The (Night) Train
It was after midnight and I was about 4 or 5 years old. The memory is not crisp but what I do remember is that the train was ominous to me. It was dark out; the train was huge, shiny, noisy and steam frothing up from the front. We stepped into a sleeper car with bunk beds and the train pulled out. I could not conceive of spending the night on a train, but there I was with my father on the way to meet his brother, my Uncle David. I was so excited about the lights as we passed or pulled into stations, I forgot about sleep. I did not want to exit that train until I saw my uncle outside waiting for us. From then on every train station signals something freeing to me – travel that uniquely marks time and place.