Chicago Deep Freeze

Reuters/Lyndsay Dedario

My train trip through the heart of the country on the California Zephyr had gone on for eight days without a hitch. I made it from Chicago to San Francisco in three days and two nights and spent a night in a hotel there. On the trip eastward, I stopped in Grand Junction to spend the weekend with my friend, Bobbie, and her husband, Martin. On Monday I had only two more days of travel before I reached Chicago where I planned to stay for two days and then take the train to Kalamazoo. However, I would have to change my plans because the Polar Vortex was descending upon the Great Lakes region.

The ride from Grand Junction was beautiful and sunny over the mountains of Colorado and then over the flat, snowy landscape of the Midwest. It was hard to believe news that a "Polar Vortex" was bringing temperatures of -20 degrees and more—before figuring in the wind chill. 

As the train chugged through Iowa, and Illinois, the air around us was so cold that ice had formed under the train’s engine. We were barely an hour away from Chicago when we had to stop to loosen the ice and repair the damages to the equipment. We would be delayed for two hours. Oh, to be so close and yet so far! Then a freight train in front of us hit a car that had skidded on the ice at a crossing. First responders were out immediately tending to the crash, but there was no word on the victim. 

We were four hours behind schedule on a nice, warm train, but that didn't compare to how bad it was for those working outside in the cold. Work crews near Chicago were even laying cable on the tracks and setting fires to them to keep the tracks from splitting as trains ran over them (see video below). This was an apocalyptic scene if there ever were one.

I had to make a new plan for my stay in Chicago. I decided to stay only one night at the Palmer House and leave the city the next day on the 1:45 train bound for Kalamazoo. I prepared a light-weight overnight bag and left my suitcase at the 24-hour baggage drop-off where I would pick it up the next day.

Once I left the station the reality of the extreme weather hit me hard. The temperatures were freezing and the wind was merciless. I had to navigate myself over familiar streets, watch out for danger, and keep myself warm. I left the station and walked over the Chicago River bridge at Jackson Avenue. As I walked down the street, I came upon Derrick, the train attendant of my sleeper car. I asked if I could walk with him, and he agreed--sort of. He had long legs and a light Amtrak jacket and was trying to reach the El on State Street before he froze to death. I was literally trotting alongside him. When we branched off from each other I began to ask other people for directions to the hotel to avoid making a mistake and having to stay out in the cold even longer. I arrived at the hotel safely and was quite pleased to be in my beautiful, warm, and spacious room on the 13th floor. It must have measured 500 square feet!

Although I had planned to have dinner at the Star of Siam Restaurant, there was no way I would go back outside in the cold. I ate at a bar in the hotel, which meant another hamburger and fries meal. It was good, but I am quite satiated with burgers to last me at least a year in France! 

I returned to my room and decided to watch the film, First Man. I love biographies and space movies and didn't want to miss this one. It turned out to be another travel adventure story, one that fit the theme of my train trip. Neil Armstrong was a crack pilot and engineer, but he suffered the loss of his young daughter. He also encountered several mishaps in his work as an astronaut. The film focuses on the struggles of a super-star as it shows his humanity. It also shows how difficult--and dangerous--it was for NASA to go to the moon, something we take for granted because we aren't privy to all of the failures it took to succeed.

After the film, I crawled into my comfy double bed with three pillows and nodded off to sleep. I woke up at 5 a.m. My train didn't leave until 1:45 and I was allowed to stay in the hotel until 11:30. I decided to get some coffee and leisurely sit in my room and write. Good plan but it was not to be. The news reported that all Amtrak trains had been cancelled for Wednesday and Thursday due to the extreme cold! Amtrak would re-open for service on Friday when temperatures rose to 20 degrees. After a quick breakfast at the Corner Bakery, which seemed not to have any heat inside, I began to strategize my next move. 

