PLUGGED IN AND RIDING THE RAILS,
ABOARD THE ACELA EXPRESS OF AMTRAK
TO A SOUTH STATION BOSTON RENDEZVOUS WITH ALDEN HARKEN,
AND A FORWARD ONGOING TRIP TO NEW HAMPSHIRE
WHERE LAURIE AND TABBIE SHOULD JOIN US TOMORROW,
IF PLANES RETURN TO FLYING.
Sep. 13, 2001
PLANES AND BOATS AND TRAINS
AND NONE OF THEM ANSWERING THEIR PHONES-
AFTER ALL, THEY, TOO, ARE IN A STATE OF SHOCK,
SINCE THEY WERE THE DEVICES USED AS WEAPONS
I had called last night and tried to find out about Metroliner's schedule and availability, but it was on an endless busy signal, like the airlines. When I once did get an automated menu by which I could enter a reservation on a cre3dit card, I learned there was an Acela Express Metroliner to Boston at 3:00 PM. This would be two hours after I should have taken off on the ticket I bought yesterday by going to the U/A downtown ticket office, and taking a number, standing in line for an afternoon. They were very understanding, and told me frankly that they were not answering their own phones so that they did not expect that to be a hopeful thing to do to call the DCA U/A desk-first because no one was there, and if they were, they would not be answering their phones either. We tested that by calling their baggage department and go an endless ringing until it hung up.
THE PROBLEM OF BAGGAGE IN TWO AIRPORTS,
NEITHER OF THEM FLYING,
AND I RESERVED IN A THIRD-ALSO NOT FLYING-
AND MY ON-THE-GROUND SOLUTION TO THESE PROBLEMS
United Airlines has my three checked bags in DCA, which is closed. When U/A flies to Boston, it does so from IAD as its Washington airport for such destinations, and has only limited services out of DCA. So, without promising me anything at all, saying they would be happy to sell me a ticket, but they did not have airspace given them by the FAA, I could try to book out of Dulles, but they did not know what to do about the bags in DCA except to keep trying until I got an answer by calling continuously. So, I did buy the ticket for an airport that was closed at that time and remained closed through the time of my flight.
One good thing did happen, however, when they found out that I was a Premier member. They gave me a special number for the claim on baggage that was missing. I walked out of their office into a strange world in DC. I cut up to Pennsylvania Avenue amid a thick crows of Hummers, assault vehicles, horse vans from Park Police, and dozens of Emergency Vehicles and scores of National Guardsmen patrolling in the odd combination of camo BDU's and fatigues with blaze orange vests over them. This is again a model that makes people say it is like war-no it is not: it is war. I had made my first trip into a medical mission Santo Domingo Dominican Republic under the rule of MP's with heavy automatic weapons everywhere, and I do not believe I have ever left that behind, since I certainly have experienced the same backdrop in the Nigerian civil war, South Africa under siege, the Kenya uprising against Daniel Arap Moi, and the long Civil War in Mozambique not to mention the dozen South American nations such as Chile that had their own share of bullet marking and Central American smaller nations such as El Salvador. But, this was Pennsylvania Avenue-the newest "police state." The heavy duty armored vehicles were six or seven to the block around GWU-perhaps getting an early deployment for two weeks from now when the IMF meetings take place and the police recommendation that GWU close its campus will be enacted for the second time in the month because of civil unrest. That places GWU in such fine company as the universities in Congo, Mozambique and Latin America for "time off work" for political disturbance.
I walked to Keith Carr's office, which, like all the Pennsylvania Avenue offices, was "secured." You needed a special pass and a photo ID with sign in and then were keyed in at the elevator by someone who had to know you and escort you in. We talked about all the financial firms up and down the towers of the WTC-some of which large firms simply are no more. I learned from him the contents of the WTC complex and its net worth and insurance claim-soon to be the largest ever made in history-but scattered over several largely European re-insurance firms. I told him the story of my bags in one place and I having to be in several others, and he dialed that special bag claim number and it was answered! The woman on the phone said she would take my numbers and the claim tags after she had first told me repeatedly to call tomorrow. I kept telling her I should tell her the information today, so that they would have it in their computers to start working on them as soon as the planes could fly, and after her fourth repetition she took down all the information, having it painfully repeated several times. She said she would forward the claim, and when the bags were found in DCA they would be forwarded through some other carrier and delivered to the Millennium Boston Hotel. Great!
