By Bob Jannarone

     A number of my classmates and I have diseases related to exposure to Agent Orange* in Viet Nam.  I urge those who were wounded and those have those diseases to pay special attention, because most of them are missing out on a great benefit.

     Like my father, all three of his sons were in the military.  Dad, USMA ’38, served 35 years on active duty.  A World War II veteran of the Pacific Theater, he was on the second plane into Japan after the surrender.  He was in Viet Nam for only a few days, touring the South Vietnamese Military Academy when he was the Dean of the Academic Board.  When a sniper fired at those in his jeep, Major Dave Palmer, who accompanied him, fired at the sniper.  Dad credits him with saving his life.  Palmer wrote the Military Art pamphlet, “Revolution in America” that we used as cadets.  Palmer later became the Superintendent.  Dad died at the VA Hospital in Montrose, NY.  My mother could not take care of him any longer, as Alzheimer’s Disease took its toll.  I’m not aware that he had any VA compensation, but they were there for him at the end.

     My older brother Jack, USMA ’65, served 22 years in the Air Force.  He was in Viet Nam around the same time I was, ’70 to ’71.  Near the time of his retirement, Hodgkin’s lymphoma was first detected, but not treated.  Since he was still on active duty at the time, after a lot of effort on his part, the Air Force took responsibility.  The VA declared him 100% disabled for a time, but then downgraded him to below 50% after a while.  When he applied, he had to agree that the amount of his military retired pay up to the amount of VA compensation had to be waived.  So, in those days, the late 1980s, some of his paychecks were taxable, and some (VA) were not.  I’m not sure of the numbers, but, for example, if he were getting $2500 a month retired pay from the Air Force, and the VA compensation were $1500, he was still getting $2500 a month, but only $1000 was taxed.  Over time, the treatments he received for Hodgkin’s disease caused other problems, so he has been evaluated numerous times by the VA, and his rating has been changed several times.  Still, he like many others, is not very happy with the VA because it seems like they are always trying to downgrade his application, often defying their own rules for achieving a particular rating.

     The laws relating to Concurrent Receipt of Disability Pay (CRDP), which is taxable, and a newer Combat Related Special Compensation (CRSC) which is not taxed, and the amounts that are tax free have changed several times in the past fifteen or so years.  Those who were able to have CRDP (taxable) were very happy because they could now get all of their retired pay plus the non-taxable VA compensation.

     Several years later when CRSC came into being, Jack found out and applied for CRSC through the Air Force.  It took the Air Force fewer than two months to approve his request.  They notified Defense Finance and Accounting Service (DFAS).  So now, as he describes it, he gets Military Retired Pay (taxable) and CRSC (non-taxable), both from DFAS, and VA compensation (non-taxable).  The CRSC amount is the same as his VA amount.

     I am the second son, but I’m going to treat my younger brother next.  Dick turned down his appointment to USMA, opting instead for an ROTC Scholarship to Princeton.  He served over six years, mostly in Germany, before embarking on a career in sales, mostly jet aircraft to other countries.  He was never in a combat zone, so when he got prostate cancer, and ultimately died from it, there was never a question of VA compensation.

     I had a stroke the day my brother died.  I have aphasia.  For a while, I couldn’t write, do math, figure anything out.  I’m still not right, and that is my most serious health problem, but it has nothing to do with my military career.  But since my brother died from prostate cancer, my urologist kept a close eye on me.  When I had symptoms, he was right on it, and a surgeon removed my prostate. 

     I had 5 years active duty and 28 years in the Army Reserve.  So, I got military retirement pay at age 60, based on 11 equivalent years of active duty.  I went to the Pennsylvania Department of Veterans Affairs (DVA) to apply for VA compensation.  One thing they asked was what my military retired pay amount was.  I’m not sure why.  They filled out the paperwork, and after a few months I got a lot of (to my mind, confusing) letters, ultimately saying I got VA compensation starting the first of the month after I submitted paperwork and I didn’t owe anything to DFAS.  My only complaint with VA is they didn’t notify me about downgrading my rating several years later, so I had no chance to respond. 

