# Another "just for fun" post.



## AZ Jim (Apr 27, 2015)

Make a snapshot of a childhood memory and share it with us.  Here's one from me.  In 1942 both my mom and dad were working in defense so they had to park me somewhere.  The government had day care centers for kids like me.  Thinking back the staff had to be just teenage girls.  They fed us lunch each day and I'll never forget the "pusher" rule.  They furnished a small square piece of toast with each meal which they told us was for pushing food on our forks.  The rule was, and they reminded us frequently, "DO NOT EAT THE PUSHER TILL THE MEAL IS FINISHED!!  At the time, I assumed that nothing short of torture and possible death would be imposed should we forget and consume that little piece of toast.

What's your snapshot memory???


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## Josiah (Apr 27, 2015)

My snapshot is from exactly the same period. The main aqueduct supplying New York City with water from upstate ran just a quarter of a mile from the house where I grew up. It was a favorite place for me and other neighborhood kids (mostly boys) to hangout because it was wonderfully wild and vacant. That vacancy ended one day when I was suddenly approached by two armed soldiers rifles at the ready. They were guarding the aqueduct and didn't I know I wasn't suppose to be there. Clearly they didn't know this was my secret wild place and had been for years. The standoff ended peacefully with our agreeing to share the area, plus I got offered my first cigarette which at the age of 8 I politely turned down.


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## GeorgiaXplant (Apr 27, 2015)

Mmhmm. My mother and aunt took my older brother and me shopping. He got a _sailor suit_ complete with a bosun's whistle and a white sailor cap. I got a stupid red wool cardigan sweater. Every time I see that darned picture, I get mad all over again. My brother had just turned five; I was 3 1/2.

When we went to Hawaii, he got to take his sailor suit, of course. There was really no need for a wool cardigan of any color in Hawaii. I was glad to leave it behind. The first night at sea we were invited to sit at the captain's table. My brother and mother were seasick and didn't go to dinner, but the captain called for me at our door and escorted me to dinner. It had been my brother's plan to wear his sailor suit.


ETA: I don't remember for sure but think we must have been either the only civilians or among very few civilians on the ship. There were hundreds of sailors. Maybe thousands? So my brother wore that blankety-blank sailor suit every chance he got. I may forgive him the sailor suit on my deathbed.


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## Josiah (Apr 27, 2015)

GeorgiaXplant said:


> Mmhmm. My mother and aunt took my older brother and me shopping. He got a _sailor suit_ complete with a bosun's whistle and a white sailor cap. I got a stupid red wool cardigan sweater. Every time I see that darned picture, I get mad all over again. My brother had just turned five; I was 3 1/2.
> 
> When we went to Hawaii, he got to take his sailor suit, of course. There was really no need for a wool cardigan of any color in Hawaii. I was glad to leave it behind. The first night at sea we were invited to sit at the captain's table. My brother and mother were seasick and didn't go to dinner, but the captain called for me at our door and escorted me to dinner. It had been my brother's plan to wear his sailor suit.



Nothings much more fun than having your brother sea sick and your going to dinner with the captain. You should have borrowed your brother's sailor cap.


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## GeorgiaXplant (Apr 27, 2015)

I should have worn the whole splendid outfit and probably would have if my mother had let me. Don't remember, but it wouldn't surprise me to find out that I asked.

stupid red sweater


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## Josiah (Apr 27, 2015)

Did any one ever run away from home? I did. I took my piggy bank and the family dog.  I got to come home in a police car.


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## GeorgiaXplant (Apr 27, 2015)

Gosh, Josiah. You and Jim and I might be the only ones who had adventures.

On the day after Christmas, 1946, I put my new doll in the new doll carriage that Santa brought me, put on my snowsuit and boots and ran away from one grandmother's house to the other grandmother's house. It was a distance of about a mile. I left in time to get to my other grandmother's house in time for lunch. Don't remember why I was running away. When I got to Grandma's, she called my mother (we were living with my maternal grandparents when we came back from Hawaii, while my parents were looking for a home to buy). My mother declared, like the Queen, "We are not amused."


