By Collin Hall
My old Volvo was almost vaporized the other day by a massive Ford F-250. As the truck slammed on its brakes to avoid t-boning my car and the precious cargo within (an imported Kirby plush, two skateboards, lots of McDonald’s wrappers, and myself), a single thought flashed before me: I’d rather be on a train.
Train lines once dotted the streets of nearly every major shore town on our peninsula. The main road into Sea Isle City, John F. Kennedy Blvd, was host to a trolley line that brought visitors to and from the island. Visitors could hop on a train in Philadelphia and find themselves on Wildwood island within the day for just a dollar. Rio Grande, along “Railroad Ave,” was host to a major train station that sent visitors on their way to Cape May and the Wildwoods. To this day, “ghost tracks” still peek up from the sands of Cape May’s beaches when a nasty storm hits.
Were it so easy! Trains were wonderful because they represented a shared transportation cost. Sure, one could bring their expensive vehicle to the shore, but there was no strict need to do so. Those who could not afford a car had ample opportunity to visit our beaches via train from faraway towns across Pennsylvania and New Jersey.
When I worked at a newspaper in Ohio, many of the older folks (I’m talking gentlemen and women in their mid-90s) still mourned the loss of the old train lines that once were an essential part of day-to-day life. I interviewed a man for his 100th birthday in Orwell, Ohio – he told me that the small town was designed with people in mind rather than with large automobiles in mind. That meant more walkable downtowns, skinnier roads, wider sidewalks, and easy access by foot to most essential shops.
Think about how much stress comes with thousands and thousands of folks trying to park their (ever larger) cars on our small islands!
Outside of major metro areas, our society operates under the assumption that everybody has their own car. My beloved twin was going to move here – they just ended a stint as an English teacher in Japan – but reeled at the idea of buying a car on a tight budget. Their life was made easy by abundant public transportation that spread across Japan.
I visit Philadelphia about once a month – the ride takes me an hour and a half and costs me about $25 in gas. I would love to skip the driving, hop on a train, and read a book during that commute. Instead, we are all made to bear the expensive, maintenance-heavy burden of car ownership.
I understand that many people have a deep love for the automobile. I, a crazed Hot Wheels collector, count myself among them. But the average American spends about $10,000 on car ownership. I dream of a county – and I recognize this solution won’t work for everyone – that is deeply connected via train lines.
Jesus, take the wheel, and let me read my book!