Blast from the Past-Jan 20, 2009

Posted on by hollyfrostgoldportpress


(Sarah is en route home, and you will hopefully return to your irregularly regular blog tomorrow or the next day. This has already been the sort of road trip that will have stories about it told for years, so please pray for no more interesting events. Now let’s see if I can make the blog sit up and tap dance today or not, or if it’s going to misbehave at me. –Holly the Assistant)

I’m still mired deep in writing, though the treacle has got somewhat less sticky and I can see the end from where I am.

However, for several days now, I’ve had this song stuck in my head:

Riding on the City of New Orleans,
Illinois Central Monday morning rail
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders,
Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail.
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulls out at Kankakee
Rolls along past houses, farms and fields.
Passin’ trains that have no names,
Freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.

Good morning America how are you?
Don’t you know me I’m your native son,
I’m the train they call The City of New Orleans,
I’ll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.

I know the song echoes of bitterness and all that, but the thing is, I’ve always loved that opening because I’ve always loved early morning America seen from car or bus.  The little houses by the side of the highway, the fast foods opening up, traffic slugishly trickling out onto the highway.

I fell in love with America twenty eight years ago, when I was an exchange student.  The first week was… interesting, but not American as such.  They gathered a large batch (there were three batches) of  incoming AFS students, from all over the world, into WC Fields in NY for an orientation about basic things like manners, how to ask for things and such.

And it was very interesting.  Did you know that released to the wild, adventurous young people cling first to people of their country, then people of the same linguistic grouping, then to people with whom they perceive a cultural relationship.  Take Portuguese, for example — first they clung to other Portuguese and then in order were willing to group with Brazilians, Spaniards, all South Americans.

Except for the outliers, of course.  Those of us who were there to discover the different mingled freely.  There were very few of us, but we had great fun.  And it was interesting, at a thinking level, realizing how many of the things we used to judge people on first meeting were built into our culture and not universal.  Take my group-leader-orientation manager, Chris Jacobsen (wonder how life has treated him?) from NYC.  He was I think in his second year of college and what I then considered cute but I was sure there was no point playing up to him.  Why?  Well, he wore a thick, visible silver chain.  So, of course, he was gay.  (Hits head on desk, forcefully.)

With all that, there were hints that week of what America was — the things it was that were not part of any other country I had experienced.  Take the volunteers.  One of my favorites was my house father, Keith (and these years later, I can’t remember his name.) who was a long-distance trucker (and who for reasons known only to him woke us up with loud renditions of George Washington Bridge, in the morning.  Much more pleasant than an alarm clock.)  He was taking his vacation time to come shepherd a group of lost duckling foreigners through their adaptation to America.  It was a thankless task, with no pay and no perstige.  I can imagine very few countries in which someone would volunteer that cheerfully to give up their free time.  As did all the other volunteers, probably a hundred of them, from all walks of life.

Still, that week was about the world and about all the different people.  It didn’t — to me — relate to America.  And then they put us on the bus to send us to our host families.  I think I fell in love with America when breakfast was handed to me.  Why, you’ll ask?  Well, this was the late seventies and fast food breakfasts weren’t ubiquitous.  What they handed us were boxes from some hospitality service.  But the box contained a sealed orange juice cup, a sealed cup of fruit salad, a stick of French toast with the syrup for dipping and — I think — a cup of coffee filled hot by the volunteer at the door to the bus.

Before you think I fell in love with food…  None of what I was handed was my favorite.  But it was so ready, so self-contained and so perfect for the situation, that I was charmed.  And then when I thought that at that time in the morning there were these little packets ready for any travelers who might be setting out, I was captivated.

In that Greyhound Bus, crossing PA — I did my exchange student year at Stow, Ohio and graduated from Stow High School — I saw the little houses, the cars trickling onto the highway, and I was finally bowled over by the energy, the determination, the… joy of America, where each person got up and went to work that early…

You could say you — all of you — had me at hello.

During the year, rough spots and all, my love for America grew and though I was eventually lucky enough to fall in love with an American and end up here, I suspect I would have ended up here anyway, even if I had to trail a foreign-born family behind me.

It is not a grandiose love.  When it comes to the constitution — as I believe I’ve said before — I’m a fundamentalist, and I love the idea of America — “o kings, no queens, no lords, no ladies, we won’t be fooled again.”   However, like all true love that leads to a long term relationship and stays around as you both change, it is a more humble and work-a-day emotion and what I love about America is a more everyday sense and feel…  Those things that don’t change beneath the trappings of governments, fads, and the latest cultural turmoil.

Three –?– years ago I was disgusted with something or other at the Federal level, and generally depressed.  And then I went to pick up Robert at middle school (Okay, more than three years.  Eh.)  The middle school is close enough to walk to, and it was spring.  I passed families playing on the front lawn, people working on their cars, students sprawled on lawns with their books, and many, many, many people involved in some home-improvement project.  And I fell in love with America all over again.

I don’t remember the book — eh.  I’m mid writing — but PJ O’Rourke, in one of his books has something about a restaurant in Russia at the end of the Soviet era and about how most of the issues with the place could be solved by an American, a bottle of lysol and a rag.  I remember it, because I often find myself thinking the same when I travel abroad.

