Last week on one of my posts...I mentioned that I was off to visit an old friend......

Trains have always held interest for me. My Grandfather was an engineer on the L&N (Louisville and Nashville) rail line. I stepped on board the train and it felt like an old friend. I had heard so many stories over the years about the L and N line...too many to mention them all here. The stories part of the oral tradition of passing down to later generations.

Recounting how the railroad was my grandfather's ticket to the world outside of Evansville. How stepping onto a train helped everyone forget the depression at least for a time. The plush luxury of the club car with the full kitchen serving Chicken Cordon Bleu and desert recipes from Chicago and San Fransisco...treats for the palette never experienced in the old shotgun house where he grew up. What it was like pulling into the rail yards of Chicago for the first time and seeing the skyline with it's towering buildings quite unlike the small town he left behind in Southern Indiana.

Stories of poker games and tall tales being spun in the caboose as it rocked long the rails on cold winter days...the wood stove keeping them warm as their eyes were glued to the passing countryside...always changing...always new worlds to discover.

I can't think of a comparison to the same sense of exploration and wonderment they felt in those days. We have now become so accustomed to travel...it seems we no longer look below the surface to experience the journey. Anymore...regretfully...the journey is all about getting from point a to point b as fast as we can. We are missing so much in between.