Trip Report: Home on a VERY late Late F’Shure Limited

I’d heard the mornings incoming Lake Shore at Chicago was late and wondered if we’d be late leaving Chicago.  But when I arrived at 6:50, the board said it was on-time.  So I walked a few blocks up the canal for my last chance at exercise.  When I returned I found a gigantic line stretching through the Amtrak boarding area.  Apparently both we and the Capital Limited would be late boarding by at least an hour, though nobody seemed to have truly hard information.  Something about a dinning car problem.

At first disruptions like this bring people together.  A fellow behind me couldn’t speak English.  I can’t speak Spanish, but the search for someone who did brought me together the charming Russian immigrants behind me.  Then I heard music and found a group of dirty interesting young travelers (ie, without a permanent home)  who (I was pleased to see) had an accordion and ukulele.  A likable Dartmouth student joined us. We made plans to play music and sing and play charades later in the lounge car.

Turns out the travelers are artists and are on a break from floating down the Mississippi on a raft they made themselves.

It was 10:15 before our 7:55 scheduled departure boarded.  As the line moved forward a tall black woman was yelling at everyone, “have your tickets out of the envelopes,” over and over.  I heard later on the train that she had been really rude to a number of people.  Hopefully some apology and information announcements had earlier been made, but from my part of the line we couldn’t hear any.  This women was my first contact with Amtrak staff.  Then as we headed out to the train we were handed a bottle of water and a bag of chips.  I assume this was “service recovery” for being late, but no explanation was offered, nothing to explain why we were getting this.  No welcome aboard or apology; no words at all.  Tickets were collected in the station and quickly people went to sleep.  We postponed the music in the lounge car for the morning.         

The coaches were almost completely full.  At Toledo it was announced that the train was completely sold out.

Morning light came at Toledo; 6:45 am.  Word circulated that the train was 6 hours late.  And still we were crawling behind a string of yellow blocks.  Perhaps it was 30mph, all across the top of Ohio and Pennsylvania.  I had a very nice and reasonably priced breakfast in the rebuilt and half-empty dinning car.  The steward had been good at making good announcements promoting the dinning car, but the volume of the PA in my car was too low to hear.  It would really help to pass out menus for coach passengers.

As people roused themselves in the morning they became aware of how late the train was (now 7 hours) and grumbling became louder.  Many “never again’s”.  Boston passengers started to wonder what was going to happen when they arrived in Boston after the public transit system had shut.  People started alerting their hosts.  I lent my cell-phone to someone without so she could call her friend.

At Buffalo a man got on wearing at badge but who did otherwise not look like a policeman.  He had paperwork in his hand.  I heard later that he was asking male passengers for their name and ID (he didn’t ask me).

Finally, the accordion players roused themselves and started playing, first at the end of the coach and later in the lounge.  I wasn’t sure if them playing music in the coach was a good thing and decided that if I hung around and listened I’d be blocking the aisle and causing a problem.  But when they moved to the lounge I happily joined them and we sang for quite awhile.  The lounge was almost. Completely full.

Now we were nine hours late.  Without warning, Hector from the dinning car announced “Free Food”.  That was it.  No apology for being late, not even an announcement just sort of word of mouth.  Of course we all understood why it was being offered.  First Hector told us in the lounge car - we filed into the dinner and picked it up: Microwaved Beef stew (only one option, no vegetarian) and a snack pack and water in a cardboard to-go box.  Very airline food-like.  I suppose they had put it on in Buffalo or Rochester.  After our group, Hector loaded up bags of it and brought them back to the coaches.

At Syracuse there were two boarder patrol agents on the platform.  I could see this made a Hispanic man nervous, but they didn't bother him.

It was interesting watching the mood of the train.  We went through all the stages of grief about being so late.  Denial: “maybe we’ll make up some time!?”; Bargaining: “I’m getting my money back;”  Anger: “I’m never riding a train again;” Depression: a few people did give up with a kind of hopelessness and decided to get off early and make other arrangements; Grief: I did see tears on one woman’s face - I think because of a missed connection and the unhelpful reaction of her friend she was meeting.  After we were fed people seemed to feel better and we came to acceptance and the agitation of the morning subsided and we realized how tired we all were.

The lounge car was definitely the fun place to be.  I’m of the “always room for one more” philosophy, and I’d never want to use more than my share of space there at someone else’s expense, but I did notice that some people decided it was “full” (which didn’t mean all the seats were taken, but that all the tables had someone sitting at them).  By mid-day it had turned very social and people were hanging out with each other having some very interesting conversations.

The train crew were noticeably scarce, like they were embarrassed by how the train was running and didn’t want to deal with it.  The conductors were absent from their usual table in the lounge car.  I overheard a radio conversation about a relief crew, which I think took over from the Toledo crew somewhere before Buffalo.  That crew was relieved at Schenectady.  (According to the maps that Train Magazine recently published, the Toledo crew would usually go all the way to Buffalo and an Albany would take over in Buffalo.)

A conductor between between western NY and Schenectady was snippy.  “Put your shoes on” he growled on seeing me in my coach with sock feet on.  When I was ready to get off in Schenectady he asked me not to stand in the vestibule.  When I stepped onto the first step as we were slowing he barked at me (he had already stepped onto the platform).  Another passenger was slow in exiting and got a “come on, hurry up!”

Arrival was nine and a half hours late.