Cab ride over the Mississippi

There are things that happen during your lifetime that make you forever remember a place or thing.  In my case I will NEVER forget that Davenport Iowa is right across the Mississippi river from Rock Island Illinois.  Allow me to explain.  I was on my way home from El-Paso to Ft. Wayne in April of 1961.  I was riding coach on the Santa Fe railroad.  I had not been home in some time and was really looking forward to it because Connie and I were to be married on April 22ed.

The conductor came through the car and announced there would be a half hour stop in Rock Island Illinois.  The train stopped and my buddy and I got off to stretch our legs.  I was looking at a magazine in the depot a few minutes later when I saw the train start to move out.  I dropped the magazine and bailed out of the depot and started to run after the train.  My buddy was running after me.  I saw the conductor on the back of the last car and I yelled, “stop you son of a bitch, stop”.  He just watched me as the train pulled away leaving me in the dust.  It was sort of like the old comic strip where Dagwood chases the trolley.

There was a cab driver chasing both of us yelling, “We can catch up with the train”.  I found out that the train had stopped in Davenport Iowa to let ONE passenger off.  My buddy and I paid $5 each to ride in a cab across the Mississippi river from Davenport to catch the train in Rock Island.  Geography lesson learned.  I did not un-ass my seat until we got to Chicago.  I wondered how many times that cab driver had done the same thing for some dumb shit that missed the train.

On that same trip I met a guy that invited me to his compartment.  He wanted to give me an enema. (No shit -- pun intended.)  I declined his offer but that is another story.