Sr. Carol Crepeau of La Grange had invited me to visit her whenever I was in town. This was it! We talked on the phone and she suggested I take the Metra Line to La Grange (a Chicago suburb) and she would pick me up at the station house. 

 

I put on my winter wear and wrapped up myself covering everything except my eyes. The walk to Union Station was blistering cold. It was also surreal. There were hardly any cars on the downtown streets of Chicago. In fact, I crossed streets against the lights several times to keep moving. After 15 minutes of this, my hands were curled up and frozen. I kept my mouth and nose covered to avoid breathing in the cold air. Finally, a couple blocks from the station I spotted a building that was open. I needed to warm up a bit before I continued my walk. One of the security guards inside was very friendly. "You can stay here as long as you like to warm up," he said. "This is an extraordinary day."

I finally reached Union Station and found it to be empty except for a few workers who were able to make it there. The Great Hall was more like the Great Hollow; there was absolutely no one there.

Fortunately, the Metra Line trains were running, albeit in a limited way. I bought my ticket and headed for the Metropolitan Lounge. Esther was especially nice to me there. She retrieved my suitcase in the baggage drop-off and allowed me to stay in the Lounge while I waited the next 45 minutes for my train. It was then and there that I decided I wanted to write a story about the California Zephyr and praise Amtrak for its efforts in helping people during this "once in a generation event" called the "Polar Vortex."

Snuggled on the Metra Line

This was my first ride on the Metra Line, and I was glad to discover it. The ticket office is near the Great Hall and the Metro Lounge, and it connects to the Amtrak trains as well as the airport. There were hardly any people on the train. One of the conductors said that he had worked for the Metra Line for 14 years and "this was the worst day of his career." There was very little heat in the train, and the doors between cars remained ajar causing the cold to creep in.

I was very concerned about missing my stop so I kept asking the conductor questions about where it was, if the station house was open, etc. "I can't afford to make a mistake," I told him. He was polite and patient but probably glad to drop me off at the La Grange/Stone stop. He helped me with my bag, and pointed out where I could cross the tracks to get to the station house. 

Train people are extraordinary public servants. They meet all classes of people and offer them the service they need with respect and care. I found this same attitude among the bus drivers of Kalamazoo as well. We owe them our praise and thanks for the job they do--in all kinds of weather.

The Stone Avenue Train Station was empty but heated and a good place to be while I waited for Carol to pick me up. It was built in 1901 in an architectural style that "typifies the vigorous spirit of the nation entering the 20th century," said a plaque on the wall. It also "expresses civic pride that flourished in La Grange when the young village was becoming what founders envisioned--a community of fine homes, good schools, and a pleasant place to live and raise a family." 

The station was listed in a catalog of America's "Historic Railroad Stations" in 1974 and in 1976 it was designated as a local city landmark. By 2000, however, it had fallen into disrepair until the village of La Grange preserved it in 2013 "as an irreplaceable community asset." Volunteers worked on its interior and exterior, and the project received $1.1 million in grants from the Federal Mass Transit Administration and the West Suburban Mass Transit District. In 2016, Landmarks Illinois presented the Village a Driehaus Foundation Preservation Award for the station's restoration.

Carol arrived, and she took me to the Honey Bee Restaurant, a Greek family restaurant, one of her favorites. Then, we went to her home, which was the rectory of a nearby Episcopalian church. She made a dinner of pasta, which I greatly appreciated. It had been days since I'd had any pasta, my comfort food. After dinner, we did the dishes, jumped into our pajamas, and settled down for TV news followed by Rachel Maddow at 8 p.m. Then we went to bed exhausted by the weather and the stress of managing our way through it.

We started out Thursday morning with breakfast and TV news. Carol needed to go to her office at La Grange Center, so I went with her. This was my first chance to see the Center and more importantly, to meet some of the people there. 

