By Nikki Membiela, Peer Tutor
March 21, 2023

When I was a child, I lived about a block away from a train station. Every night I would be lulled to sleep by the horns that alerted drivers of their arrival. An out-of-town visitor once asked if I was irritated by the constant noise. “I couldn’t sleep with all that!” they proclaimed. For me, though, these sounds were just a part of my life, a part of me.

The impact of train transportation was never something I really thought about until it was no longer a part of my life. After revisiting my home state of Illinois, I’ve realized that there is a void in Volusia County that can be filled with better public transportation.

I grew up in a small town called Franklin Park, an old freight hub with several different rails running throughout the town. We even had a yearly festival called “Railroad Daze” to commemorate our history of train transportation. Being that Franklin Park is less than fifteen miles from the Chicago city limits, my family would regularly drive into the city to see family, go shopping, or visit a favorite restaurant. I was no stranger to the outskirts of the city. But Downtown Chicago was a special treat for me. The big, looming skyscrapers, the constant movement and noise, and the river that flowed through its heart were all elements that made it feel so magical. Strangely enough, what made these days extra special to me was my access to public transportation. The Metra train, in my mind, was the initiator of these memorable days.

My parents, my sister, and I would walk to the train station together. In the pre-smartphone days, Dad would buy our tickets at the counter while Mom tried to keep us unruly girls in sight. With tickets in hand, we would make our way to the platform and wait for the glorious wail of our oncoming conveyance. The train would make its stop and together we would board. My sister and I would always opt for the top row of seats because we enjoyed the view. The next thirty or so minutes would be filled with local sightseeing. Through our neighboring suburban towns, we would point out where friends lived, stores we like to visit, the old Mars chocolate factory, and every other familiar building we could think of. It was like a shift in the air when we would finally enter the city, though. Our excitement rose, and we knew that our next stop, our final stop, would begin the excursion we had planned. We would end our journey at Chicago Union Station, the transportation mecca.

After disembarking, I would take a look at the giant vessels that surrounded us. In my more existential days, I would begin to ponder the lives of all the other people in the station with me. I knew what my day had in store, but what for them? The trains linked all of us to this one, united stop before we went our separate ways. We would then leave Union Station to begin our real adventure: musicals, museums, boat tours, and enough culture to fill a lifetime. These independent expeditions all hold their own unique memories that I could write about for days, but they were always unified with a trip on the train.

Truth be told, until I was a teenager, I didn’t even know it was possible to drive into the city. The trains, busses, and subways seemed like the most logical and obvious transportation choices. When I was older, we drove downtown a few times, but I still preferred public transportation. I’m still unsure if it’s the nostalgia attached to the train rides or if it was just more practical, but my preference was and is clear. Because of this, moving to Deland, Florida was a huge culture shock for me. Moving from a town that was centered around train transportation to one that has only one track rolling through the back of the town was strange.

At first, there was a bit of excitement; no more getting held up by stopped commuter trains or freight trains that run miles long (a problem that afforded me many tardy slips in middle school)! But this one convenience came at a surprisingly large cost. My reliance on public transportation delayed my desire to learn how to drive. In Deland, I could no longer lean on a regular bus schedule or flow of Ubers and taxis. I was cornered into an activity that still causes major anxiety for me and forced me to spend money I really didn’t have on a car. As much as a disadvantage this is to me, it is also a great privilege that I am able to have. According to 2020 Census data, around 6% of Floridians do not own a vehicle. That leaves over 1.2 million citizens without primary means of transportation. While some may be able to rely on others to give them rides or have access to ride-sharing applications, many of these citizens would benefit from a better public transportation system in Florida - one that includes trains.

Nostalgia aside, I really do love trains. A few years ago I even opted to take an Amtrak for three and a half days from Orlando to Seattle, Washington. I asked my mother to recall her days spent on the train to her downtown job and she recalled how nice it was to get to work without worrying so much about traffic or accidents. She said, “I loved having half an hour of calm to myself to prepare for my day.”

It is my sincere hope that one day Florida, and other states across the U.S., will opt for better rail systems for their citizens. Until then, we should all do what we can to take advantage of the trains that are available to us now. If you haven’t, try taking the SunRail from Winter Park to Orlando! Or even try an Amtrak to Miami for a weekend. Trains are a special part of our history in America that we can’t let ride away.