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## Josiah (Apr 27, 2015)

This thread is young, it has legs.


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## Debby (Apr 27, 2015)

My childhood memories aren't something that I want to think about much so I think I'll abstain.


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## AZ Jim (Apr 27, 2015)

Well lets wait a little.  Others are searching their memories.


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## Shalimar (Apr 27, 2015)

Apparently I ran away from home at the age of three because my mother insisted I wear clothes. In protest at this infringement of my rights as a free child, I left, wearing only my shoes and a hat. I took the family dog, and all the cookies. We lived in a small first nation village where my mother taught school. When finally apprehended, I refused to speak English for three days, only Kwakiutl. That is how I earned my name, Ah-ha, little girl of Ahousat.


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## AZ Jim (Apr 27, 2015)

Still take an occasional stroll  like that?  If so what kind of shoes?


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## GeorgiaXplant (Apr 27, 2015)

Shoes, Jim. I didn't know men cared about shoes. I'm not much for shoes myself, but I'd be interested in hearing about the hat


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## Shalimar (Apr 27, 2015)

Georgia, I love hats and shoes. I have one of my grandmother's hats circ about 1915. Cream coloured with big brim, feathers, flowers, veil, handmade. Have the matching gloves. Wear it with my stilleto heels, and clothes!!


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## QuickSilver (Apr 27, 2015)

Josiah said:


> Did any one ever run away from home? I did. I took my piggy bank and the family dog.  I got to come home in a police car.



I tried to once, but I didn't think it through really well.   I must have been about 3 years old.  I don't remember what had me so upset, but I ran out the front door and down the block.  I got as far as the end of the block when I noticed I was dressed only in my underpants..   I was mortified.. even at that age.


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## jujube (Apr 27, 2015)

I ran away once when I was, maybe, five or six.  I packed my little suitcase and took off for grandma's house.  Unfortunately, when I reached the end of the street, there was a road I wasn't allowed to cross, so I just stood there for a while and fumed.  Then I decided to head back home and hide out in the wellhouse until my mother got frantic and called the police.  It never occurred to me that she knew exactly where I was.  There I was, fuming in the dark, spidery and damp ol' wellhouse, peeking out through the door and seeing the family sitting down for dinner WITHOUT ME!!!  NOBODY WAS MISSING ME!!  THE POLICE HADN'T BEEN CALLED!!  I was crushed.  I was also hungry, so I gave in and went in the house.  It was highly unsuccessful and I didn't try it again.


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## GeorgiaXplant (Apr 27, 2015)

Gosh, jujube, sorry your running-away adventure didn't have a better outcome. At least I got lunch out of mine. And a ride home from Grampa because he was home for lunch every day so when he'd had his lunch, too, he drove me and my doll and doll carriage back to the other grandparents' house. Of course, it was the dead of winter and snowy and cold, and I was just a little girl. Not too snowy and cold to run away but he thought much too snowy and cold to "run home".


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## SeaBreeze (Apr 27, 2015)

My snapshot is from 1957, I was four years old and it was Christmas eve, talk of Christmas all around but no signs of it in my house (apartment).  My parents didn't get a tree until Christmas eve, because they could get one cheap then.  They would buy a small Charlie Brown type tree and hide it out on the fire escape.  I never knew that or saw it there.  I was made to go to bed early, so I'd be well rested for Christmas day.  My family would wrap everyone's presents and hide them, and I was never the wiser.  Early in the morning before I got up, somebody, probably my mother, would go into the kitchen and plug the tree lights, bubble lights and colored bulbs.  While I slept they put the hanging strands of tinsel on the tree and put the presents underneath.  There weren't many, very simple really, but the best memories of my childhood.  When I walked into the kitchen and saw that little tree all lit up on the table, I was delighted...it was so special, I guess I thought Santa did it all.  :sentimental:


