named Jay) said they were going to Slidell and wanted to know if there was cab service available. Since we were running so late on a Sunday evening I suggested that he not depend on a cab and that we would be glad to drop he and his wife off at his hotel. He graciously accepted and seemed relieved at not having to worry about a taxi showing up at the depot. We stopped in Slidell and Jay and his wife guarded Madisen and our luggage while I ran to the north end of the station to get the Jeep. We loaded up and headed for the Best Western. What happened next completely blew me away. I've only experienced incidents like this in Rod Serling's stories. Jay said, "You know, about 15 years ago a really nice guy named C. Jay took me to his home when we were running so late." (A tornado had ripped the roof
on a house in Philadelphia, placed it on the main line, and tied up the main for over eight hours. Unfortunately, #19 had already departed NYP.) Jay and I sat down to dinner some 15 years ago on that day and I offered to bring him to our home in Baton Rouge; put him up for some rest and take him downtown to the bus station so he could see his son in Houston. Jay is going to Houston again but for a different reason this trip; he has certainly aged dramatically. He is starting chemotherapy at M.D. Anderson for cancer that was recently discovered. I still have goose bumps relaying this story as I, also, went to M.D. Anderson for cancer treatment five years ago. We drove up to the Best Western in total silence after I told him that I was the "C. Jay" that put him up on that dark and gloomy night. I thought his wife was going to go into shock. Madisen and I returned home in almost dead silence.
And so my fellow travelers we come to the end of the Great Ice Cream Robbery. It sure was a full week-end and one neither I nor Madisen will ever forget.
I awoke about 3:30 to a freezing chill. The heater was ripping and roaring but wasn't keeping up with the outside temperature. I turned it on high and then turned on the Weather Channel. I soon found out the reason for the room's frigid condition; 18 degrees is not a temp that Atlanta is used to seeing. I looked out the window and saw nary a soul or car going by which is rare in Atlanta. The only sign of any movement was steam billowing from one of the college dorms across the street.
I called Julie and was glad to hear #19 was running on time. When we arrived at the station about 7:45 there were just a few people standing around. When the train pulled in early at 8 a.m. people started showing to both pick up and drop off friends and relatives. It seems that one of the four coaches both on #19 and #20 and have been taken off and probably swung over for Silver Service in the winter. We only had one shut off coach leaving Atlanta. The Atlanta station is woefully small and was not built to be a main station. It was a suburban station much like New Carrollton until they demolished the downtown Atlanta station. Fortunately, most of the passenger traffic in Atlanta was people de-training with just about 20 people boarding for New Orleans and points south.
The Red Cap took us to our car less than 10 minutes after #19 arrived. Charles greeted us at the sleeper vestibule and was most cordial and accommodating. We went straight to the diner and were glad that it looked light years newer than the one we had on #20. Yes, it had received the face lift that most of the Heritage diners received about 7 or 8 years ago. We sat down where we chose and we could sense that the crew was an easy going bunch. It was certainly a relief after enduring the Stalag 13 LSA of the day before.
We had the Belgian waffles and French toast. Both entrees were great. I had the apple filled chicken sausage links and enjoyed them even better than the first day. Madisen, my grand daughter, had bacon with her meal and it looked to be the pre-cooked variety. She said it was good so we finished our meal and returned to our room. Charles had put a Sunday New York Times in our room. Coupled with the Atlanta Constitution I had bought at the motel I had plenty of reading material. Madisen was not short on movies so we both did our thing.
About ten minutes after we returned from the diner we came to a grinding halt. I turned on my walkie talkie and heard what every railroader dreads in cold weather~ a broken rail. We were near Bremen, GA as best as I could tell and spent the better part of an hour waiting on the section gang to fix the broken rail. Soon after we were on our way again only to be stopped by a hot box detector that failed to talk. This is a favorite test of officials but who knows; maybe the cold weather and ice got to the machine. So, after the train crew walked the train (2 engines, a very grimy baggage car, 2 sleepers, diner, lounge and three coaches) we were on our way again but behind the clock by about an hour and a half.
