erin mccann |Verified account

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.

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 …

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.

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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.