We went to the Illinois Train Museum in a small town west of Chicago. John almost drooled. It had more trains than any other museum he has been to. We started with a ride on an interurban car from the North Shore Line.
When the motorman invited people to ride in front, John was right there. Doesn’t he have a satisfied look on his face as he came back toward me?
When the ride was over, John was the only one who accepted the invitation to sit in the motorman’s seat.
John said it was a good thing his sister Barbara and Thom were meeting us on the way to Minnesota, otherwise we might still be at the train museum. We looked at many engines and interurban cars, and John had a comment on almost every one. If I could remember half the things he says, I’d be an expert.
When Barbara and Thom met us in that town, we had lunch at a German pub. We managed to eat and begin catching up with news at the same time.