Lunch time snuck up on us and we headed to the diner. There was a mystery lady at breakfast who sat at the south end table of the diner facing north. I had seen her hand the LSA some green and stated she wanted to sit by herself. She got her wish and was in the same seat when we entered the diner. She was alluring enough to be a Hollywood actress but I guess we'll never know for sure. John Madden used to travel exclusively by Amtrak until he endured a few 10-12 hour delays. A middle aged man came in the diner and sat across from us. I'm all for community seating but this fella took the cake. He claimed to be a professor at Rutgers and could not understand what an 11 year old was doing on the train. We both tried to explain to him that Monday was a school holiday and that we would be home around 8 o'clock that same evening. He would not stop ranting and raving about young kids; it was almost as if he had forgotten that he was one himself some years ago. Well the SA came with our meals, (we both ordered the "special" which was a very good hot roast beef and mashed potatoes) he placed my meal in front of me. Just as he was placing Madisen's plate down the train took a violent jerk from having hit a spur frog that obviously needed replacing. The plate knocked over a full glass of Pepsi right into the good professors lap. What happened next I'd pay a million to see over again. He jumped up on the BACK of the seats in Austin Powers/ Spiderman style and started foaming at the mouth. The more the waiter apologized the madder he became. The last we saw of him was about 10 seconds later as he raced out of the diner towards the coaches. I'm sure he still is using choice words for his lunch experience! We laughed a long time along with the rest of the diner. I just hope the good professor recovers in time to teach again. We finished up lunch with a delightful red velvet cake that was certainly New York quality.
We lounged most of the afternoon and managed to get in a good nap. Pulling into Birmingham is a time consuming effort as I believe all the cross overs and station tracks are used almost exclusively by Amtrak. It has to be one of the gloomier stations on the system as is about as dismal as Memphis was until it received a face lift. The station is elevated and the ticket office is downstairs. It's pretty creepy walking down not knowing what might lurk around the corner.
Apparently we became a "hot" train after leaving Birmingham as we only stopped briefly in Tuscaloosa. An elderly lady, 92 years young, was being coached by her son to get off the train. I heard her say, "I'm tired, I think I want to lay down in this room" (which just happened to be ours.) I watched out the window as the conductor was waiting outside with the wheel chair lift and must have looked at his watch a dozen times. We got a good laugh when we left town and I told him about momma's desire to take a nap. It was nice to have such a great crew. Incidentally, we had the same crew coming and going as they are based out of Meridian, MS and even run with a fireman. They spend the night in Atlanta and return to Meridian the next day. The engineer was a lady named Tina. I told her at Meridian (crew change point) that she put the men to shame with the way she stretched broke that train. She laughed when I told her I knew when the fireman was running; the slack always ran in.
Before we knew it dinner time was looking right at us. We went to the diner and the mystery woman was sitting in her regular spot. I dared not ask if she stayed there the entire trip as we never saw her get up and she had a room in the sleeper according to our attendant. An older couple joined us for dinner. The flat iron steaks are fabulous especially with baked potatoes bigger than golf balls. The red velvet cake was to die for as was the cheesecake (which I seldom eat.) We splurged and ordered shrimp cocktails that tasted absolutely fabulous. I could have sworn that they were swimming in the Atlantic the night before. Of course, we finished off everything with the one commodity that we rode for; ice cream. You don't want to know what two orders of four shrimp and four ounces of ice cream cost.
We struck up a pleasant conversation with the couple opposite us. The gentleman (also named Jay) said they were going to Slidell and wanted to know if there was cab service available. Since we were running so late on a Sunday evening I suggested that he not depend on a cab and that we would be glad to drop he and his wife off at his hotel. He graciously accepted and seemed relieved at not having to worry about a taxi showing up at the depot. We stopped in Slidell and Jay and his wife guarded Madisen and our luggage while I ran to the north end of the station to get the Jeep. We loaded up and headed for the Best Western. What happened next completely blew me away. I've only experienced incidents like this in Rod Serling's stories. Jay said, "You know, about 15 years ago a really nice guy named C. Jay took me to his home when we were running so late." (A tornado had ripped the roof
on a house in Philadelphia, placed it on the main line, and tied up the main for over eight hours. Unfortunately, #19 had already departed NYP.) Jay and I sat down to dinner some 15 years ago on that day and I offered to bring him to our home in Baton Rouge; put him up for some rest and take him downtown to the bus station so he could see his son in Houston. Jay is going to Houston again but for a different reason this trip; he has certainly aged dramatically. He is starting chemotherapy at M.D. Anderson for cancer that was recently discovered. I still have goose bumps relaying this story as I, also, went to M.D. Anderson for cancer treatment five years ago. We drove up to the Best Western in total silence after I told him that I was the "C. Jay" that put him up on that dark and gloomy night. I thought his wife was going to go into shock. Madisen and I returned home in almost dead silence.
And so my fellow travelers we come to the end of the Great Ice Cream Robbery. It sure was a full week-end and one neither I nor Madisen will ever forget.
