On Throwing Snowballs

There’s a streetlamp on the corner across from my house. It’s located approximately 35 yards from my front door. The post is about six inches in diameter. Every winter, whenever I walk outside, I attempt to hit the post with snowballs thrown from the top of my driveway. Generally, during an entire winter, I hit it maybe three times.

A few days ago, when going out to get the mail, I threw four snowballs at the post and hit it four times. I was so amazed that I immediately went inside and bragged about it to my wife.

It reminded me of the most amazing snowball throw I’ve ever made. I was in high school, and one evening I was in our church parking lot chatting with friends. I saw my youth pastor driving out the far side of the lot. He stopped and rolled down his window to talk with someone. After a minute or so, he started moving again, but he still had his window open. As he pulled onto the street, I made a snowball and waited. As he accelerated down the street, about 50 yards from where I stood, I let go.

Let me tell you, it was a thing of beauty — the swiftly-accelerating car and the arcing snowball lit up by the parking lot lights as it traced a path across the dark sky. As the two objects got closer to their destined meeting place, I started to giggle. It was unfolding as though in slow motion, and I could see that the impossible was about to happen.

That snowball passed dead center through the open window of the moving car and landed smack in my youth pastor’s lap. It was, indeed, one of the proudest moments of my life.

Posted in Stories | Comments Off on On Throwing Snowballs

On Headlights

We were on our way to the theater last night to see The Blind Side. We were only a few blocks from home when I realized it was getting dark and my headlights should be on. There was a car approaching from the opposite direction, so I waited until it was right next to me and then switched on my lights.

I chuckled at myself and then told my wife, “I’ve always had this strange determination to never let other drivers see me turn my lights on. I always wait until I get to a place where it’s unlikely anyone will see them go on.”

I fully expected my wife to tell my how weird I am, but instead she said, “I do that too.”

Which now has me wondering. Is this a strange quirk that we just happen to have in common, or this this a wide-spread feeling that a lot of people share?

Posted in Stories | 5 Comments

Southwest Chief — Illinois (part two)

As we rolled through Sandwich, the trip lost much of its appeal. There was nothing novel about Chicagoland. That didn’t keep me from taking tons of photos, however. We soon came to Aurora.

We passed Walter Payton’s Roundhouse, where I’ve eaten and toured the museum.

We stopped in Naperville, then crossed over the tollway.

We went by the Riveside Water Tower and then entered Chicago.

This is probably my favorite photo from the train. I would have been happy with this one if I’d taken it while standing on the bridge.

The train went around a bend and I got my first view of the Chicago skyline.

I was taking a second shot just as a Metra train went by heading in the other direction, just inches away. Here’s the resulting photo.

Our final turn into Union Station.

We arrived a half hour early. I was the last person to leave the lounge car. The train was a long one — two engines, a crew car (I think), two sleepers, the dining car, the lounge car, two coach cars and a baggage car. It was a long walk to get to the station itself.

Looking back at my train.

On the last leg of the journey, from Aurora in, I felt like I was riding Metra. So you can imagine how excited I was to walk three blocks to the Ogilvie Transportation Center and catch another train out. I had to wait for about 20 minutes to board, and then another 20 minutes before the train began the hour and 15 minute trip home. I pulled out a book I’d carried all the way to Kansas City and back just for this purpose and read the whole way. I walked from the station and got home around 5:15 pm, ending a journey that began at 6:15 am in Overland Park, Kansas.

Posted in Illinois | Comments Off on Southwest Chief — Illinois (part two)

Southwest Chief — Illinois (part one)

I’m not sure why I had to make reservations for the dining car.

There were only eight people eating at 11:30, so most of the tables were empty. I’m also not sure why they didn’t give me my own table. I was seated with a retired woman who lives in the mountains of Colorado. She caught the train in Lamar and was getting off in Galesburg to catch a shuttle to Springfield to catch another Amtrak train to Poplar Bluff where a friend was picking her up to drive to Florida for a week. We had a nice conversation as we rode along, but Galesburg was coming up quickly, so she had to eat fast.

I ordered a cheeseburger, but passed up the $2.00 bacon. The burger, a few chips and a bottled water cost me $11.00 with tip (no tax).

It was not an exciting meal. I was in the dining car for perhaps 20 minutes, then resumed my seat in the lounge car for the rest of the journey. I can now say that I’ve eaten in the dining car on a train. I can also say that it’s unlikely that I will ever do so again.

The scenery in Illinois looked much like … Illinois.

We stopped in Galesburg, then rode through more farmland and through several small towns.

There were a few scenic areas scattered here and there.

We stopped in Princeton and Mendota (where they desperately need to repaint the water tower).

Mendota was definitely the weather high point of the day. As we traveled further east, the sky got decidedly gray and so did everything else. I took this picture somewhere west of Aurora. This is exactly how it came out of my camera (except for a bit of cropping).

I went downstairs to the cafe one last time, for a $2.50 Snickers Bar, then settled in for the final stretch.

To be continued …

Posted in Illinois | 1 Comment

Southwest Chief — Iowa

At about 11:00, we crossed the Des Moines River into Iowa.

We cut across the little bit of southeast Iowa that dips down between Missouri and Illinois, so we weren’t in the state very long.

We soon arrived at our next stop — Fort Madison, on the Mississippi River.

I wandered about the car for a bit taking photos because the river was on the other side of the train. Fort Madison is home of the last remaining swing-span bridge on the Mississippi. The highway crosses on the upper level and the train crosses down below.

When I returned to my seat, the young woman in the next chair was on the phone to her grandmother. She was talking fairly loudly and sitting only three feet away, so I couldn’t help overhearing much of the conversation. I first took notice when she said she was on her way back to Wheaton. Then she said that she’d had a good weekend at home because she’d seen her sisters concert and gone to church. I wasn’t going to say anything, but when she got off the phone she turned to me and asked if I knew whether the train was on schedule. I told her I’d heard we were actually ahead of schedule, then I asked her where she went to school. She said Wheaton College.

She grew up in Wisconsin but now lives in Kansas City. She’s a junior, training to be a teacher, but wants to go to India or South Korea for a few years after she graduates to teach conversational English. We only talked for about 15 minutes because, as we crossed into Illinois, I was called to lunch.

To be continued …

Posted in Iowa | Comments Off on Southwest Chief — Iowa