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## Shalimar (Apr 27, 2015)

Beautiful memory SB. Made my lip tremble. Got the Wobblies big time.:sentimental:


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## Shalimar (Apr 27, 2015)

Jujube, so sorry no one missed you. If you run away again, I promise to miss you very much:love_heart:


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## Rob (Apr 28, 2015)

When I was about 10/11 I was living in Torquay, a large seaside town on the south coast of Devon. In the summer you could hire small motor boats from the harbour for two shillings and sixpence per hour. You were only supposed to use them in the confines of the inner and outer harbours but me being me, got bored and decided to take it out of the outer harbour into the REAL sea. The weather was calm and I set off around the coast towards Hope's Nose (a long promontory to the east of Torquay and about 2 miles away), there was a large sea cave there I knew about from fishing and I planned to explore it from the inside. Mission accomplished, after about an hour I set off back to the harbour but ran out of petrol about half way back. The tide was on the ebb and i was rapidly being taken out into Torbay were the waves were more than enough to swamp a little boat with no power. I was taking on water at a fair rate and if it hadn't been for a passing motor yacht I would have eventually sunk, there were no safety rules back then so no life jacket, and although I could swim I don't think I could have made it back to shore as I was probably a mile out. I was taken back to the harbour and severely admonished by the boat hirer AND made to pay another 2s/6p for the extra time.

I was late home for tea and made up some excuse why I was late, missed the bus or something. I never told my parents about my little adventure although it could have turned out much more serious.

My "odyssey" (approx) ...


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## Laurie (Apr 28, 2015)

Being lonely, frightened and hungry most of the time.


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## Ameriscot (Apr 28, 2015)

I was 7, my brother was 3.  One of the neighbour kids got him to stand on his wagon and pull down the handle on a pole on the street which alerts the fire department.  Fire trucks arrived, my mom caught hell from the firemen even though she said it wasn't her son that was responsible.

Sorry, Laurie.  My husband grew up in Glasgow and I think he was hungry many times.


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## Ameriscot (Apr 28, 2015)

Shalimar said:


> Apparently I ran away from home at the age of three because my mother insisted I wear clothes. In protest at this infringement of my rights as a free child, I left, wearing only my shoes and a hat. I took the family dog, and all the cookies. We lived in a small first nation village where my mother taught school. When finally apprehended, I refused to speak English for three days, only Kwakiutl. That is how I earned my name, Ah-ha, little girl of Ahousat.



Funny!  My youngest granddaughter does not like to wear clothes.  She's nearly 5.  When I Skype the family she is always running around in her underwear.  Hope she doesn't take her clothes off in kindergarten!

Had to google Kwakiutl as I'd never heard of it.  Interesting.  More stories please!


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## Shalimar (Apr 28, 2015)

By your command, Annie. Listen all, to the story of the great chicken liberation. Ah-ha, as I was called by everyone but my mother, is now five.  Blessed with an innocent appearance that would have put Shirley Temple to shame, I,was enthralled by the stories of Canadian history with which my patriotic mother filled my head. The persecution of the United Empire Loyalists filled me with rage. One child's traitor is another's heroine. I determined to strike a blow(almost two hundred years late) for my beleaguered people. (two relatives).  Anyway after an extensive recon. I was convinced that the next door neighbour, an  American known throughout the village for his dislike of children, was secretly harbouring imprisoned Loyalist children's chained and beaten in his hen house. It was my duty to rescue them no matter the cost. Through massive manipulation, wide eyed innocence, and lies, I convinced two of my First Nation buddies to help me. Stripped naked, except for moccasins, and woven basket camoflage, we set out to liberate our tortured brothers and sisters. Flat on our tummies, we slipped under the fence, and belly-walked our way through the grass to the chicken run. Covered in mud, and goop, we carefully checked for the presence of the Enemy. Nowhere to be seen. Time to attack, uttering blood curdling screams, we forced our way inside!(by opening the door). Searching everywhere, and bolstering our courage with war chants, we set about the rescue. Sadly, the children were gone, no doubt murdered before we could save them. Alas, we were too late. Our blood was up, and we did the only thing we could, we liberated the imprisoned Loyalist chickens. All thirty of them. It was glorious!!


