Story lost. Story found.

I can still remember the moment I first felt compelled to write. I was sitting on a train at Union Station and my brain was suddenly filled with thoughts and observations that simply needed to come out in words. I scrambled to find a piece a paper and started writing... The year was 1994.

Several computer crashes later, I thought I had lost that story forever. Lo' and behold, today I found a hard copy tucked away in a folder. And so, in its first ever public appearance, I give you...

STORIES ON A TRAIN

Five-twenty-three. Seven minutes to departure time for VIA train no. 46 en route to Ottawa from Toronto’s Union Station. As I wait to begin my journey home, I look around me taking in these unfamiliar sights and sounds.

Across the platform, on the next track over, another train awaits its departure time. This one is a two-tiered GO train, filled with commuters.

Each person on that train represents a story to be heard – some happy, some sad, some stories much like my own. Who are you? Are you glad to be heading home, or does a dreaded situation await you? What kind of day did you have? Did you make someone feel good about themselves today? Did someone pat you on the back when you desperately needed it? Was it another fruitless day of job searching, or did you jump on that unexpected opportunity? Do you feel alone and troubled, or are you at peace? Do you have family? Friends? Who are you?

So many faces, so many stories. So many people just like me, so many people nothing like me. They’re just sitting there – waiting for the train to pull out… bringing them somewhere, or nowhere.

Finally, the GO train moves, heading off with its human cargo. As it slides away, it reveals, on the next track over…

…another train, filled with commuters. Each person on that train represents a story to be heard – some happy, some sad, some stories just like my own.

For some reason, this strikes me as funny. A never-ending parade of faces and stories, layered here in the tunnels of Union Station. As this second train moves away, it reveals on the next track over…

…another train, filled with commuters. This one faces the other direction. “Even funnier,” I think to myself. "A mirror image of the first two – destination unknown."

My view is suddenly interrupted by the arrival of another train on Track One. This one is different – it’s empty. It has come to feed itself on the eager commuters who offer themselves freely as they pass through its beckoning doors. Again, faces, stories, people carrying secrets… But I won’t see this one fill up; it’s my turn to move on. The show is over – for now.

My journey continues, uneventful. Suddenly, a train going in the opposite direction zooms by. With our combined speed, it takes but a split second. Just inches separating these carriers – carriers of people, or stories, of secrets…

WHAT IF?... for some miscalculated reason, these two trains were to collide? For that violent instant, we would all share one terrifying story. Our lives would forever carry a common element, one of fear, one of prayer. Just inches… But I count my blessings and look around me. This train, VIA no. 46 from Toronto to Ottawa, is filled with passengers.

And each person on this train represents a story to be heard –
some happy,
some sad,
some stories much like my own.

PAX,