NY: St. Martin, 1993.
Folks of my generation, those born during World War II, are just about the last to have any memories of railroad passenger travel before AmTrak took over the lines and traveling any distance by train became like traveling by Greyhound bus — only less comfortable. My grandfather was a lifelong railroad man, the third generation of them on both sides in that family. Though he began as a mechanic, he eventually became a manager for the Pennsylvania, and that meant he possessed a railroad pass good anywhere in the country.