Carol is a new friend I made through the International Centre when she brought a group of pilgrims there in fall 2017. This is one of the perks of working at the Centre: people from all over the world come here! It is a special privilege, and it has expanded my horizons to see a much bigger picture of the Sisters of St. Joseph beyond my experience with the sisters at Nazareth. It has been especially gratifying to meet sisters and associates from my own community, the Congregation of St. Joseph and allows me feel more united with them.

The first person I met at the La Grange Center was Nancy, the IT coordinator. She not only helped me with my cell phone, she showed me the two servers the Center uses. I had been wondering what servers looked like since the 2016 election when they became a divisive factor for Hillary Clinton's e-mails. They are 18"x24"x6" metal boxes that sit on a shelf and "work" the tons of data that flow through them.


I also met up with Sr. Peggy Wessel from Nazareth who I hadn't seen in many years. She was one of the novices who helped coordinate the "Come and See" for my entrance class 45 years ago. She was an elementary teacher and a special education teacher. She currently lives at the La Grange Center where she has been battling cancer for the past two years. She lost her hair twice, but it has grown back to a beautiful, curly, salt and pepper color. She calls it her "chemo hair." 

Peggy is working through her cancer in a faith-filled way with a couple other sisters who are dealing with their cancers. She’s always been a spirit-filled, soft-spoken, and gentle woman. These qualities seem to be surely helping her now. I'm so glad we had this time together!

Peggy, Sallie, and Carol

At noon, Peggy, Carol, and I had a lunch of swiss steak, shrimp and rice, salad, cottage cheese, pickled beets, and mixed vegetables. Delicious! 

Carol introduced me to the sisters in the dining room. Many of them knew me through my blogs, which was truly gratifying. Writers like to be read, for sure! Mary Southard, the artist, Kathy Sherman, the musician and songwriter were also there. Kathy later gave me a couple of her CDs, which I promised to bring to the International Centre for all our guests to enjoy. Sallie Latkovich, who last year was elected to the new CSJ Leadership Team, sat at our table and talked a bit. I was glad to meet her, too! 

Before we left the La Grange Center, Carol took me to the chapel, which I liked very much. It has a spiritual power in its design and an obvious energy that makes it a holy place.

Actually, it was  serendipitous luck that I was marooned in Chicago. I had an opportunity to meet sisters at the La Grange Center and see a place I only knew in name. Someday, I hope to visit the other five Congregational  centers!




















The Pedicure

 
Carol is a fun person to be with. She likes to do things. She asked me if I'd ever had a pedicure. Never. However, I couldn't pass up a new experience, so we went. Carol’s treatment took longer, so my attendant put the massage chair to work. I loved it! In typical fashion, however, I fell asleep in the chair. 

During another part of the treatment, the male pedicurist wrapped my legs in hot towels. Then the woman attendant checked over his work, corrected any missed spots, and massaged my feet a bit more. Ahhhhhh!

Jackie

After the pedicure, we returned to the house. Jackie was already there and waiting for Carol to help her pick up a car from the shop and return the other. During that time I made dinner: stew like my mother used to make--and they liked it. 

I first met Jackie in New Orleans in 2012 and stayed a couple days at her apartment. She gave me a wonderful tour of the various ministries to the poor going on there, which was inspiring to see. We went to the old slave church, which is today a vibrant community parish. She also took me to the site where the Medaille community located their motherhouse--until Hurricane Katrina flooded it and a fire later gutted it. The building was demolished and the land is now being put to good environmental use. 

 Jackie also introduced me to Alison McCrary, a Catholic Sister, social justice lawyer, mediator, and spiritual advisor on Death Row. Alison spent time talking with me about her ministry. She also invited me to attend Mass at St. Augustine Catholic Church, where she is a parishioner and leader. The church was founded in 1841. Established by free people of color who also bought pews for slaves, it is the oldest African-American Catholic parish in the nation. Hurricane Katrina caused much damage to the church and a decline in its population forced the diocese to close it. To save the church, parishioners barricaded themselves in the rectory for two weeks in protest. They won, and the parish is still open! If I ever realize my dream of living in New Orleans, this church will be my parish.