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## Ameriscot (Apr 28, 2015)

:lofl:  Sooooo.....you've always loved trouble!?  You're a hero!


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## Shalimar (Apr 28, 2015)

What can I say, Annie? Even then, I walked (crawled) the road less travelled. Any mischief occurred in the village, for some reason the constable questioned me first. Always protested my innocence, unless someone else would be blamed. I could cry on command. Oh, the adventures we had!


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## Ameriscot (Apr 28, 2015)

Shalimar said:


> What can I say, Annie? Even then, I walked (crawled) the road less travelled. Any mischief occurred in the village, for some reason the constable questioned me first. Always protested my innocence, unless someone else would be blamed. I could cry on command. Oh, the adventures we had!



LOL!!  Sounds like you did NOT have a boring childhood.


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## Ameriscot (Apr 28, 2015)

Rob said:


> When I was about 10/11 I was living in Torquay, a large seaside town on the south coast of Devon. In the summer you could hire small motor boats from the harbour for two shillings and sixpence per hour. You were only supposed to use them in the confines of the inner and outer harbours but me being me, got bored and decided to take it out of the outer harbour into the REAL sea. The weather was calm and I set off around the coast towards Hope's Nose (a long promontory to the east of Torquay and about 2 miles away), there was a large sea cave there I knew about from fishing and I planned to explore it from the inside. Mission accomplished, after about an hour I set off back to the harbour but ran out of petrol about half way back. The tide was on the ebb and i was rapidly being taken out into Torbay were the waves were more than enough to swamp a little boat with no power. I was taking on water at a fair rate and if it hadn't been for a passing motor yacht I would have eventually sunk, there were no safety rules back then so no life jacket, and although I could swim I don't think I could have made it back to shore as I was probably a mile out. I was taken back to the harbour and severely admonished by the boat hirer AND made to pay another 2s/6p for the extra time.
> 
> I was late home for tea and made up some excuse why I was late, missed the bus or something. I never told my parents about my little adventure although it could have turned out much more serious.
> 
> My "odyssey" (approx) ...



You were VERY lucky!  Did your parents ever find out?


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## Ralphy1 (Apr 28, 2015)

Well, well, Shali, the curtain has been pulled back to reveal a brat...nthego:


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## Shalimar (Apr 28, 2015)

Not at all, Ralphy. Rather a budding social activist, and revolutionary for chicken's rights.


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## Ameriscot (Apr 28, 2015)

Shalimar said:


> Not at all, Ralphy. Rather a budding social activist, and revolutionary for chicken's rights.



Aye, Ralphy, social activist, not a brat!  layful:


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## Shalimar (Apr 28, 2015)

Thank you Annie!:love_heart:


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## Ralphy1 (Apr 28, 2015)

Stop the nonsense, impartial minds know the difference...


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## Shalimar (Apr 28, 2015)

Tell us about your childhood experiences Ralphy, if you've a mind too.


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## Ralphy1 (Apr 28, 2015)

Certainly, I emerged from the womb a law-abiding citizen and have never gone astray, never, ever...


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## Shalimar (Apr 28, 2015)

Stick with us Ralphy and you can enjoy a second childhood full of misadventure.:love_heart:


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## Ralphy1 (Apr 28, 2015)

I will remain a good boy who was only led slightly astray once out of curiosity about the female anatomy...


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## GeorgiaXplant (Apr 28, 2015)

Laurie said:


> Being lonely, frightened and hungry most of the time.



