Hello, friends.
The week went by with the speed of one being tied to the front of a high-speed train. Emotional ups and downs. The trip to Boston to see Hamilton was terrific! We were in the area of and then in Boston Common the day after 125,000 people attended the No Kings protest in the city and, with the exception of some police traffic horses, there was literally no evidence that so many people had been in the area to angrily but peacefully protect our country.
Except…the performance of Hamilton was the best I’ve seen. The performers were feeling the energy of the previous day and it infused the show. An already special event was even more special.
Welcome to the 145th installment of Gauthic Times, the newsletter about my writing, my life, and trains of opportunity. If you’re a reader who subscribes via Substack, my website, or Patreon, your encouragement helps motivate me. I’m not breaking any records but I’m thankful to have any audience.
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This week saw about 1,600 words added to Project: Moons. Some sessions saw more work than others and one night I did two sessions of about twenty minutes to get around 500 words. It felt good to have the ball rolling a little more this week. The book’s not going to light the literary world on fire but I think it’s entertaining enough.
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We boarded the MBTA Commuter Rail train from the Church Street Station in New Bedford around 8:20 AM. Pamela, G, and I were going to Boston for the day to see Hamilton at the Citizens Opera House. I’d run into a former student who was also boarding the train and we spoke a little before going onboard. He went upstairs, the family and I went downstairs. A minute or so later, the train began moving and so started the journey. Emotion welled in my chest and caught me off guard. I’d been waiting for this moment for more than 30 years.
I grew up in the small city of New Bedford, Massachusetts, and when I was in high school in the early-to-mid-1990s, news came that a commuter train would connect the city to Boston. This sounded great. My parents were people to go far and they would never really willingly go into Boston. Mom didn’t drive and Dad hates cities. He didn’t love being in New Bedford, never mind the hour-plus drive into a major metropolitan city. The train sounded great because it was access that wasn’t a bus. Sure, busses went to Boston, but the train…
When I graduated high school in 1995, the dreams of the commuter rail had already been postponed when Governor William Weld took office. Every few years, the news would report that the commuter rail would come within the next five years but those five years would pass with little-to-no movement.
They fixed the rails around 20 years ago. Now the commuter train would come! Yet…it didn’t.
Then, around six years ago, the news reported it yet again. This time, things began happening. Construction began in the area of the Church Street Station in 2020. Since my father lived a couple of miles away in one direction and my job was about a mile away in a different direction, the construction was something I watched happen.
Finally, a few months ago, the T to Boston finally opened.
I was happy but it didn’t affect me much. In the years since they’d first announced the commuter rail, I’d gone to Boston many times, including living there for around two years. Pamela lived in Boston when I met her, having lived there around 18 years. I’d driven there many, many times, even taking my parents up there when my mother fought her first battle against ovarian cancer.
I didn’t expect the well of emotions that came with finally being on that train. I felt it both ways, too. This was something my younger self had been excited about but never got to see. Now here I am in the twilight of my forties and I get to take the train to the city.
I loved it.
The opening of possibilities that the train provides is astonishing. A small city like New Bedford has more than its share of urban problems with little of the opportunity a city like Boston provides. Knowing that my students now have a direct line to Boston that’s affordable (unlimited weekend passes are $10), that my kids have this, humbles me.
People are limited to the opportunity that’s provided to them. If they feel they cannot seize and opportunity, they may not go for it. Something as seemingly silly as a train to a city that’s an hour north shouldn’t feel like the opening of the frontier but it somehow does. If people from a financially hurt area has more opportunity, that can only be good for everyone in the area.
“This train
Dreams will not be thwarted
This train
Faith will be rewarded”
– Bruce Springsteen, “Land of Hope and Dreams”
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Gautham: Bill Gauthier.com 
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