Finally, we had dinner with Sr. Helen Prejan, the "Dead Man Walking Nun." Helen lived in the apartment next to Jackie, and they frequently met for meals and socializing. We all had a great talk that night as Helen told some of her best interesting stories. It's a rare occasion to see the humanness in someone who is an international star! 

I remain most appreciative of Jackie for hosting me in New Orleans!


Heading for Home
On Friday, the Amtrak trains resumed service. Carol took me to the station house where I bought a Metra Line ticket. While I waited for the train, I had another serendipitous encounter with Sr. Marlene and her colleague, Kate. They are parish ministers at St. Francis Xavier Parish and are attending a one-day conference on immigration in Chicago. Marlene said she recognized me from my blog. I have certainly become a minor CSJ celebrity through the blog and my work at the International Centre.

Kate and Sr. Marlene

I headed for Union Station in Chicago, and made my way to Kalamazoo where I would stayed overnight at Nazareth before returning to Detroit to my sister's house to spend the last few days before I left for France. 

This experience in Chicago illustrates the beauty and value of travel where you never know who you will meet or what you will do. You are, in truth, in God's hands as you encounter new worlds and meet new people. Making connections with sisters on this unplanned Chicago leg of my train trip has certainly yielded much fruit in getting to know my congregation better, too. 

Government Shut Down

During my train trip, I talked with people about the effects of the 36-day government shutdown that began on December 21. The national parks, for example, remained open but without their usual staffing. This resulted in a scandalous array of brimming trashcans, overflowing toilets, and trespassing on the nation's public lands. As a rule, the parks are highly regulated in order to protect their beauty and the patrons who visit them. However, some 16,000 parks service employees were furloughed and only a small number of them were available for policing and security, according to the National Parks Conservation Association (NPCA). The above notice appeared at the entrance gate of the Colorado National Monument where Bobbie, Martin, and I visited in Grand Junction.




The Trump administration did not close the national parks because it wanted to avoid the same kind of criticism doled out to the Obama administration during the 2013  government shutdown, namely, that businesses near the parks would suffer. As a result, former Department of Interior Secretary Ryan Zinke issued a policy document in January 2018 that the parks should continue to operate during any “lapse in appropriations,” such as a funding hold seen during shutdowns. Unfortunately, the influx of tourists was too much for the park staff that did show up, and much damage was done, some of it deliberate. 

The worst instance of this damage was Joshua Tree National Park in southern California, where "irreparable" damage was done including vandalism, ruined trails and trees cut down, said former superintendent Curt Sauer. He retired in 2010 after running the park for seven years.

“What’s happened to our park in the last 34 days is irreparable for the next 200 to 300 years,” he said, according to a report from the Desert Sun.

The Colorado National Monument in Grand Junction did not suffer the same fate. Like many volunteers at other parks, the people of the Grand Junction cleaned up the trash. Public toilets had also been locked.

In another instance, Bobbie and I were seated  with a mother and her three-year-old daughter. The mother was a federal employee for Health and Human Services and working without being payed. Her job entailed buying health insurance for Native American tribes. She said she was handling some difficult cases where people had life threatening diseases. If they didn’t get the health care the agency provided for them, they would die. In fact, her bosses had managed to juggle their funding so that the people continued to receive care. However, she said this care would only last two more weeks before the emergency funding would run out.

“I wouldn’t want to be in the shoes of those above me,” she said. “They have been scrambling to keep the programs going.”

The woman also said that she and her fellow employees in critical care situations would be given a partial payment of their salaries on Friday. (As it turns out, the shutdown ended on Friday night.)

The woman had apparently saved some money to take care of her family’s needs even though her husband, also a federal employee for the Defense Department, was not getting paid either. Her daughter’s day care costs $200 per week. The woman seemed pretty calm about her situation and admitted to being a resourceful person who was strong enough to get through anything. Even so, the shutdown posed a particular challenge for her. 