That's so sad, Laurie. I hope life has been kinder to you now that you're grown. I understand lonely and frightened. Fortunately, I was never hungry.

As for you, Shalimar...chicken liberator?


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## Shalimar (Apr 28, 2015)

Yes, Georgia, those Loyalist chickens were enslaved! Lol.


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## Shalimar (Apr 28, 2015)

That is sad, Laurie. No child should endure that. Unfortunately, so many do.


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## Rob (Apr 28, 2015)

Ameriscot said:


> You were VERY lucky!  Did your parents ever find out?



Er ... no, although they DID find out about the time when I got stuck halfway up a cliff at Berry Head quarry near Brixham and had to be roped up to the top by the coast guard.


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## Shalimar (Apr 28, 2015)

Wow, Rob, that was quite the adventure!


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## Rob (Apr 28, 2015)

I didn't think so at the time. Isn't that what kids are supposed to do ... climb stuff.


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## Shalimar (Apr 28, 2015)

Rob, kids love to climb stuff. I certainly did. Liked to jump off things even more!


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## Ameriscot (Apr 28, 2015)

Rob, you are lucky to have survived childhood!


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## Butterfly (Apr 30, 2015)

I decided to run away from home when I was about 6 or 7.  I imagined the horrible grief of my parents when they discovered their lovely child had gone off into the world to protest their horrible mistreatment of me (they wouldn't let me stay up and listen to Inner Sanctum on the radio with them).  As I prepared to leave with my worldly goods in my little dolly suitcase, I announced to my mother I was leaving forever, she told me my sister would probably be happy to have the bedroom to herself, told me to watch out for wild animals and offered to pack me a lunch.  I stomped out, got about a block away and thought better of it.  Humph!! So much for the terrible grief of my parents at my departure.


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## hollydolly (Apr 30, 2015)

Debby said:


> My childhood memories aren't something that I want to think about much so I think I'll abstain.



Ditto, Debby...but I still have a few memories that I can recall which are still worth telling albeit small ones.. but one I remember was my very first trip on a Steam train .

I was 7 years old and we were moving from an East coast city  to a  West coast city ..I'd never been in any kind of moving vehicle until then, not a car or a bus or anything..I'd never seen the countryside apart from the field next to our house, I just didn't know it existed 

We'd been told not to tell any of our friends we were moving home, I have no idea why, but anyway it was a Saturday morning, and we left our house with suitcases and my school satchel on my back with whatever my parents had filled it with. I remember my friends calling to me , telling me it was Saturday why did I have my school bag..it's not a school day, but I could only wave to them and say nothing. . We got to the train station, and I couldn't believe my eyes at these Huge Monsters on wheels, the smell, the atmosphere, the people everywhere, I stood there in wonderment. 

We got on the train which in those days were individual compartment trains with corridors and in each compartment the luggage racks above the  thick embroidered red cloth seats ..like a little hotel room all to ourselves. Today that journey would only take about 90 minutes but way back in the very early 60's it was about 3 hours...3 hours of blissfully looking out of the window watching all the beautiful Scottish scenery go past , and all the steam and the smell  from the coal driven engine..absolute joy!

Those trains were withdrawn decades ago and today are only ever used for short distance travel in tourist spots ...but I never lost my love for them.


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## Shalimar (Apr 30, 2015)

What a lovely story, Holly, and a beautiful picture.


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## hollydolly (Apr 30, 2015)

Thanks Shali..


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## Ameriscot (Apr 30, 2015)

Great story, Holly!


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## Ameriscot (Apr 30, 2015)

I was 7 and had made my first communion.  My mom was in the hospital as she'd had a serious stroke.  So I was taken to the hospital in my first communion outfit (looks a bit like a wedding dress and veil) to show my mother.  I remember everyone we passed in the corridors looking at me. Don't remember seeing my mother though.


