The Journal, Part 1
“ALL ABOARD!! … ALL ABOARD!!” … The conductor at New York City’s Pennsylvania Station can really bellow it out when he wants to get his train loaded and ready to go. His train is the Broadway Limited, bound for Chicago and it is April 21, 1941. About thirty of the passengers aren’t yet on board. “As long as they are moving towards an open door,” the conductor says to himself, “I won’t be too hard on them.” And all these not-yet-embarked passengers are moving in the right direction on the platform. Nobody is slacking off.
A dark-haired man in his early thirties is just boarding the fourth Pullman car. He is nice looking, with a dimple in his chin, well built and tan. He is wearing a dark blue civilian suit, because he doesn’t want to advertise that he is a naval officer. He was just relieved yesterday as the Executive Officer of USS GOFF (DD-247), a destroyer, one of the old four-stackers built shortly after the Great War. His name is Benjamin Ghetzler, Lieutenant, United States Navy, and he is on leave, on his way to visit his parents, brothers, and sisters in San Antonio, Texas. He already has his orders to another destroyer which he’ll report to after his visit to San Antonio. He is carrying just one suitcase. Destroyer sailors learn to ‘travel light’ early in their careers, and he has been at it for over sixteen years now, including prior enlisted service.
The Broadway Limited, like many other trains serving New York City, is pulled by an electric locomotive because of the tunnel they have to traverse when passing under the Hudson River. On a westbound run, when the Broadway Limited reaches Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, the electric locomotive will be swapped out for a diesel-powered one. LT Ghetzler notices that the air in the Pennsylvania Station Concourse is much cleaner than it is in some of the other stations he has frequently used over the course of his naval career, a benefit of the electric locomotive. He settles into his seat in his roomette at 5:50 PM, ten minutes before the train is scheduled to depart for Chicago. The Broadway Limited always leaves on time.
At 5:59 on Ben’s watch, the train starts inching forward smoothly. Its speed creeps up gradually as they leave the station and enter the tunnel to cross beneath the river. The train continues to build its speed over the next three minutes. It is now up to 60 miles per hour. Later when they reach more open territory, they will hit speeds around 90 miles per hour.
The relaxing ti-ti-to, ti-ti-to, ti-ti-to, ti-ti-to as the wheels hit the junctions of the rails, is accompanied by the gentle rocking of the train from side to side. It is easy to sit and stare out the window watching the countryside pass by, and minutes can easily turn to hours.
There are telephone wires suspended between poles which run parallel to the tracks. Watching the curvature of the wires from a moving train is hypnotic. The wires start out high on a pole, then sag gently to the low point halfway between two poles, and then rise again to meet the top of the next pole. This up and down motion goes very quickly, of course, as fast as the train happens to be moving.
Ben watches the rise and fall of the telephone wires for a while, and listens to the mesmerizing ti-ti-to, ti-ti-to, ti-ti-to, ti-ti-to. But he decides he doesn’t want to waste too much time relaxing this trip, because he has finally convinced himself of the value of recording his past adventures for those who follow him later in proceeding down the path of life.
He pulls out a brand new tan leather journal from his suitcase, and takes his two-year old 1939 Parker Vacumatic Maxima fountain pen from his shirt pocket. He takes his bottle of Parker Quink blue-black ink from his suitcase and fills his pen. He gets up from the seat in his roomette and goes two cars forward to the club car, where he finds an empty seat at a writing desk.
His mind drifts back to his earlier days in hot and dusty San Antonio, and as he puts his pen to the paper, he feels he is being transported backward in time. The sights and sounds of the train fade into the background as he focuses on his past. His Vacumatic glides smoothly over the pages, and his journal starts to take shape.