RED HAM AND EGGS

I was excited to go on this train trip with my husband. I hadn't been on a train since I was a kid. My dad worked for the Reading Railroad's Port Richmond grain elevator down next to the Delaware River. Since the 'grain' was owned by the Railroad, he would get tickets once a year for me, him, my mom and my little sister, Betty. I was never too fond of those trips because there was nothing to do but sit! But I always did want to eat in the dining car. The thought of eating while riding excited me. My mom told me we just couldn't afford it. I would proceed to cross my arms and pout but never could change the outcome.

I had told my husband that I always wanted to eat in the fancy dining car ever since the one time I ate there with my Dad and Mom. He said sure and thought that sounded like a great idea. We boarded the train late one evening and we were very happy for this 3 day trip. After waking up in the sleeper car, a new experience for me, breakfast rolled around and we proceeded to the dining car. I was so looking forward to this experience.

I felt like that 10 year old again, but this time was different. I could order anything I wanted. My husband had the money. The waiter, in his white uniform, approached our table. He greeted us mannerly and did that familiar action of grabbing the napkins and placing them on our laps. He asked if we were ready to order. I was nervous, but blurted out, "Yes, I'll have the red meat and eggs!!" He looked at me quizzically as did my husband! I quickly said, "Oh, no, I'll just have eggs and toast!" After the waiter left, my husband questioned my response!! He said he thought I was anxious to eat Ham and eggs. The memories from 70 years ago came flooding back....

Back in the '50's whenever we went on a train ride, I loved the hustle and bustle but I hated the long ride, the soot coming in the open window, the noise, the heat, the crowds talking loudly and the smell. My favorite part was when the vendors boarded at certain stops and sold sandwiches and sodas. My dad would buy two sandwiches which we all shared. I was never satisfied with half a sandwich, but, as my mom would say, "We don't have the money!"

Our trips usually went from the 30th street station in downtown Philadelphia to Washington, DC or New York. My mom said that a longer trip with me, her 'mischievous daughter' would send her on a shorter trip to a place called 'Byberry', a local insane asylum. Not knowing what that meant at the time, it now gives me a hint about

my personality back then.

One year, we did take a longer trip than usual--24 hours to Florida. Since, as my mom always stated, '...we are poor!' we could not get a sleeper car. Since this meant sitting up the entire night, my mom made a deal with me. She told me that if I behaved as good as my little sister, Betty, always did that we could eat breakfast in the dining car. I was dumbstruck. I remembered passing through it and seeing the fancy wallpaper, the cushy seats and the waiters wearing white outfits with gloves. The excitement started to build as I dozed off a few times dreaming about the meal to come. I remember annoying my mom every twenty minutes asking if it was time to eat yet! She stopped answering me after the sixth time.

In the morning, as we started towards the moving diner holding on to every seat, so we wouldn't fall, my mom, carefully recited last minute instructions on everything from my burping to my breathing. She said that if I didn't behave like my sister that we could return to our seats without breakfast. I didn't utter a sound as we made our way to the dining car.

As I perched my little butt on the deep purple plush, even the silver coffee pot struck my fancy. It wasn't even a holiday or anything.

As the waiter finally approached us and snatched the napkins from our plates. I thought something was wrong but the friendly gentleman just wanted to place them on our laps. He winked and told my parents what beautiful little girls we were. My mother smiled and rolled her eyes, probably thinking about that trip to 'Byberry'. As the courteous man left to get our coffee and juices, my mother reiterated one of her many, many instructions, "Just order eggs and toast! Absolutely, NO HAM!!"

I whined that I really needed ham with my eggs. It would surely spoil my whole trip. She said, "NO" again, because, as you know we did not have much money!

My, usually gentle, mother actually threatened me with another train trip if I so much as said the word "HAM". I ordered my eggs, gave my parents, 'the look' and decided to ruin their day!

As the waiter placed the platter sized plates in front of us, I picked up a very green sprig from the side of my eggs. I wrinkled my nose and looked at him, quizzically. I told him I didn't like this stuff. He chuckled and stooped down next to my chair. He kindly told me I did not have to eat this thing called 'parsley' if I did not want it.

I will never forget my mother's audible gasp and her usual prayer when I did something wrong--"Mother of God, give me patience!"

As I turned my head to the side, smiled, swung my legs around and said, sweetly, "Then, Sir, can I please exchange it for a piece of that red neat!"

So, after relating this tale to my husband, he called the waiter and ordered a "....gigantic piece of red meat-HAM- to go with my eggs!"