Had a new entry into my all-time Top 5 Amtrak lowlights this past weekend. (#1: 1990. Loudspeaker announces we’ll have 20 minutes to kill in New Haven. We go outside. Train leaves five minutes later with our luggage. Travel companion tells customer service, “Your commercials say ‘something about a train is magic,’ but the only magic I’m seeing is the disappearing act you did with my bags.”)
I was picking up the Missus and Little G in New Rochelle, under strict orders not to be late due to the challenge of removing Little G and large suitcase from the train. Unfortunately, Amtrak didn’t get that memo; the Missus called and said it was due in 15 minutes late.
That gave us a little time to poke around the New Rochelle train station. New Ro is an interesting case study. They’ve built a couple Avalon high-rises next to the station, and Trump/Cappelli are joining forces to erect some 45-odd-story residence nearby. As the skell chatting with the coffee lady at the New Ro station–site of the infamous New Roc City riot four months previous–wondered Saturday, “Who the hell’s gonna pay $700K for a 1-bedroom in New Rochelle?”
Indeed. For all we hear about the resurgence of New Rochelle–30 minute commute, lively downtown, diverse–it hasn’t really happened. We did a reverse commute to New Ro for three months back in the wacky dot-com days, and despite all the reports about its renaissance, it looks exactly the same, only with two and a half giant apartment buildings now. Think of it as a tiny version of Detroit: gorgeous suburbs surrounding a dodgy downtown.
Anyway, back to the Amtrak debacle. The train pulled in, people got off, the conductors signaled to each other, and it took off. Where were the Missus and Little G?
“This is the Amtrak heading south, due in at 12:15…” I confirmed with a lady next to me. Indeed it was. I told her I couldn’t seem to locate my wife and baby.
“Maybe you’ll feel better if you call them,” she said. So I did. (Honestly, I was thinking of that even before she suggested it.)
I got the Missus on the second ring.
“WE MISSED THE STOP!” she yelled.
Turns out, they were in the back of the train. When it stopped, the Missus saw nothing but dark tunnel and figured they were pausing before approaching the station. Then, the train took off, and the conductor bellowed, “Next stop, Penn Station New York.”
Ever the dutiful husband and father, it was on to Gotham for me and my trusty chariot…er, minivan.
The Missus says there was no announcement for New Rochelle. I, however, suspect it was the free booze they’re giving out.
The Missus was probably right about there not being any announcement.
I just took the ol’ Amtrak up to Albany this weekend, and they do announce the station about 20 minutes ahead of time, but when the train actually arrives at the station, it’s complete silence. No flashing lights, no announcer (not even a computer-generated voice), no beeping or bells ringing. You can’t even hear the sound of the doors opening if you are seated.
And I don’t know about that free booze; I couldn’t even get as much as a diet coke on my train.
Pingback: In Defense of New Rochelle » trainjotting.com
There is a photo contest devoted and sponsored by AmTrak. The winner will receive $1,000. Your photos must have a picture of the new Amtrak logo and their trains. Good luck! http://www.photocompete.com/2008/05/12/picture-our-train-2009-wall-calendar-photo-contest/