Metrolink111: No No Magic Days
Shelley J Alongi

 

“I want to meet a train engineer,” I said to the group of railfans on the patio at the Fullerton station in that cool evening. That cool evening was Thursday July 23 and it was almost time for the Southwest chief to appear. Bob, Larry, Doug, Janice Bob’s wife and his daughter Janna, Dick, 91, and Joyce,94, sat on the patio in the right corner just out the door of the Santa Fe Cafe, discussing my obsession with meeting a train engineer. Well, at least Larry and Shelley were discussing it. I’m sure bob just thought it was amusing.

“What are you?” Larry asked, “A gold digger?”

Me? a gold digger? I don’t ever think I’ve been asked if I was a gold digger. I don’t think I am considering that right now I’m stun broke, perhaps even more broke than a stone since rent is due in two weeks and I do what Americans seem to do these days, live paycheck to pay check. Even if you’re a railroad engineer you might be inclined to spend your money. Lilian toll me that Rob liked to spend money. So it doesn’t matter how much you make, I think at some time in our earning lives we think we’re stone broke. But I’m really stone broke. Gold digger? I smiled a little.

“I’m not a gold digger,” I assured the man who immediately asked me if I knew who Norm was. When I said that yes I did know who he was, he said that Norman was married with kids. I knew that, I said.

The whole discussion started when Larry asked me what I was reading. I had a Braille book catalog on the table in front of me and then finishing that I began working on finishing chapter eleven or so in my book Santa Fe, The Railroad that Build An empire.

“You’re reading about trains,” he asked as a cool breeze made its way to the patio. The weather had been almost ideal that day; I had been there since 11:00 in the morning, having taken a day off work, because as I described it to anyone who would listen, it was a “no magic day.” That meant that I didn’t want to be on the phone, I didn’t want to deal with the inconsistencies of our booking system, and so having everything on except my shoes, I had called out of work. I’ve worked hard since February not to miss any work and had lost points in July so there was now some flexibility in my schedule.

“I eat, drink, sleep, and breathe trains,” I told him. I think I do. That’s why I write about them so much, or at least my experiences with them. I don’t want to discuss trains with my friends who don’t particularly have an interest in trains. So I write my obsession and publish it online for anyone to read about it who might be interested in trains, or at least interested in what I’m writing about them. And then it all comes down to this: am I interested in trains or the people who operate them?

Well, I do have the email address of someone who works on an Amtrak train so that I can update them about how the memorial plaque project is going. I don’t’ have any email addresses of any engineers, they’re all off operating trains, and I’m booking hotels and sometimes trains. But I think it’s a little bit of both. A gold digger? that’s a good one.

“Did you go to the train day?” Larry asked me. He was referring to the National Train day on may 2, 2009 and the celebrations held at Union Station in Los Angeles.

“No,” I said. “I didn’t have the money for train fair.”

“You didn’t miss anything,” he said. “It was a dud.”

“I could have met the engineer,” I said, and that’s how we started discussing me wanting to meet a train engineer.

“Well,” I said, “I could have met an engineer and they’re the primary source. They could have told me about the trains.”

Larry said he thought someone could ride in the locomotive of a freight train f they signed a release form or some such thing. That sounded fun to me. I’ll see about it. I’m not going to sue a railroad company for sitting in the locomotive with one or two engineers. I have medical coverage if something goes wrong. I don’ have much time to sue anyone and it would have to really be worth it. If I climb up into the cab with an engineer or two I’m responsible for my own self, I think. Yes, I still believe in personal responsibility. If a railroad company doesn’t want to take responsibility for me, fine, I will. But that will al come later because right now I’m back to work, making magic, except when I encounter a “no magic day.”

Hopping A Freight

But it wasn’t all about train engineers that day. Tim dropped by, hopping off of one freight train and getting on to another one, Jose told me. Tim walked right by me as I sat reading my book. I didn’t wave, I didn’t know it was him. Usually I say hello to anyone who passes but for some reason I didn’t say hello to him. I guess I should have said hello. But now I know who he is and so the next time if I’m there when he comes by I’ll be sure and introduce myself. I’ll tell Larry about this and he’ll tell me I’m a gold digger. Well, that would be easier than really digging for gold, I suppose. At least the gold would already be there and we wouldn’t have to pan for it.

I know God provides for me, I don’t need to be a gold digger, I’ve already found the gold. But I still want to meet the train engineer.

“So that I can be friends with a train engineer,” I said. “I went out and made friends with a pilot. I can make friends with a Train engineer. Usually if I want to be friends with someone I go out and become friends with them.

Today I think I was friends with the freights. There must have been two freight trains an hour that went through Fullerton that day, some of them sitting on the tracks at the station, disgorging Tim, and just waiting for red lights. I noticed that the train which disgorged Tim, I think was on track two, or maybe it was track three. A man said something about someone going that way and then later after an Amtrak pulled away, the freight made its way out of the station.

“Actually you just missed Tim,” Jose said to me for some reason.