     I met my older brother almost a year to the day after I filed for VA compensation.  He was coming from Highland Falls to visit his son who lives near me, in Lancaster, PA.  I was going to rendezvous with my daughter and grandkids in the Poconos.  So, we met at a diner halfway.  He asked if I got CRSC.  I didn’t know.  When I got home, I saw that I had CRDP, which is the first step.  Looking at what I got from Pennsylvania DVA, I saw that I should have applied for CRSC after the first series of letters.  They gave me the number for DFAS.  So, I called DFAS.  They told me I needed to contact my service—in my case, the Army.

     I got a number from DFAS for US Army Human Resources Command (HRC).  The person answering said to do it online.  There was a problem with the software, so I couldn’t download it.  A software engineer here was finally able to give me a form that I could write on.  I filled it out, and nine months later got the approval.  Get that – nine months later. 

     So, the next month, DFAS gave me a new Retiree Account Statement that said I had no taxable income.  My Gross Pay was less that VA compensation, so all of it was now non-taxable.  Until that time, monthly payments to the Survivor Benefit Plan (SBP) were taken from Gross Pay, (and therefore were not taxed) along with Income Tax Withholding, to result in Net Pay.  There was no provision for DFAS to take money from CRSC to pay for SBP, so I was billed monthly for SBP.  But after about six months there was a new provision signed into law that said DFAS could do so, and they did.  But they gave me a form to show how much of my income should be adjusted for those payments.

     So, you folks who are in this situation, that is, those who have a Military Pension and have a wound or a condition caused by exposure to Agent Orange in Viet Nam, should apply to HRC online.  In the search box next to the login box in the upper right, type in “Apply for CRSC.”  It will tell you what to do.  Fill out DD Form 2860 (the download problem is now fixed) and wait. Hopefully that wait is not as long as mine.

    But there’s more.  Again, laws keep changing.  When my brother first filed amended IRS returns because some of his income that had been taxed was declared non-taxable, he referred to an IRS Ruling 78-161, known as the Strickland Decision.  He was not aware of CRDP, so he was very concerned that I was getting both VA compensation and my whole military gross pay.  He searched for more than a month, so did I, about what paperwork was required to file an amended return for me.  Online search was not helpful.  The VA didn’t know.  Neither did American Legion or Veterans of Foreign Wars, American Armed Forces Mutual Aid Association, or Military Officers Association of America.  The Pennsylvania DVA told me I definitely could not do it. 

     But you can.  Finally, my brother found it.  I told the Pennsylvania DVA, and they responded with thanks, and said all their service officers would have this information to pass on to those who applied for VA benefits with them.  I also wrote the American Legion, telling them that their service officers should get that training, but got no response.

     Once you get your approval from HRC, which will say that you get CRSC from the date of your VA compensation, you can amend your returns for the last five years, if you need to.  You can just go the IRS website and in the search box type in “Special Tax Considerations for Veterans” and you will see the two situations involved.  My brother had the first situation as his VA compensation kept changing.  Mine, and probably yours, will be the second, where you have CRDP and have now been approved for CRSC. 

     In my case, I was approved for CRSC in August of 2017, based on my VA approval date of 1 November 2015.  I filled out 1040Xs for 2015 and 2016 right away.  I had to wait until 2017 taxes were submitted the usual way before I was allowed to file an amended return for that year.  In each case, it took another nine months or more to collect my refund.  I got back around $15,000 altogether. 

     For 2015, the IRS gave me back more than they were supposed to.  There’s more about that in another story about honesty.  It’s so sad that people know just one little part of the whole, and when confronted with a pretty unique situation, can’t reason it out.  

*Agent Orange was a tactical herbicide the U.S. military used to clear leaves and vegetation for military operations mainly during the Vietnam War.

One of the jobs I had in the Army Reserve was an Attachment to the United States Military Academy as a Military Academy Liaison Officer, in addition to being Assigned to the Army Corps of Engineers, New York District. I worked in Western New York centered in Rochester with two other more senior officers at first, and when they moved on, I was the senior man and recruited two others to work with me. I interviewed candidates for the Military Academy and advised them of the opportunities afforded by West Point and by the Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC), as a college option. I always told them that West Point was hard, and that they wouldn’t like it, but that it was very worthwhile. Most years, the area that I covered produced at least seven cadets. I loved being the top guy, as I was the last several years I was in Rochester. It was also nice to see how the cadets had matured during their years at West Point. When they were home on leave at Christmas time, we had a social event, inviting that year’s candidates to meet them. We had another event to send off the new cadets who were entering that summer. It was also nice to receive an Army Commendation Medal and later a Meritorious Service Medal for the work I did as a Reservist for the Military Academy. I did that for thirteen years, 1976-89. Then, I became the Associate Director of Admissions at West Point as a Department of the Army civilian employee.