I called the hotel and found they had no reservation for me, since all our reservations were canceled when the Halsted Society Meeting was canceled. I mad a new reservation just to get the bell desk to take down my name so that the bags could be delivered to this known location, since I hope to have the other medicine boxes for Nepal that Elizabeth Yellen has in Boston delivered there as well to consolidate all my stuff in the one place I figured would be known to all, even if I were not there. My reservation for Thursday night becomes as moot as the flight that would have carried me there, but I assured them that I would be returning there to pick up the bags coming from three sources, and going out mostly with me but at least the duffel with the Harkens later.
At night I had the inspiration of trying to call the Amtrak to get to Boston, and when I got the automated reservation, I jumped on it-but it went dead after I pressed the right buttons to hold it. All morning starting at around four the phones were still busy, so I got in the Bronco and drove to union station to see if I could reserve a train. The queue was about two hours long to speak to an agent, so I had an idea. I ducked out of line, with my "frequent training" Amtrak number, and put my credit card in the "Fast Trak" and only one slot showed up for Boston-that was this first class train to Boston the Acela Express. It is twice as expensive as the usual seat, but it is also twice as fast, with only three stops before Boston, and one of those-New York-is taken off the list, for reasons you can imagine. Besides, I have just discovered a magnificent reason to be taking the Express train! There is a 110 V power outlet at my seat!
I am in "Juice Junkie Heaven" since I have been having battery troubles in sustaining a laptop and always go on a rapid search of any airport to see where I can get my "toke" of a few amps to charge up my batteries before going anywhere. If only the planes made this simple service available! So, I am typing to you from a window seat going over the Delaware Bay and not even worrying about the machine crashing.
When I punched "Yes" for the automated ticket, the ticket was spit and my credit card billed, and the sign went out-meaning I had taken the last seat on the last train to Boston. (That name is the same as a Marathon, which is billed as the latest qualifying run to set a fast course to qualify for Boston.)
I emailed the message of the new Sep-B-series to you from GW (on my laptop using the remote access since the desk computer is still down-and packed up the carry-on bags I still had in the Bronco, and struggled once again-as I had on the "flight from Egypt" I had photographed and taped on fateful Tuesday-in herding with the lemmings on the way to Crystal City and the McDonald's, which, though closed, still let any of us who were originally in when they locked the doors to stay until the employees left. I felt more battered from, lugging my carry-on bags than I did after the weekend 22 mile run with Joe. But, now, here I go again, since I struggled to lug them along with me out of the Bronco which I left parked in GW basement garage, and walked through he same Maginot Line of military on the Pennsylvania that was my once pacific home. I transferred at Metro Center and got out at Union Station and went through a screening just like the airlines for the train, with a lot of police presence inside the station as well as ringing around the streets. Washington looks like a "full employment" city again, very much as many of the banana republics I know-or the former Soviet Union I had just written about in the last chapter of my Kamchatka-'02 letter-the army as the biggest employer of the excess manpower circulation around.
I have boarded this train and unpacked everything I thought I would need on the trip, and then they had a PA announcement that there was bad news-a mechanical problem. But, if we would just go over to the train on the next track over, it is that train that we will use for the Acela Express to Boston with only a little delay. Scooping up all my scattered stuff, I managed to drag it all over just after I had called the 800-number for the baggage claim. I had a woman with a Hispanic name, who took down all my information again, as I was dragging bags behind me looking for the bag claims numbers as I pushed over to the other train. She was patient and let me find the claim stubs and once again tell her about having them forwarded to the Boston Millennium, even though I will not be there but the information will be to hold it at the Bell Captain's check-in desk. When I had got this first-time claim written up, the agent said they will try to expedite it and if the planes are flying tomorrow, the bags could be there as soon as the following day. That might mean they could arrive in time for my connection with the L/H flight on Saturday evening to FRA and to DEL-if international flights are flying.
I had left messages on both Laurie's office phone and on the cell phone Alden is now carrying, so I hoped they were aware that I was coming up on the rail, whereas Alden had rented a car in Baltimore where he was administering the thoracic surgery board exams and-- has the Enterprise Rental Car which he found in Baltimore to drive up to Boston to either pick up Laurie when she comes in-she was ticketed today, and there is no flight service from Denver so she is coming up at the earliest tomorrow. Because of the hassles in this and the whole burden of the week, she and her daughter Tabby will probably spend the week up in Indian summer New Hampshire and Alden will be coming back on Sunday. I have one of those scarce rental car reservations now with Hertz, and Laurie had one with Avis she was planning to use, and Alden had found one in Baltimore with Enterprise, so we might be able to accommodate the different times of return from New Hampshire to Boston, so that Alden goes back to operating, Laurie and Tabby come home after a week of vacationing, And I get back when both my bags are here and I have a flight that will actually be leaving from the BOS to FRA and on to DEL where I was already a day late and would have to be specially awaited for transfer on through Simla up to the Spiti Valley.
