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Re: (erielack) Cleveland-Buffalo
Mike
Your trip must have been on a Saturday night, Sunday morning. On that night
the thru cars went east on Train 14, a Sunday morning train rather than
train 8 which did not run on Saturday night from Buffalo. Train 14 which
left between 1 am and 2 am run in lieu of train 8 and train 2. Otherwise
you and your father would not have time to go to a restaurant in Buffalo.
Art Tross
At 01:07 PM 2/10/07 -0500, you wrote:
>I shared this with the Nickel Plate list awhile back and since we have
>been talking about the Lackawanna terminal in Buffalo, thought you might
>enjoy this personal remembrance. If you were familiar with Cleveland
>Union Terminal you'll recognize some of the description also.
>
>-----
>
>I grew up on the west side of Cleveland and my parents were from the
>Wyoming Valley of PA and several times in the 1950s we traveled by train
>from Cleveland to Scranton. I think I remember most clearly the last
>time in November 1959 when my grandfather died. I was eight years old
>and really excited about taking the train. We got to ride down to the
>Terminal Tower in one of those Yellow Checker Cabs which was another
>plus. While waiting for the cab to come I can remember my dad taking me
>aside and saying don't be to too excited because we are going to a funeral.
>
>The Cleveland Union Terminal was one of those wonderful places. From
>the perspective of a little boy, the waiting room was so huge and the
>large chandeliers were not quite bright enough. There was this large
>painted mural back against the one wall with pictures of guys on horses
>and it looked like their clothes were coming off. I wasn't sure what
>that had to do with trains and may have even felt a little embarrassed
>looking at it. A man came over to the gate and advanced the black
>scroll with the white lettering ( kind of faded to yellow) that read,
>NICKEL PLATE ROAD, TRAIN NO.8, THE NEW YORKER....The wait seemed like
>forever. People were dressed up, men wearing suits and ties and a lot
>of people smoking. Even today when I smell a cigar, it can take me back
>a little to those days. I didn't like getting dressed up normally, but
>here I didn't mind it so much because I felt "big" like those business
>men waiting around me.
>
>Finally, the rumble began underneath the station. It got louder and
>louder and slowly died off. The man opened the gate, but you still
>couldn't go down until the passengers came up. I wanted to get down
>there in the worst way. They announced the train's arrival and
>destinations over the loudspeaker, but the sound system and acoustics
>were so bad, you could hardly understand what was being said. We waited
>in line until that magic moment finally came to walk down those stairs.
>Down below it was dark and mysterious and steam was rising from under
>the cars. On the other track were unlit New York Central cars.
>
>We were directed to the through coach to Hoboken. Climbing aboard, it
>actually seemed like two cars because of the divider in the middle. I
>remember the large pictures they had in the coach, one of them was an
>aerial view of Cleveland Municipal Stadium. Of course once in my seat I
>had to investigate and make sure everything was in proper working order;
>the footrest in all positions and the overhead reading light had to be
>turned on and off several times. Finally, you could here the traps
>closing and the car began to glide forward. We were on our way!
>
>Fast Forward to Buffalo...
>
>It was late and I could hardly stay awake, but I had to, not wanting to
>miss what was coming. After all the darkness, the plunge into the
>Buffalo Station lit up the car. The inside of the Buffalo Terminal
>seemed brighter than downstairs in the Cleveland Terminal. Outside all
>that neat maroon and gray on other tracks. I never got to see that
>around Cleveland. I don't remember any people getting off or on in our
>car since everyone was going to Lackawanna destinations. Pretty soon
>the car went completely dark and we started drifting backwards, then
>forward again as a switcher began pulling the train apart. Since we
>were going to be here for awhile, my dad and I got off and went to a
>little all-night diner across the street. (I had hot chocolate.) My
>mom stayed on the coach with my sleeping sisters. When we got back on,
>the car men came into our coach and began turning the seats around so
>they faced the opposite direction. That was noisy and disrupted
>everyone trying to sleep. Some parents asked not to have the seat
>turned because they didn't want sleeping children to awaken. Soon we
>were getting ready to go and fatigue was beginning to get the best of
>me. Slowly the car began to move and I stayed looking out the window
>only until we left the station lights and were out in the darkness
>again. Then I laid across the seat and gave in to sleep. Lackawanna's
>New Yorker was on its way Scranton.
>
>Sorry for the lengthy discourse guys, but after 47 years that's some of
>my remembrance of the NKP (and DL&W).
>
>Mike Oravec
>
>
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