The frustration and push to find monsieur requires a recharge of the mind and spirit. Amtrak is the answer. The day before the trip, I head toward the downtown area, and locate the historic Union Station. As a very young child this building started my love for trains when my class went on a short but memorable trip. The 0730 departure will place me in St. Louis at 1300 hours or 1:30 pm for those nonmilitary people.
8/3/2010. Reality hits the back of my eyelids at the same time that the alarm began its gentle ring. My morning routine kicks into high gear and by 05:30, I picked up my son’s son (yes, he is my grandson but I can’t wrap my mouth around that word) and pulled into the parking lot and begin unloading the car. Two back packs, a stroller, and a two-year-old in tow, we head towards the loading area. I was not expecting such a large crowd on a Wednesday morning. Families with small children, couples, college students and the elderly. Every walk of life were ready to board. The loud-speaker began the announcement, “All Aboard, All Aboard” and the crowd went into motion. There were no red caps in site nor elevators. Narrow steps led to an open platform where loading actually occurred. I was manhandling the umbra stroller to no avail and finally removed my travel partner from it so we could board. It was an embarrassing moment trying to fold the crazy thing up. I finally placed my g—-son in the train then practically threw the stroller on before finally climbing the stairs. He was so helpful, stretching his small hands out to assist. The search for the elusive monsieur would have to wait.