     I was responsible for 4 three-day visits by high school guidance counselors, and one Admissions Participant Conference. I led the Invitational Academic Workshop each June, where about 400 rising high school seniors would come for a week-long program. Also, to be conversant with what the Admissions Officers were doing, I was responsible for the admissions files for the state of Kansas and was the officer on duty for the day on a rotating basis, for calls that came in from anywhere. I left Admissions after four and half years and went to work for the Army Corps of Engineers in the West Point Resident Office. As a reservist, I became a Drilling Individual Mobilization Augmentee and went to work in New York City once a month, first at New York District headquarters, then later at the North Atlantic Division headquarters.

     When I was promoted to Colonel, in 1997, I again became a Military Academy Liaison Officer. Although I wasn’t the senior officer, I was the only one who had actual experience in the Admissions Office. I usually answered any questions posed by parents when candidates were taking the Physical Aptitude Exam in the West Point Gym. The exam took about an hour: it was pull-ups for men or a flexed-arm hang for women, a standing long jump, an awkward positioned basketball throw, and a 300-yard shuttle run. It counted 10% of what West Point calls a Whole Candidates Score but must be passed or the candidate is disqualified. (Sometime, more recently, that test was changed.  The pull-ups or flexed arm hang remains.  So does the basketball throw.  The standing long jump was eliminated.  The shuttle run was changed to 40 yards.  There are now two minutes for modified sit-ups, two for push-ups, and a one-mile run.)

 The parents asked lots of questions. I particularly remember how I answered some. A parent asked, “When will we know?” I said, “Well, Sir, you never know for sure, so don’t give up hope, but most offers are made by mid-March. Make sure to complete the file, because even if not offered admission, you might be offered USMA Prep School; Civil Prep, a program where students could go to a civilian school for a year and be provided special consideration under terms acceptable to the NCAA (funded by donations to USMA); or a three-year advanced ROTC scholarship. “Then, I told this story. A father from Kansas (First District, in the Kansas City Metroplex area) called asking that same question, and I gave him that response. What I didn’t tell him was that four candidates from that District already had offers of admission. I had already told this group of parents waiting for their son or daughter taking the Physical Aptitude Exam, that West Point had one of the highest “Capture Rates” of any college. Ours was always around 75%. That meant that for an entering class of 1200 students, we would offer admission to 1600 candidates. As an aside, when I visit candidates in their homes, I explain that Service-Connected nominations come from the President, who has 100 vacancies to fill each year, offspring of Active Duty or Retired soldiers; 100% disabled veterans, who have 12; ROTC and Junior ROTC who have 20. Soldiers, either Active Duty or Reserve get 170, with most coming from USMA Prep. Congressman and the Vice President have a total of 5 vacancies to fill throughout the four-year program. Most have one vacancy to fill each year, and two every fourth year. For every Congressional vacancy coming open, the congressman can nominate ten.

                          

     There are three classes of Appointments. Vacancy Fills, 150 Congressionally-nominated Qualified Alternates; or Additional Appointees from any nomination source for desired Class Size or Class Composition goals—Minorities, Women, Athletes, Soldiers, Leaders, or Scholars. In this case, of the four who were offered Appointments, two were Early Action candidates. More than 90% of those candidates accepted their offers. I figured that three out of four would ultimately accept, and since their scores were better that this man’s son, the son would not get an offer as the vacancy fill for that district, nor was he rated high enough to get an offer as a Qualified Alternate or Additional Appointee. In late March, one non-Early Action candidate declined his offer. A week later the second one did, too. The Early Action candidates waited until close to the National Reply Date, May 1, when all colleges expect answers from their offers. The last one rolled in on April 29. All four had declined. They most likely went to Air Force, much closer to Kansas than West Point. Some might have gone to Navy. We lose most decliners to the other Service Academies. So, by law, his son, fully qualified, and next in line in that district, had to be offered admission. Normally, the Congressman advises the candidate that West Point will make an offer of admission to him or her. Once the Admissions Committee meets and decides to make an offer, our office in DC is notified, and they in turn notify the Congressman. Then, we wait three days before sending a packet to the candidate. We’re not supposed to upstage the congressman. I called the house in Kansas. I told the father that his son would get an offer from West Point, but that the Admissions Committee would not meet again until May 7, and the Congressman would be notified first; he would notify his son by phone call or letter, and his son would get a packet from West Point about May 15. It brought laughter when I said that we’re not supposed to upstage the Congressman, and here I am telling a whole roomful of people that I did that. (However, I never told my boss that I did.)