She had taken the train because she couldn’t afford to fly. She was going to her brother's funeral to Green River, CO, where she would leave her daughter with her mother.

The woman revealed that she was a Native American with a doctorate in psychology and married to a white man. She said she knew Nathan Phillips, the Native American Marine Corps veteran who had made the news earlier that week when he and his fellow demonstrators were harassed by white teenagers from a boys' Catholic school in Covington, Kentucky. She was incensed with the treatment he received.

On my flight back to France, I asked a TSA inspector is she thought there were be another shut down on February 15 (which meant that she would have to work without pay again).

"I don't think so," she said. "The last one didn't work out very well. I don't think they'll try that again."

Amtrak employees were not affected by the shut down because Amtrak is a privately-run company that receives government subsidies.

Meet You at the Junction -- Grand Junction, Colorado

  

In 1983, Bobbie and I took a two-week camping trip out West as far as Yellowstone National Park. When we were in Wyoming, we saw two gray-haired women riding together in a car. We said that someday, that would be us. That day has arrived only we took the train! 

I had already planned on my way eastward to spend the weekend in Grand Junction where Bobbie lives. Instead, she decided to board the westbound train and come with me to San Francisco. Then we would ride eastward back to Grand Junction together. We made these connections via cell phone technology, which I have to admit is amazing!!

The train arrived in Grand Junction on Tuesday, January 22 about 7 p.m., just in time for dinner. Bobbie boarded the train, and we spent the next four hours talking.

The next morning, the diner server, Gerard, seated Bobbie and me together for breakfast without any of the other passengers. There weren’t that many people on the train, so he had the space. He figured we'd want to catch up with each other and he did us this favor. Reesy, the other server, took our photo together with her cell phone and sent it to me so that I could post it on FaceBook. (I am constantly amazed at the good service Amtrak employees provide.)

We rode the train together through Utah, Nevada, and the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California before we reached Emeryville, a small city outside of San Francisco that serves as the end of the line for the California Zephyr. 

While we waited for the hotel shuttle, I saw a lot of Uber pick-ups and drop-offs at the curb. This is the new reality in America (and all over the world). Taxis are out and Uber and Lyft are in. The taxis fought these two Internet-connected companies in a law suit, but lost. Now travelers with a cell phone can easily call for a ride--and it will be there in about 10 minutes. There is no exchange of money because it is all done online by credit card. This is a marvelous and convenient system of travel! (I tried it in Kalamazoo and was exceedingly pleased.)

After we arrived in our room at the Hilton Gardens, which is almost on the Bay, we took a look out the window and we could see the Oakland shipyard with its large, giraffe-like cranes, the Golden Gate Bridge with bumper-to-bumper headlights of cars, and downtown San Francisco. It was still light, but it looked as though we were about to have a glorious sunset, so we immediately left our room for a short walk along the shore to see it. We found a small park with the water at a muddy low tide. The air was fresh with just a little hint of a seaside smell. The expanse of the city on the Bay was magnificent. We had finally reached the western coastline of our country and "dipped our toe" in the water of its furthest point. It felt good to be there, to stretch our legs, and to share this time together as friends for over 45 years.

After a few photos of the sunset, we crossed the four-lane, palm-tree-lined street in search of a restaurant. All that we could find, however, was a Shell gas station and Chevy’s Mexican Restaurant. If we had walked a bit further, we would have seen a few more places, but I’m glad we ended up at Chevy’s.

Bobbie treated me to a mango marguerita (she had a peach one), and we ordered salads for dinner since we were still full from lunch on the train. There were about three groups who were celebrating birthday parties for their young children. Four staff members gathered round each table and sang happy birthday as they beat on their tambourines. It appeared that the adults had more fun than the kids.

