Monday, March 24, 2008
The South Shore Line
Lately, I've been thinking about trains a lot. It might have a lot to do with the fact that I've been reading a lot of Paul Theroux lately. It might also have to do with my impending move to New York City and giving up my car. This means that most of my short to medium trips will suddenly take place on rails rather than tires. I've always loved the train. We lived near the Amtrak rails to Detroit, and the city I lived in revolved around the South Shore Line.
The commuter railroad which runs between South Bend and Chicago is enjoying a renaissance and is now the 10th largest Commuter Rail system in the country, despite having only one rail line. Each year five million passengers take a seat on the silver Japanese rail cars. But when I was younger, the South Shore was a different animal, wheezing on life support and way past its prime.
I remember riding the rails with my mother to the South Side of Chicago when she went to work. We'd grab a donut next to the old station in downtown Michigan City, where the train still rides down the middle of the street. We'd hop in the very old Orange cars, vintage 1910 Pullman, for a slow ride. The train cars had stickers on them that said "The Little Train That Could." This was no joke, these train cars were built to last but after 70 years of daily use, the fact that they functioned at all was a bit of a miracle. I remember summer days, sitting on the ripped up horsehair seats, springs sometimes pushing through the cushion. I remember walking to what seemed like a mail car at the time during hot days, standing by the door that the conductors would leave open, so that there was a chance to cool off when the air conditioners would invariably break down.
For commuters, the South Shore was a nightmare. People avoided it in droves and on several occasions in the 1980's, it almost shut down, eventually being sold to a quasi-public company in Indiana for one dollar in 1989. As the government finally started to step in and help the railroad survive - which even in its worst years was getting nearly a million passengers to and from Chicago - new shiny steel cars that worked were introduced. The magic lessened for me, but its never disappeared. Almost every visit home involves a ride on the South Shore. There's always an odd duck to observe in the car, something strange to see out the window along the industrial remnants of Lake and Cook Counties. The train is special. And for me, it always will be.
The commuter railroad which runs between South Bend and Chicago is enjoying a renaissance and is now the 10th largest Commuter Rail system in the country, despite having only one rail line. Each year five million passengers take a seat on the silver Japanese rail cars. But when I was younger, the South Shore was a different animal, wheezing on life support and way past its prime.
I remember riding the rails with my mother to the South Side of Chicago when she went to work. We'd grab a donut next to the old station in downtown Michigan City, where the train still rides down the middle of the street. We'd hop in the very old Orange cars, vintage 1910 Pullman, for a slow ride. The train cars had stickers on them that said "The Little Train That Could." This was no joke, these train cars were built to last but after 70 years of daily use, the fact that they functioned at all was a bit of a miracle. I remember summer days, sitting on the ripped up horsehair seats, springs sometimes pushing through the cushion. I remember walking to what seemed like a mail car at the time during hot days, standing by the door that the conductors would leave open, so that there was a chance to cool off when the air conditioners would invariably break down.
For commuters, the South Shore was a nightmare. People avoided it in droves and on several occasions in the 1980's, it almost shut down, eventually being sold to a quasi-public company in Indiana for one dollar in 1989. As the government finally started to step in and help the railroad survive - which even in its worst years was getting nearly a million passengers to and from Chicago - new shiny steel cars that worked were introduced. The magic lessened for me, but its never disappeared. Almost every visit home involves a ride on the South Shore. There's always an odd duck to observe in the car, something strange to see out the window along the industrial remnants of Lake and Cook Counties. The train is special. And for me, it always will be.
Labels: chicago, nictd, south shore line, trains, travel
Roger, 8:53 PM