The plane landing on the Hudson brought this home to me.  All those passengers helped each other out, in   scene much different from what Hollywood — who often doesn’t GET the miracle that is America — would have portrayed.  All of those boat owners, individually rushed to the rescue.

America is what Americans are, and Americans are people who get up early and go to work, and who are interested and creative enough to antecipate situations like a bunch of kids being packed in a bus early morning, in need of breakfast…

Good morning, America, I love you.  And I always will. 

(https://accordingtohoyt.com/2009/01/20/good-morning-america-i-love-you/)

29 thoughts on “Blast from the Past-Jan 20, 2009”

  2. That song is a marvelous lesson in many things: in poetry technique (odyssey/Kankakee/the noise of steel wheel on steel rail; most of the words in that section are monosyllabic), labor economics (why were the freightyards full of -old- black men), philosophy and human nature (have no names), and race relation history (the sons of …). And probably much, much more. I’d love to take a group of HS juniors and seniors through it.

    Like

  3. I’ve always liked The City of New Orleans as well and never thought it sounded bitter. To me it sounds more like well observed wistfulness about the dying of U.S. passenger rail.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. The United States Constitution is unique. For the first time ever, our Founders established a nation in which the government is the property of the people. In every other country, before and since, the people have been property of the government. That makes all the difference.

    And the political class [spit!] has been trying to undo that ever since.
    ———————————
    The U.S. Capitol is OUR house. Congresscritters are just the help.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Rode on the City of New Orleans in 2010. I find nothing to argue with in that song.

    When we were sitting in Chicago in the departure lounge, a lady told us that Amtrak has only two non-scenic routes. I don’t remember what the other one was, but the City of New Orleans was the other. Again…couldn’t argue one word of that.

    Like

  6. Sarah,

    My family comes from the Akron area, and my maternal grandparents were living in Stow at the time you were there. It’s possible that you might have met them.

    Like

  7. The bit about a Russian restaurant reminds me of when McDonalds opened its first restaurant in Russia. Reportedly, one of the things that new employee training covered was the importance of employees issuing the local equivalent of, “Thank you! Have a nice day!”

    Like

    1. Apparently it was quite a new thing to the Muscovites. Despite the strange and expensive food, two years later there were still lines out the door and down the street.

      McDonalds no longer operates in Russia. The corporate management decided to get political and first closed most of the 850 Russian stores, then sold them to a Russian company in protest over Ukraine. They shut down the Belarussian stores too, and for some reason, also Kazakhstan.

      Like

  8. I’ve always loved that song, and now I can say I’ve ridden on The City of New Orleans although, since it was Amtrak, it was probably more spiffed up than the train that Steve Goodman wrote about. I love traveling through America by train, and I’ve chronicled many a RxR journey in the section called Life on my website https://frank-hood.com/category/life/. There’s no better way to meet lots of Americans–even some from France or England or Australia. :)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Mom has been riding Amtrak between Eugene OR and Vancouver WA rather than drive. Okay, the three of us insisted she not drive I-5, at least limited distance (helped by an incident we still don’t know about that scared her on I-5). We could just see that her license gets taken away. Honestly her driving hasn’t deteriorated even though she’s 91 (in a few days). Heck her vision is better than it ever was with glasses. She’s more cautious, her reaction time has slowed. Which causes idiots to do stupid stuff that she may not react in time to. Otherwise, she still does the stupid stuff that she has always done (like fixed objects are suddenly in the bumper, and stops are suddenly just there. Seriously we grew up with the arm fling “seat belt”, not just occasionally but regularly.)

      Liked by 1 person

    1. WPDE. I think it ate my long comment. Steve Goodman wrote the song, and it’s got a flavor of bittersweet. (“This train’s got the disappearing railroad blues.”)

      If WP posts my long one, it’ll explain why it has a place in my heart. Let’s just say it gets mighty dusty when I think about it.

      Liked by 1 person

  10. Recently on (essentially, 4 different planes, going and coming – because heaven forbid we don’t take the roller-coaster ride out and to Oregon), while the stewards were helpful, it was other passengers who helped when the stewards were blocked (I can lift *2 different suitcases into and out of upper bins, but apparently short stuff, can’t more than 3x’s/day and needed help the other 5). They were also willing to help me sooner, and get off, so I could stay, more or less, behind mom as she was getting off. Did I pay it forward when I could? 100% Is it that way elsewhere, outside of the US? IDK we don’t travel outside the US.

    (*) Mine & mom’s. Neither were particularly heavy. Problem wasn’t lifting, it was lifting and shoving, or lifting and pulling when on my toes to get either over the edges.

    Learned a bit more about the “delay” at the port when sister and BIL flew in to LA from SE Asia. Not only were they exhausted, but the person using the wand through security was getting too close to the wheelchair. When supervisor was called the supervisor accused them of doing the bandaging/cast/boot themselves implying smuggling. BIL about lost it. Which is OMG, in their 32+ years together (marriage and dating), I’ve never seen, ever. Got past it all as they did get through and on the plane from LA to SF, and finally to Eugene. Yes, 4 planes to get home.