What struck me the most about this restaurant was the diversity of people there—both servers and customers: race, ethnicity, and age. To me, especially in this Trumpian era where racism, white male supremacy, and general close-mindedness have reared their ugly heads, we witnessed an example of what America really is all about. People were happy, respectful, and enjoying the food, fun, and each other. I recalled Rodney King’s question: “Can we all get along”? The short answer is yes, we can, and dinner at Chevy's proves it.

On Thursday morning we were up before 6:30. We decided not to pay for a $17 breakfast at the hotel so Bobbie went to the Shell gas station and bought me a croissant and herself a tart. We had coffee with the Keurig in our room. It was a sufficient repast until we boarded our 9:10 a.m. train departure. 

While we were at the train station, Bobbie exchanged her coach tickets to join me in my roomette. This meant she was also able to get free meals. I didn’t know this could be done; the train staff alerted us to it. Bobbie could be more comfortable with me. Here she is at night in the upper bunk of the roomette. I took the lower bunk.

Bobbie is a bit of an extrovert, and she makes friends quickly. The train has two public spaces where passengers can meet passengers: the Dining Car and the Observation Car. On our trip eastward, Bobbie met a family in the Observation Car that was traveling to Colorado for a birthday celebration. I happened to walk through the car to go to the snack bar and discovered what looked like a big party where people were talking and joking with each other. The family had invited her into their conversation. 

Here are a couple friends Bobbie made in the Observation Car: Kelsey and Carol. She arranged for them to meet us for breakfast.

 





Such interaction is the kind of fun passengers on a long-haul train can have. You meet the most interesting people this way. However, the Diner Car and the Observation Car are now under serious consideration by Amtrak administrators for elimination in order to cut costs. That would truly be a tragedy!

We arrived in Grand Junction at 10:30, just 20 minutes late from our schedule. Martin, Bobbie's husband, picked us up at the train station.

At the Junction
Bobbie and Martin are all about enjoying Nature in its many forms. The couple regularly camps, hikes, and skiies. Although Bobbie used to use a tent in her younger years, she and Martin now have a camper that they pull with a pick-up truck. It has all the comforts of home and allows them to go anywhere anytime, especially now that they are both retired. 

After lunch, we went for a drive to the Colorado National Monument, which is in Bobbie and Martin's "backyard." It was a clear, sunny day and the park hardly had any people in it. The rocks were majestic. Here are some photos of the canyon at the end of the Serpent Trail.

Living in the mountains was the reason Bobbie and Martin moved to Grand Junction. They have easy access to the beauty of the West. Now that they are both retired, they have more time to go on these nature trips. For example, after a planned week's vacation at Glacial National Park in Montana, they spontaneously decided to go to the Washington and Oregon coast for three more weeks. Such is the good life!


Friday night was pizza night. Martin made a delicious pesto pizza and Bobbie made the salad. We ate well. Martin is the couple's chief cook, and he does an excellent job.

Bobbie and Martin have two dogs: Kali and Rosie. They go camping, too.

Kali

Rosie

Saturday Night Crane Watching


Bobbie and Martin had heard that the Sandhill Cranes like to stop off in the cornfields near their home. So we went out to see them--and found them--hundreds of them. They are elegant birds who honk while in flight. Here are some photos of them.

 
Sandhill cranes are fairly social birds that usually live in pairs or family groups throughout the year. During migration and winter, unrelated cranes come together to form "survival groups" that forage and roost together. Such groups often congregate at migration and winter sites, sometimes in the thousands. 












The cranes' flight patterns were equally fascinating. We had hoped to see their mating dance, however, it was not yet the season for it. 

Before this trip I didn't think of myself as having long-term friendships, that is, I am not in contact with my school mates from elementary or high school. On the other hand, seeing friends like Bobbie helped orient me to a new reality. We first met as aspirants to the Nazareth Sisters of St. Joseph in 1974 and have maintained our friendship over the years.  It was very good to see her again and to share the train ride together!