     The father wanted to know if he and his son could visit West Point before making a decision. I made arrangements, and they came two days later, on May 1. The Committee met on May 7, approved his offer, DC was notified, the Congressman was notified, the packet from us was sent. About ten days later, his postcard declining admission was received. He had accepted an offer from Pittsburg State University, a state school near the Missouri border. Since the other five candidates from that district had not completed their files, there was no one to fill the congressman’s vacancy that year. So, you never know. 

     Another parent asked what to do if her kid didn’t get selected. I related another story. A candidate from the 5th District of Kansas, which encompasses the whole western half of the state, applied. The candidate’s father was career enlisted, so she got a Presidential nomination right off the bat and applied to her Representative and the two Senators from the state. All candidates are advised to do so. She got a nomination from her Representative. Found lacking academically, she was admitted to the USMA Prep School at that time at Fort Monmouth, NJ, for the next academic year. She struggled academically at the Prep School and was not recommended for admission to the U.S. Military Academy by the Commandant of the Prep School. But as far as West Point was concerned, she was qualified. She had nominations again from the President and her Representative in Congress. Only a handful of candidates had applied in her district, most had not completed the full file, and those who had been offered admission had declined. The latest one had done so in early June. So, she got an offer, accepted, and reported with the rest of the Prep School students. She struggled mightily at West Point, had to go to the Summer Term Academic Program several summers, but survived to graduate with her class. The last I heard, she was a Major, still serving on Active Duty. The last question was “When is the best time for someone to apply?” The answer was in the summer or early fall of senior year of high school. Then, I related this story, which, I told the parents, had a tragic ending.

     I was the duty officer one day in the week before Christmas. A parent called, asking for an application for his son. They lived in Maryland. I wrote down the information and sent it to the Records and Testing Office, who sends out the Pre-Candidate Questionnaire along with some materials that explain the application process. It is a quite involved process, which includes nominations from a Congressional or Service-Connected source before a candidate can be offered admission. Two weeks later, the parent called again because nothing from West Point had come. I guess it was lost in the Christmas mail rush. So, I personally sent another packet, and called the home a week later to confirm that it got there. The son sent in his Pre-Candidate Questionnaire, which showed that he was a viable candidate, so he was sent a Second Step Kit, scheduled a Physical Aptitude Exam, and a medical exam. The kit included papers to be filled out by high school officials detailing sports and non-sports leadership experiences. That counts 30% of the total score. For those keeping track, 60% of the score is for academic achievement: high school class rank and SAT or ACT scores. The Medical Exam process is administered by the Department of Defense Medical Exam Review Board, located at the Air Force Academy. They review exams for the Service Academies and ROTC Scholarships. Though not part of a Whole Candidates Score, it must be passed. The young man came for an overnight visit to West Point. I met him myself, and I was impressed. He was disqualified by the findings on the Medical Exam, but because he had a good total score, West Point recommended him for a waiver. But this was getting late in the admissions cycle. Early Action candidate had their files complete by the end of November and were acted upon in December. Most other vacancies were completed by the middle of March. Second-try candidates who’d gone on to college had their files reviewed in early April. Very few offers were made beyond that time; those were mostly vacancy fills for a Congressional district where a candidate declined an offer of admission. Late in April, the Admissions Office determined that three people, next by Whole Candidate Score on the waiting list, would be offered admission.

     The son was at the top of the waiting list, but had not received a medical waiver, so he was passed over. There were no more offers of admission off the waiting list that year. The next day his medical waiver came through, good for the next admissions cycle, too. He applied again for the next year, went to college, did well, and was very likely to be offered admission when the second-try candidates were processed. Then, we received word from his family that he had been killed as a passenger in a car accident. What a shame. He would have been a great cadet and army officer.

