Juan Portillo

Good mornin’ America, how are you? Don’t you know me? I’m your native son. I’m the train they call the City of New Orleans I’ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done We closed last night with a bumpy ride. In darkness we whizzed by Memphis, Fulton KY, Carbondale Ill, Champaign-Urbana Ill, and a host of unknown rail fronting towns. Night time on the city of New Orleans Changin’ cars in Memphis, Tennessee Halfway home, we’ll be there by mornin’ I woke up to the clickity-clack and the pleasant rocking motion of our train. The sun, peeking over the mowed fields of wheat, was doing its best to color the sky. Passing lonely farm houses, you have to wonder how people stay in touch. Then you realize why Midwesterners have the reputation of being ... read more

Railroad Lore Every parent can attest that boys have an innate fascination with trains and railroads. At least we certainly did in my generation. I still vividly remember my first train trip. It was 1952 and I was 7 years old. My mother and I rode a steam locomotive pulled train from the border city of Mexicali to Mexico City. At seven I did not feel discomfort, although looking back I cannot imagine sitting in those rather hard seats in non-air-conditioned discomfort for two days. It was a great adventure. I loved every moment, the smells, the noises, the colors and the people. Tomorrow, I look forward to experiencing a travel back in time. To a time when the railroad was the primary mode of transportation in this Nation, “And the sons of Pullman porters & ... read more