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## jujube (Apr 30, 2015)

Butterfly said:


> I decided to run away from home when I was about 6 or 7.  I imagined the horrible grief of my parents when they discovered their lovely child had gone off into the world to protest their horrible mistreatment of me (they wouldn't let me stay up and listen to Inner Sanctum on the radio with them).  As I prepared to leave with my worldly goods in my little dolly suitcase, I announced to my mother I was leaving forever, she told me my sister would probably be happy to have the bedroom to herself, told me to watch out for wild animals and offered to pack me a lunch.  I stomped out, got about a block away and thought better of it.  Humph!! So much for the terrible grief of my parents at my departure.



Are you sure you aren't one of my sisters?  Sounds like we had the same mom - lol!


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## GeorgiaXplant (Apr 30, 2015)

I remember those wonderful trains, Hollydolly. When we went to Hawaii, we traveled from northern Wisconsin to Chicago, then from Chicago to the West Coast by train. I thought it was the most wonderful adventure ever. When we passed The Great Salt Lake, my brother was jumping up and down exclaiming that we were in California because he could see the ocean.

When we came back after the war, we travelled by train, too, that time our ship docked in Seattle where we stayed for a few weeks with my mother's aunt, then by train again to Chicago before heading home to Wisconsin.

The big events to a little kid? Meals in the dining car and getting to sleep in a berth on a Pullman car. I doubt that my brother or I ever whined about being bored or asking "Are we there yet?"

On the way there, we had breakfast at the railroad station in Chicago, and before we got on the ship in San Francisco, we stayed at the Mark Hopkins Hotel. Oh, my, it was the grandest place I'd ever seen. It was Easter time, and my brother and I were very concerned that we wouldn't get Easter baskets. We did, of course, since the Easter bunny is like Santa and knows where to find little kids.


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## jujube (Apr 30, 2015)

When I was young, we used to ride the train between Indianapolis and Norfolk, Va.   I can remember the excitement of going to Union Station in Indianapolis...a vast expanse of marble, echoing with the announcements, few of which you could actually understand because of the aforementioned echoes.  There were always servicemen sleeping on the benches.  I swear it was the size of the Roman coliseum.  There was a real sense of adventure to the place. You WERE GOING SOMEWHERE.

My first serious train riding was in the mid 60's when my sister and I spent three months roaming around Europe courtesy of a Eurail Pass.  To save the $2-3 or so it would take to get a hostel or fleabag hotel room, we'd find a train leaving between 10 p.m. and midnight that would take 6-8 hours to get where we wanted to go and sleep on the train.  We'd pack some food (who could pay the prices to eat on a train????) and off we'd go.  

There were always adventures.  One night, the train stopped somewhere in the Alps and took on a load of elite Austrian "ski soldiers" who had been on maneuvers.  You get the picture:  randy soldiers and American teenage girls.  I slept with one eye open and a metal nail file in my hand that night.  

 Another time, we made the mistake of purchasing a one-way transit visa for East Germany to get to Berlin and ended up having to go over to East Berlin to get another one to get back on the train to West Germany.  Since my sister was only 14 at the time, they put her on my visa as my "child".  That caused no end of amusement for the East German train guards who kept coming into our compartment, demanding our papers and asking "Madam, where is your child?" and then having a good laugh about it.  

And then....the Big Stoopid Idea....we decided it would be fun to go to the running of the bulls in Pamplona.  We got off the train in Pamplona and were promptly put right back on the next train by the police.  They claimed, and rightly so, that Pamplona was NOT a good place for young women at that moment, i.e. thousands of drunk and testosterone-charged men roaming the streets.  What were we thinking?  That's right, we _weren't_ thinking. We were teenagers.....we had left our brains at home. 

15 countries......lots of trains.  Lots of fun.


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## hollydolly (Apr 30, 2015)

Sounds Fab jujube


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## Shalimar (Apr 30, 2015)

Sounds exciting, Jujube!


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