“Oh was that the guy talking on his cell phone?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

Next time I’ll say hello. Jose says Tim is cool so he’ll probably say hi back.

On A Mission

Today I’ve gone to the station with a mission and it’s not necessarily to meet a train engineer. The mission is to finish the chapters in volume 4 of the Braille book. You see since it takes about four pages to make one print page and I’m reading a book written on plastic Braille paper which only publishes on one side, (a very old form of producing Braille for those of you who don’t’ know), the Braille copy takes nine volumes. I’ve almost gotten through half of the book. The idea today was to finish that volume because every time I try to finish that book at work I get interrupted by, well, work. So early in the morning after telling work I have no magic, I grab the briefcase I’ve just purchased in June, before I was stone broke, and which holds the book and the magazine, put my money, phone, and bus pass, sun block, and water in it, and head on out the door.

I decided to go to Taco Bell instead of the café for lunch, and it is yummy. People don’t understand what it is I like about Taco Bell and maybe I don’t’ understand it either. I don’t’ go there very often, I used to go a lot more often which probably explains why I gained so much weight in my twenties and thirties. I’m sure there were more reasons why I gained weight, but now, I don’t go to Taco Bell as often, and so I enjoy it when I do. In my broke life I have several favorite restaurants: they are, not necessarily in this order, Subway, Taco Bell, Jalapenos Grille, the Santa Fe café, the Spaghetti factory, Polly’s Pies, and anything else is treat. Yes, MacDonald’s is a treat. So after getting off the bus at Taco Bell and eating a pretty substantial lunch I get on the 43 an go to the stationg, then sit and read, apply liberal amounts of sun block, and read. I don’t do much roaming of the station today, I tell myself I won’t leave till I finish the chapters on my list. I don’t leave the station till 10:05 PM, after eating bread at the Spaghetti Factory, a ham and cheese sandwich at the Santa Fe Café, three sodas, and talking to Doug. Before that, the usual 2:00 PM fans arrive discussing Tom’s girlfriend or whoever she is, they say, his little dog Skipper, amazingly quiet today. I’ve learned their names just from listening to their conversations: Raymond, Bob, Tom, Wess, and Richard. They ignore me. It’s fine I don’t want to be part of their gossipy conversation, I just want to listen to it. My mother told me as a child I had big ears. She was right. Most conversations I just listen to and don’t participate in. I always find these conversations amusing. They discuss President Obama only answering written out questions, the discuss the stock market rise, they discuss Kathy. I don’t kno if any of what they say is true, but they don’t discuss trains, at least I don’t remember that they discuss trains. There certainly are a lot of them today. The afternoon group of fans leaves around 4:00, and we await the next group. I’m beginning to learn the cycle of a day in the life of the fullerton station. I’ve discovered one thing, or is it that the station has presented me with one more thing: I enjoy reading there. Oh yeah and listening to people’s conversations..and maybe meeting a train engineer or two. It’s just a nice place to relax.

At 7:30 after the SWC leaves and Jose pulls the chairs off the patio, after the sun sets and the evening cools pleasantly for mid July, we go out to the tracks. We talk about a train engineer: Rob Sanchez. He tells me that I can buy a Train disasters video at the whistle Stop in Pasadena. I’ve already bought my railroad lantern, I don’t want any train disaster DVDS, I tell him. I’m only interested in one train wreck, and frankly, that’s enough.

I don’t remember why we talked about rob Sanchez specifically: probably had to do with cell phones, texting, distractions, sympathy, company policy, and my feelings on all those things. I remember that we talked about how there should be two people in the locomotive cab, something that used to be standard operating procedure in the days of steam. Amazing the things I’ve learned since retreating to the station on October 19 to grieve the loss of Rob Sanchez. I told you I’d do a lot of learning. I’ve certainly done a lot of that.

I’m feverishly working on finishing my book, or at least that volume of the book. At 8:30 I put the book away and sigh with relief. I’ve finished it! I’ve read the chapter, I’ve written down book numbers to order, I’ve seen at least twenty freight trains and the usual gaggle of passenger trains.

Earthquakes, Heartache, and Trouble

Later in the evening Shirley comes by, she’s an Amtrak crewmember and she says she can’t believe I’m still sitting there since she sees me at 11:45 AM. She’s waiting for the 769 to wherever it goes an her friend comes and they talk about being afraid of earthquakes. She tells me that a lot of the engineers these days are younger.

“Full of heartache and trouble,” I say.

“I don’t’ know about thatch” she responds.

Full of heartache and trouble, just like the rest of us, I say, we’re all full of heartache and trouble, and kindness, and curiosity.

So today, a no magic day, is a great freight viewing day, a day full of discussions about engineers, fear of earthquakes, farmers markets, and definitely not full of heartache and trouble. We’ll save that for another day. We’ll have them, but hopefully they’ll stay far away from the fullerton station.

It’s heartache and trouble I suppose that has fuelled my interest in trains, but so far with trains at least, there seem to be no, “no magic days.”

 

 

Copyright © 2009 Shelley J Alongi
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"