Hello from Amtrak train 655 where absolutely no announcement about any of this has been made to the passengers!https://twitter.com/AmtrakNECAlerts/status/1035665362564591617 …
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So, here's a story. Had everything gone according to plan, we'd have pulled into Harrisburg about a half hour ago. Things did not go according to plan, Michael.
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Shortly before our train pulled into Trenton, Amtrak robocalled me and several of the other people on the train to say that our train, the train we were on, was cancelled. It gave no information. Or answered the obvious question of how you cancel a moving train.
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I figured this was coming, having seen the local tv tweet of an Amtrak train under water between where my train was and where I needed to go.https://twitter.com/WGAL/status/1035661093325156352?s=20 …
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My plan this weekend was to go to my parents house, go to my dad's union picnic at ye olde local amusement park (Knoebels), where my brother and his girlfriend would meet us and also hang.
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So the question of what to do becomes urgent. Do we get off in Philly? Can my brother meet us there? Can my mom drive to Lancaster to meet the train? (No on that last because the road between Harrisburg and Lancaster is apparently washed out.)
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We immediately start pricing hotels in Lancaster, as does everyone else on the five or so inconvenienced Amtrak trains. My mom "asks" my brother if he can collect us from there in the morning.
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Fun fact: hotels in Lancaster are surprisingly affordable! The first "industrial rehab" one was all booked, but nice about it. Struck gold with hotel 2, a 20-minute walk from the train station. Phew. Breathe a sigh of relief.
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Call brother, set up rendezvous plans, be a little glad I had options that weren't "crash on uncle's couch." See my mom is from here. I have vague memories of coming here until my teens.
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Walking down Queen Street all I'm thinking is "wow wait this town is surprisingly great! Not my childhood memories at all." But what is, really.
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We check in, the night is still young, and it turns out this town lives a good brew pub. So I call my mom to chat a bit, plot tomorrow.", then walk outside to find a beer.
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And that, twitter, is how I came to leave New York and get detoured to a big old hotel where my mom once sheltered during an air raid alert, half a block away from the tiny shop where my grandpa sat hunched over a bench for decades repairing watches.pic.twitter.com/MpYE2OqaHn
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THERE'S A CODA: my twitter ranting caught the eye of
@apbusch, who I had not seen in YEARS. He'd driven in from Cleveland to ride roller coasters at Knoebels yesterday. So thanks to Amtrak being dumb, and my inability to not complain, I got to play mini golf with an old friend.Show this thread
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