The Train and I  

By Pat Alderman

I have a terrible track record when it comes to trains. My first attempt was to take AMTRAK from Huntsville, Ala., to St. Louis, Mo. This was back in the '60s, and as I recall, it took eight hours. I thought we would never get there. When we had a stop, I was afraid to get off to get something to eat for fear I would miss resumption of the trip.

It was 30 years before I attempted another train trip. My husband and I went on a vacation to Canada. The tour included an overnight trip on a train. My husband was gallant enough to get in the top berth. He is a large man, so it was no small accomplishment getting up there. All night long, the train made numerous, loud stops. Sleep was just something we daydreamed we could have.

A few years later, we took a cruise to Alaska. I made the mistake of letting my husband plan the trip. He chose a tour that included another long train trip. At first, the view was scenic, but how many pine trees does it take before boredom sets in? As if that weren't bad enough, my husband found a willing listener, so he droned on for what seemed like hours, displaying his vast knowledge of trivia. There was no escape before we arrived!

These three memorably horrible experiences made me vow never to travel by train again. I was safe until 2007. An old friend of ours died, and we were invited to the funeral which was to be held on a train! With much trepidation, we accepted the invitation. I felt like I was headed for the guillotine.

Surprisingly, the service turned into a positive outcome. We talked with other people on board, which helped pass the 5 _-hour trip. The minister gave a touching tribute to our deceased friend. He did say it was his first funeral to be held on a train in 40 years. We did not watch as the wife and son scattered the ashes in a scenic location, but rather reflected on Craig's life. Then the train stopped on a spot overlooking a river. We went to the dining car and had a delicious lunch. The guests were invited to write down things we remembered about Craig, and we also looked at family albums through the years.

I renewed my vow to discontinue train travel; this time, however, it was because I wanted to stop with good memories.
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Pat resides in Roswell, Ga.