First error in judgment…trains don’t check luggage, at least for compartment passengers. We were stuck carrying luggage for three persons planning a month long stay. Upon arrival in New York, we had to schlepp our luggage around Penn Station until time to board our train to Boston.
Taking the steps to the platform, all was a balancing act…dragging the luggage on a cheap set of wheels, keeping an eye on the kids with constant motion swirling about us. The wheels caught on something or other and one quick jerk later-the luggage, a manual typewriter, kid snacks, toys-tumbled all the way down the steps-sort of like the baby carriage scene in The Untouchables.
Before I had time to think about taking a good long cry, a guy appeared out of nowhere. He wore a Con Ed hard hat and was dressed in a work uniform…he scooped up everything that had tumbled away from us and said, “Where’s your train?”
He escorted my kids and I aboard and after stowing my luggage up front, he suggested I sit down with the kids and just relax for a second, the stuff would be fine where it was for the time being. I watched my son and daughter scramble for a seat and turned to thank this guy who came out of nowhere.
He was gone.
Just like that.
As suddenly as he had appeared…now nowhere to be found.
Do I believe in angels?
You better believe it.
Mine wore a hard hat.
(P.S. For the return trip, I shipped our luggage back home. We never traveled by train again).