I leaned out on the platform, straining my ears for the train’s first distant rumble. “It’ll come, Jessie,” Scott reassured me. It was July in Chicago. We were waiting for the L. And his enthusiasm was as high as my own.
When I was a kid, I hated trains exactly when my dad and sister were enjoying a Lionel phase. By the time I reversed my position, they were through. But once miniature engines claimed my interest, they never let go. Marrying an addict only fueled my interest. We honeymooned by train. We look for historic railway projects where the real hobbyists practice their art.… Read the rest