    There was a doctor’s appointment with the orthopedics specialists today. They saw urgent care last Friday. All I know currently, is there was no dislocation of either of the two bones. One with two fractures, one of which is a spiral fracture, and the other bone with either a fracture or a chip off the bottom. Cruise medical thought she’d have to have a plate to structurally reinforce the spiral fracture at minimum. No cost on cruise medical because she was hurt on a cruise packaged outing. She stepped off a high curb (much higher than normally seen in the states) and slipped. Bad luck.

    Like

  11. To me the song is more sweet than bitter. I can see the places in my mind, and hear the sound of the train rolling along. The US really is special. It is easy to forget when I have to spend so much time in the Stygian depths of political news that normal people are basically decent, and that not everyone is self-centered to the point of implosion.

    I once joked that only in the US are disasters catered. When a tornado hit the area around Flat State U., there were so many volunteers and so much food that we were invited to take extra with us, “in case someone else needs some.” The people who lost houses were helped within 24 hours, all finding places to stay, clothes, shoes, whatever was needed. Everyone pulled together and worked. It didn’t matter if you knew the folks or not, all hands turned out to provide assistance.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Locally. Our biggest disasters are fires, and valley floods. The basics are so well covered for those affected, that what stands out are the offers for pastures for animals and help moving them out of the way before stage 3 “evacuate now”.

      Granted the help afterwards is a bit slow, but that is our *lovely state and counties (depends on the county). Some locations, like Blue River (100% wiped out) came back quickly. Other locations, per bitter residents, not so easy.

      (*) That is not a compliment. Better than California and, apparently, Hawaii by reports, but still.

      Like

    2. Never ridden on a train. But this song always reminds me of the whistles in the middle of the night as they passed through my small Arizona town (which they no longer do, but it was every night when I was a sleepless child – which always put me to sleep).

      Still hear them going south of Tucson occasionally when it’s quiet at two or three in the mornings. Still does the same thing for me.

      Something magical about trains…

      Like

      2. Been on a train once. BIL was married on the scenic tour train somewhere out of Bend. Forget where. That was 34 years ago last August. We had to spend the night because of the schedule but “no children” wedding (NOT HAPPY). Had to leave our two year old with “distant” relatives.

        Okay. He had a ball. The “distant” relatives were his great-uncle, great-aunt, and 3 cousins; ages: uncle – 3 years older than hubby, aunt – 20 months older than me, and 3 years younger than hubby, and cousins – 14, 12, and almost 4 (20 months older than two year old). People he knew.

        Turns out train had a problem and having a two year old along really wouldn’t have been fun, not at all. But … Not like it was either bride’s or groom’s first or second wedding (was not happy, until got the babysitters lined up).

        Other than that, we live < 1 air miles from an old maintenance and switching yard. The maintenance has been shutdown. But it is still a major switching yard for freight cars and engines. We can here the horns going when they are approaching not one but three intersections. Less winter, when the rain/wind masks, and (most) the windows are closed at night. We tend to tune them out.

        Liked by 1 person

  12. Dag Nab it Sarah! I just changed the filters on the furnace and here you go getting them all clogged up!

    Like

  13. Ha! I figured you and Dan were from Northeastern Ohio! And I was right!

    Heh, settlement patterns are pretty much the most useful thing to learn in Ohio History. They’re not destiny for everybody, but they explain A Whole Lot.

    Yes, to travel in the US is to love the US. I’m sure it’s true of most places in the world, but the US has been awfully well-loved for someplace that’s so “new” and so sparsely settled. You can’t travel very far without seeing something charming or cool or bizarre, or a big hand-painted sign telling you about Jesus.

    Like

    1. Lt. Viktor Belenko defected from Russia, landing his latest-model MiG-25 in Japan. The CIA took him to DC for debriefing, put him on a stipend, and turned him loose.

      Belenko wanted to tour his new country by car, but had no driver’s license. So he went to his CIA handler, expecting they would arrange one for him. He was surprised that the CIA wasn’t willing to take on the DMV…

      Eventually getting his license and a car, he traveled all over, staying mostly on secondary roads, stopping at diners and listening to people. He didn’t say much due to his thick accent.

      Many years later there was a (hilarious) movie called “Leningrad Cowboys Go America.” In it, a Soviet musical group drives from New York to Mexico to play a gig. I was interested to note that their route closely paralleled Belenko’s, until they turned south.

      Like

  14. My Pastor used to work for Amtrak. I’ll ask if he ever worked on the City of New Orleans or if that predated his service. But he mentioned that he knows that Texas has the tallest capital building of the 50 states because he mentioned that every time his train went through Austin.

    Like

    1. The train was still in use at the time of Hurricane Katrina. Arlo Guthrie heard it was back in service and set up a benefit concert tour where they traveled by it. (First time he rode on it.)

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Illinois Central turned The City over to Amtrack in the early 70s, but they still kept the name for the morning (from Chicago) train.

      Like

Comments are closed.