Of the personnel joining us, all are still on board except for one resident who was getting departmental funds for the trip, and they said she could not travel under these circumstances, and if she chose to do so, they were canceling her funds. Three of the parties have made a Labor Day pre-mission vacation week in Europe, so they are already there where travel still can take place, as opposed to the US origins were interrupted-as you know so well-the moment I was to take off, and the same day that Ravi was expecting to leave from Atlanta.
I AM NOW PASSING THROUGH A SURREAL CITYSCAPE
I am just now passing through a bizarre scene, and no one around is saying a word. There is no announcement, but we all know what is going on here. I have ---on a single roll of film, the "pillar of smoke" that stood over the Pentagon and the next exposures show the ghost of the Manhattan skyline and a toothless gap where the World Trade Centers stood. I have taken the photo to remind me, since when I was last here as a celebration (the George Award) or previously on happy times which once were said to be the only day on which the whole city comes together, the New York City Marathon, but now here is another one. An occasion of a morbid frenzy, to see if there is any, hope against hope, life left in the ruins. The cell phone tower and the TV mast that once towered 300 feet above the 110 story twin towers, was found in the imploded ruins, and a piece of it was stuck up on top of the ten story rubble pile on which a USA flag was hung and all 200 of the nearby rescue workers, stopped and saluted in a silent pause. Big, tough burly firemen in waterproof gear on a hot dusty day field with acrid smoke, crying big tears and not only because of the eye irritation. This is the first non-Marathon Day when all New Yorkers come together. That is a rare enough asset that it ought to be well remembered. Of all the comments I or anyone else I have heard has written or said about the tragic day, all the helping has been positive. No one was looting stores, no one taking advantage when the crisis was heavy.
Much later we can turn into the more usual kinds of carnivores gouging each other and preying on the unwary-like the entrepreneurs who scooped up debris and were advertising it on E-Bay, until it was put a stop to by the company itself. It seems that in a direct hit against America, that politics is cleared off the deck-a great boon for the George Bush or any other leader in the world who has a marginal balance of conflicting claims of the kind of bickering seen on Monday before the Tuesday that put everyone on the same footing. All members of a divided congress stood on the capital steps and spontaneously broke into "God Bless America"-and not a party flag was evident nearby. This may be what kind of uni8ty is needed to pull the economy out of a recession from niggling about what entitlements need be cut back or favored plums have run out. There is no further talk about dipping into Social Security trust funds, since there is a unified external invading enemy that must be defined against, and whatever it takes to do so will be made available. It is probable that this great tragic reminder of the vulnerability and mortality shared by the world's remaining only Super Power go t a wakeup call of the kind that would to have been listened to in an environment of more, bigger, better, New Yorker kinds of wallowing in wealth of the "abs" and the brokers, and quite a few of the very kinds of folks were smoked on the upper reaches of this sky piercing tower of Babel. And, now, humbled into a common sense of mortality shared by the rest of humanity, we might once again speak the same language-even among New Yorkers.
I AM LEAVING THE VERY DIFUSED SUNSET BEHIND ME,
AS THE WESTERN SETTING SUN IS FILTERED THROUGH MANY TONS
OF DEBRIS SUSENDED IN THE AIR OVER MANHATTAN
Now behind me, the "Capital of the World" looks a little softer and kinder, if not gentler, having had a major greed extraction yanked out of its center. As I noted once in the great forest fires that swept Yellowstone and other parks when I had visited, the carnage on the ground often forces one to look up, and much prettier sunsets follow forest fires.
My next stop is Boston's South Station terminal. This will be followed by still other unknowns in what was a rather carefully structured plan-but I am used to the flexibility of things that bend when stressed. I would not have figured that this small, once Dutch Island would have as much resilience as it does given its reaction to minor annoyances, but a big one can bring out the best in even a hard-bitten New Yorker
Beyond Boston, I suspect I will see a very pretty part of New England in its
prettiest time of the year-the painfully and poignantly brief Indian summer.
Beyond that, I know what I will be seeing, having seen it all before, isolated
stark and desolate beauty along the Roof of the World. And hurting people in
each of the places.