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| Here is one of the tunnels you walk through to get to and from the trains at LA's Union Station. With the light rail running through there now too, it is always very bustling and cool! |
| The Night Train... Copyright 1990 by Bernadette Maria Joolen. All rights reserved. THEY ARRIVE at the same time the sixties do, on the long and winding Santa Fe train. Slip out of Lawrence in the dead of night. Spill out of the train in the dead of dawn some three days later on desert soil. One day in Lawrence a neighbor says, “I have a cousin who lives in LA” And that is all he needs to hear. A life’s course set, a dream begun. They hurtle through the desert at lightening speed. A mother, father, six children. Recent immigrants, workingclass, poor. A sense of adventure, she tries to explain, when she tells people how her life has been. “PAPA—?” “Yes—Tell me what!” he says. (He is so happy to be on that train.) “Where will we live when we get to LA?” He shrugs his shoulders—“I don't know.” But uncertainty never bothers a child. The train ride takes her breath away. SHE TRIES to stay awake for three days. She stares out at the black empty night rolling by. She clutches an unread book to her chest. She tries to find the people there in that vast dark empty plain. She see windmills and fences—sleeping cows. She sees houses, sometimes partly lit and wonders who is living there. Who else is still awake that night to listen for the night train? She sees weathered barns and stacks of hay. Tall cylinder silos—what are they? What is a silo anyway? She thinks, I will ask him in the morning. (She asks her father everything.) “What is a silo?” she will say. He won’t know what a silo is. He isn’t inclined to know these things. The purely practical things of the world. The kinds of things a man would know. “But I sure like silos,” he will say. And he will mean the image, the word. He will mean the wonder they conjure. He will mean he likes riding trains. Likes seeing the world this way, from a train. Likes wondering, as the world rolls by, just where it is that he will be—what place he will finally call home. He sits, as wide awake as her. He sits, as wide-eyed as her. As filled with wonder as a child. SHE IS IN THE window seat. Her sister, Liese, has fallen asleep—head slumped towards the center aisle. A small town comes into view. “Emporia,” he whispers to her from his outside seat across the aisle. (Only three more hours left till dawn.) Not that time matters on a train. Her sister's floppy sleeping head lolls back and forth with the rhythm of the train. The long train begins to climb. Sometimes when the train turns a deep bend, she watches the rest of the train behind—now catching the light of the first morning sun. A blood red sun begins to rise. She looks at her father, he winks at her. “Colorado,” he loudly whispers and smiles. He broadly sweeps his pale hand to show her what it is he sees. “The foothills, the steppes of the mountains,” he says. And then, with some pride—“Colorado means red.” He is inclined to know these things. The words and ideas that describe their world—in languages, words not only their own. She turns to gaze out the window once more. She watches that blood red sun rise. She studies the deep red soil. She turns to smile at him again. She is proud of him, she always was. She thinks to herself, No wonder it does. No wonder colorado means red. THE OTHER PASSENGERS start to rise. Soon the car is alive as a cage full of birds. The morning porter ambles through, dispensing coffee, juice, rolls. Her mother has brought some bread and cheese—some oranges, cookies, candy, tea. You can get the hot water free. They pass their parcels overhead across the high velvet seats. The sun levels off but the train climbs on. The long silver train continues to climb.... Read more... . |
| Bernadette Joolen Loves Trains!! Some of my sweetest moments in life have been on trains. One of my most romantic journeys, ever, was a trip I took when I was nine-years-old... And my family moved from and now a central chapter in my novel, On Brigden Road. I will admit it, I have been in love with trains ever since! More recently, I have also enjoyed several journeys with my boy on the Coast Starlight train, which runs from Seattle, Washington to LA. (A journey which is also featured in my novel, when the central character, Leni van Meer, now grown, returns home.) If you haven't ever, you should take a journey on a train! Especially if you have a young one, don't hesitate! You will bring an eternal romance to their lives. Trains are the history of how we used to travel!! They are lovely small insulated worlds. You can gaze out of the window, on trains. You can talk to people on trains! Here, a photo from Union Station in LA, which I'm sure must be one of the most beautiful train stations in the world! I have made that trip now many times, on that Coast Starlight train, since graduating college in December 1980, when Seattle became my new home. I hope you enjoy my story below, The Night Train. Where this whole journey began. . |