     Admissions, according to a Superintendent of West Point while I was there, is the most important part of the process; more important than Academics or Military Training. While complicated, from my experience, it is a very positive process. We look for reasons to qualify a candidate rather than to disqualify. We have some great candidates and we encourage them to complete their files. We encourage those who don’t make it on their first attempt to try again. After all, I’m the son of a man who didn’t get a nomination the first three times he tried. But on the fourth try he did, and he received a Vacancy Fill Appointment, finished first in his class in General Order of Merit, and became a General Officer. 

After I left Army Active Duty in 1974, I worked for the DuPont Company in Rochester, NY for fifteen years, making silver halide-based photographic film.  There came a time when it was apparent to me that the plant was doomed by the advent of digital film.  So, I started looking for other employment.  I knew that the job as Associate Director of Admissions at West Point had been filled as I had reached the fourteen-year mark, so I figured that was out.  I had not applied, because the fifteen-year mark was the threshold for survivor benefits for my wife, who I had met and married in Rochester in 1977.  It was also the yardstick for an opportunity to take an annuity at age 50—which I ultimately didn’t do.  But I asked the Civilian Personnel Office to let me know if the job became vacant again.  So, I looked at jobs in the Rochester area and applied to a Search Firm that looked for jobs nationwide.  I didn’t have any success.

Then, one day in March 1989, everyone was called in and plant management said we were going to downsize from 1100 to 325, and there was an incentive to leave by the end of the month.  I had a fairly decent job at DuPont and didn’t want to leave until I had fifteen years and a definite new job.

That afternoon when I got home, there was a letter from the Civilian Personnel Office at West Point, advising me that the Admissions job was open again.  I applied for the job, went for an interview, and was picked.  So, twenty years from the day I graduated, I went back to West Point.

I was supposed to start on Monday, June 5, when the new crop of Admissions Officers started their training.  The only problem was that I reached the fifteen-year mark on June 17.  I had several weeks leave coming, and I expected that that would be enough to carry me over the threshold.  However, DuPont personnel said I had to be actually at the Plant past fifteen years for me to get the service credit.  My boss in Admissions said they would cancel training on Monday, June 19, so that I could go back to Rochester on the weekend, appear at work there, and close out my career there that day.  So, I did. My wife, who was still in Rochester and supposed to be selling the house, soon thereafter informed me that she wasn’t coming and had filed for divorce.

One reason I was picked for the job was that I had been an Admissions Field Force member for thirteen years, receiving Army Reserve retirement point credit each year for the work I had done, so the bosses in Admissions were familiar with me and my work.  Admissions rewarded me with a Meritorious Service Medal for the work I had done in Rochester.

When I went to West Point in June of 1976 for training as a Military Academy Liaison Officer, the trainees were stationed outside the Library at one point, with each one being photographed individually, to be accompanied by the form “Information for Hometown News Release.”  I remembered seeing two women leave the Library, one very short and one very tall.  It turns out that that was the first time I laid eyes on my future wife—the short one.  I still remember that clearly.

I also worked for the Army Corps of Engineers as an Individual Mobilization Augmentee in New York District, and ended up as the Deputy Commander before moving on to a colonel’s slot at its higher headquarters, the North Atlantic Division.  I also went from one Army School course to another as I worked toward promotion in the Reserves.

More than a year later, in 1990, I was taking a correspondence course that required two term papers.  So, on a Sunday night, I went to the USMA Library to check out some books for research. I had been in the library as a high school student and as a cadet. As I went to the Circulation Desk, books in hand, I guess I was transported back in time to the way it had been before.  There were no Library Cards when I was a cadet.  I just took the card out of the pocket inside the back cover, signed Jannarone H-3, and went on my merry way. When the man in front of me was done, I looked for the card in the first book and was astounded to find that there was no pocket and no card.

The woman at the desk asked what was wrong.  I explained that there was no card for the book.  Then she asked me for my Library Card.  “What card?”  I was non-plussed.  She asked to see an ID.  I showed her my Department of the Army Civilian ID card.  When she said she would have to verify my employment in the morning, I took out my Army Reserve ID card and showed her that.  It was not acceptable.  So, I took off my class ring and held it out to her, saying if she would be good enough to give me the books now, I would be back tomorrow for whatever paperwork was required.

