Adventures On Trains, Buses

July 28, 2016 at 4:25 p.m.

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Editor, Times-Union:

It's too bad when you can no longer board a Greyhound bus or a train to get out of town, and if you don't own a car, you're a dead duck.

Often, whenever I think of a bus, or a train, my mind wanders back to that era when World War II was raging, and gas was heavily rationed. During the time, every train, bus, interurban car, and streetcar was rushing helter-skelter transporting commuters to whatever destination they chose.

I recall that it was on a cold November day in 1943, when I decided to take a train to Gary to visit my mother. Well, I had quite a ride, for every car was paqcked, and I couldn't even get inside a car, but had to stand outside on that expanse between cars, and that cold November wind whipped me around until it nearly did me in. But I didn't mind too much, for the cars were well-occupied with servicemen, and I was glad to give up my seat to one of them in admiration and in the spirit of patriotism. I often took the Greyhound bus to Chicago.

I could travel on the bus to Chicago, as far as the Loop, for $5 roundtrip. I would venture throughout the Loop to observe the city's sites. One day, I decided to wander south on State Street, so I walked and walked until I came to a section of town that looked like the slums.

I was ready to amble back up to the Loop when a lady with heavy makeup and wearing a tight-fitting dress sauntered up to me and greeted me with, "Hello honey. Would you like to go home with me?"

Politely, I answered, "No, thank you."

Then, I thought, "Now why would I want to go home with her? I don't even know her."

Yes, I was the innocent, naive county bumpkin turned loose in the big city. But how green can one get?

Then there was the time while ambling along Michigan Avenue, when this wild looking kid came saling up to me. He held his hand before my eyes, and in the palm of his hand, I detected a beautiful, expensive wristwatch. In a sly, secretive tone, the kid muttered, "Would you like to buy this for a couple of bucks?"

I told him, "No," for I was certain that he had snitched the watch from somewhere. So, the kid hurried on down the street, and in his best "Oliver Twist" fashion, accosted someone else who might take the watch off his hands.

Yes, Chicago is a big, windy city, where a country boy can experience many unusual surprises, and I wouldn't mind having the opportunity to once more board one of those Greyhound buses, or take a train back to Chicago for another trek around the Loop, or go anywhere else just to get out of town to escape those monotonous moments of boredom that often overtake an individual whenever life becomes too repetitious and routine.

Don Kaiser

Warsaw

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Editor, Times-Union:

It's too bad when you can no longer board a Greyhound bus or a train to get out of town, and if you don't own a car, you're a dead duck.

Often, whenever I think of a bus, or a train, my mind wanders back to that era when World War II was raging, and gas was heavily rationed. During the time, every train, bus, interurban car, and streetcar was rushing helter-skelter transporting commuters to whatever destination they chose.

I recall that it was on a cold November day in 1943, when I decided to take a train to Gary to visit my mother. Well, I had quite a ride, for every car was paqcked, and I couldn't even get inside a car, but had to stand outside on that expanse between cars, and that cold November wind whipped me around until it nearly did me in. But I didn't mind too much, for the cars were well-occupied with servicemen, and I was glad to give up my seat to one of them in admiration and in the spirit of patriotism. I often took the Greyhound bus to Chicago.

I could travel on the bus to Chicago, as far as the Loop, for $5 roundtrip. I would venture throughout the Loop to observe the city's sites. One day, I decided to wander south on State Street, so I walked and walked until I came to a section of town that looked like the slums.

I was ready to amble back up to the Loop when a lady with heavy makeup and wearing a tight-fitting dress sauntered up to me and greeted me with, "Hello honey. Would you like to go home with me?"

Politely, I answered, "No, thank you."

Then, I thought, "Now why would I want to go home with her? I don't even know her."

Yes, I was the innocent, naive county bumpkin turned loose in the big city. But how green can one get?

Then there was the time while ambling along Michigan Avenue, when this wild looking kid came saling up to me. He held his hand before my eyes, and in the palm of his hand, I detected a beautiful, expensive wristwatch. In a sly, secretive tone, the kid muttered, "Would you like to buy this for a couple of bucks?"

I told him, "No," for I was certain that he had snitched the watch from somewhere. So, the kid hurried on down the street, and in his best "Oliver Twist" fashion, accosted someone else who might take the watch off his hands.

Yes, Chicago is a big, windy city, where a country boy can experience many unusual surprises, and I wouldn't mind having the opportunity to once more board one of those Greyhound buses, or take a train back to Chicago for another trek around the Loop, or go anywhere else just to get out of town to escape those monotonous moments of boredom that often overtake an individual whenever life becomes too repetitious and routine.

Don Kaiser

Warsaw

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