Without a word, she turned on her heels and walked away to a back room.  Soon another woman came out.  My jaw dropped, as this vision of loveliness, my age, my size, with no ring, asked if she could help me.  Regaining my composure, I said I wanted to check out books but didn’t have a Library Card.  She said she would put the books on a shelf at the desk, confirm my employment in the morning, and process my Library Card.  I thanked her and said I would be back at 1255 tomorrow.

The next day I took my usual two mile run at lunchtime, showered at the gym, and went to the Library at 1255.  Two ladies were at the Circulation Desk, and as I approached it, the vision of loveliness approached from the Reference Desk opposite it.

The two asked what I wanted.  I replied that I was Bob Jannarone and was coming to get my Library Card and books.  The two of them asked in unison if I was related to General Jannarone.  I replied that I was his second son.  The two of them introduced themselves and said they had known him in the Physics and Chemistry Department and as the Dean.  Apparently, they liked him.  They should have.  Dad treated the civilian staff well.

The Library Card was ready, I got my books, and thanked the two.  The vision of loveliness, who had moved to the Circulation Desk, too, tried to go back to her desk.  I cut her off at the entrance to the Circulation Desk and said I hadn’t gotten her name.  She gave it to me—Linda Thompson— and said she was the Circulation Librarian.

I saw her as I was coming out of the Admissions Office a few days later, when she was going for a walk at break time, and I called out to her.  I think she was surprised that I remembered her name.  By that time, I also knew her academic credentials by reading the West Point College Catalog, and I knew her address by looking in the West Point Phone book.

One of my jobs as the Associate Director of Admissions was to manage five three-day visits to West Point.  Three were for high school guidance counselors, one for Congressional Aides, and one for West Point Admissions Participants.  For the counselors and aides, there was a coffee break in the rotunda outside South Auditorium of Thayer Hall, on the Thursday of the visit, before they went to classes with cadets.  There was another one on Friday in the West Point Room on the fourth floor of the Library before the Director of Admissions delved into the actual files of candidates for the next class.

After I met Linda, when the coffee breaks were over, I carried the excess doughnuts to the Library Circulation Desk, hoping that she might be there.

One Thursday afternoon, when the counselors were meeting cadets who were from their high schools, I walked to the Library, and she was at the desk.  I asked her if she had gotten one of the doughnuts that I left at the desk that morning.  She replied that she was on the night shift on Thursdays and had reported for work only a short time ago, and the doughnuts were probably gone within a few minutes of when I left them that morning.  She was working days on Friday, and opening shift on that Saturday.

Librarians at that time worked one weekday night and one shift every third weekend.  She always picked opening shift on Saturday, so it was a very rare occurrence that she had been on the closing shift on a Sunday when we met.

The next day soon after she got home from her day shift, the local flower shop delivered flowers to her.  She lived with her mother and aunt.  The aunt asked who they were from.  Linda said, “Remember General Jannarone?  These are from his son.”

Linda started work at the library in 1975, a year after my father retired, so she didn’t know him.  But Aunt Ruth had worked at West Point starting in 1942, first in the Law Department, then the Dean’s Office, as a schoolteacher in the West Point school, then a principal at the school.  She knew the name.  My brother Dick and my sister Nancy had been at the school when the aunt was there and were good students.   Aunt Ruth thought Linda meant grandson—a cadet—but Linda affirmed it was a son.  That was a point in my favor.

So, on Saturday morning, I went to the Library, stationed myself at the Card Catalog, and waited until Linda came over.

She said the flowers were very nice, and then I asked her out to dinner.  She said no.  They were doing an upgrade to the computer system.  She was having to reconnect all the computers in the library, crawling under desks and tables, and she would be exhausted by the end of the day.  “Can I have a rain check?”  “Sure,” I said, “how about tomorrow?”

That was our first date.  We married in 1992, and the rest is history, except for one final point.

We bought a house in Cornwall-on-Hudson, furnished it, and settled in.  One day, Linda brought out some old pictures.  One was a graduation picture from 1983 and in another I recognized the girl in the picture as a younger version of my wife, with a much different hair style.  In fact, the one I had seen back in 1976 leaving the library.

 

*Photos with permission of the Jack Engemann Collection at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County

** Photos courtesy of the West Point Library

 

 

I like to travel by train rather than plane. Many times, my wife and I have gone to Florida on a train with a Deluxe Bedroom.

At first, that accommodation had a VCR that offered several choices of movies, and we looked forward to watching them. But apparently, they required a lot of maintenance, so Amtrak finally decided to stop using them. They also used to have a bed-time sweet, but that stopped, too. We’ve gone as far as Denver, going west, and from Glacier National Park back to New York going east. We still like the trains. It’s comfortable, we meet new people when we go to the dining car (included in our fare) which offers very good meals, and it is forced relaxation.

Once, after a business trip to Boston, I was going to spend a few days with my sister Nancy and her husband “Big Bob” in nearby Winchester. So, I showed up at the commuter rail terminal and purchased a ticket. Normally, I carry all my paper money in a billfold, but this day I had a one-dollar bill in my pocket along with a substantial amount of change—more that I usually carry. The ticket cost $4.85. So, I pulled out the rumpled dollar bill and counted out another $3.85 in change and gave it all to the ticket agent. The agent said to me “Gee, did you save up for this trip.”

Another time, I was traveling alone from Rochester, NY to Poughkeepsie, NY. I boarded the 2PM train, which was two hours late, so it was about 4PM when I got on. For some reason, I prayed that the trip would be OK. It was about a six-hour trip, and after my supper I fell asleep. I woke up when people started to exit the train, and because it looked kind of like my stop, I got off with them. I got to the terminal after climbing many stairs. Then I found out that I was at Rhinecliff,
one stop before I was supposed to get off. It was supposed to be the last train of the day, according to my schedule. I asked to ticket agent for help.

He told me that the train coming south from Montreal was two and a half hours late and was going to come into the station in ten minutes. I was to get on that train, explain to the conductor that I got off at the wrong stop, and go on to Poughkeepsie, and that’s what happened. I’m so glad I prayed.

One time my wife and I traveled from Poughkeepsie to Port Kent, NY. Poughkeepsie had both Amtrak and a commuter train to New York City. The terminal was old, but grand in its day. Several hundred cars parked there every day. Port Kent, only a summer stop on the line, had a small concrete platform with a roof over a small bulletin board containing the northbound and southbound schedules. From there we were going to catch a Lake Champlain Ferry boat to Burlington, VT.

We had two hours and forty minutes before the last ferry of the day, according to the train schedule, and we hoped we might catch the one that left two hours before that. The train left New York City, where it started, an hour late because of engine trouble on the original locomotive. Another one had to be obtained from Sunnyside Yard, where extra train locomotives and cars were kept. We kept that hour late until we got to Schenectady, where we split off from the line to western New York and advanced along the Lake George—Lake Champlain corridor. Some consider this the most scenic route in America. But today, we weren’t thinking about that. We were thinking that we were crawling along very slowly because of track work that was going on. Instead of seventy-nine miles an hour, we were going much slower. We thought that we still had plenty of time to catch the last ferry. But as time went on, and we kept crawling, we weren’t so sure of making the connection. We asked the conductor, who assured us that we would make it. A little while later, he came to us and said that there was another couple getting off there and wanting to take the ferry, too, and that we would make it. The next time he came through, he said that when we got within five miles of Port Kent, the engineer would blow his whistle repeatedly to alert the ferry that the train was getting close. Finally, he said on a final time through that we should pray.

As we neared the station, the conductor said he would let us off on the wrong side of the train, giving me precious extra time to run down to the ferry dock and ask them to hold off. We were between five and ten minutes later than the last ferry departure time when we got to Port Kent. I could see the ferry engines running, but it was still there.

Huffing and puffing, hauling a suitcase, I got to a deckhand and told him my wife and another couple were coming, too, and please wait. He tried to calm me down, and he and another man, possibly the first mate, explained that they knew the train hadn’t gotten there, and almost certainly there were some passengers on it that wanted to take the ferry. No matter how late the train was, they were going to wait for it, so it was no problem.

It was a nice ferry ride, across the widest part of Lake Champlain. But on the way back, eight days later, we got caught in a rainstorm and my wife and I got soaked. But we had our suitcases with us and were able to change clothes.

Wouldn’t you know, the same train conductor greeted us as we got on, asking us “Did you make the ferry?” That was so nice that he remembered us, and we told him so, and we wrote to Amtrak extolling his virtues. Years later we went to Montreal by train, and we met him again, and recalled that trip.