It’s hard to appreciate how good your life is, until you see someone who has it much worse. This, year, I took a train trip, and I found out how lucky I am.

When my dad and I stepped on the Amtrak train, We expected a nice, quiet journey to Seattle. The train started moving, and we were on our way. After a few minutes, the stewardess came around and asked for dinner reservations. We chose the last time, hoping that the dining hall would be quieter. When it was time to dine, we left our room. As we later found out, if your party was small than four people, they sat you in a booth with other passengers on the train, people who you have not likely met. Our first meal, we sat with a nice couple who was traveling to Portland, Oregon for a vacation. They were fairly quiet, but very. The group of people who sat in the booth across the aisle, what much more talkative. After our meal, we got up, and spent the night in our room. The following morning, we got up early because breakfast was served at 6:30 local time. When we got to the dining car, we were sat in a booth. Within a few minutes, one of the talkative people from last night, was sitting with us. We began talking, and he seemed nice. He talked about his wife, as if she were a goddess, and over seemed like a nice person. When asked, he said that he and his wife were traveling to Portland because they couldn't get jobs where they were previously living, and decided that since they were making such a big change, to make it “in style” on Amtrak. After breakfast, we said our goodbyes and went back to our room. When lunch came around, we headed down to the dining car. We were seated, and sure enough, the man we were sitting with earlier and his wife, sat down with us. After a few minutes of conversation, my dad and I began learning of their struggles with obesity, problems with alcoholism, especially the wife, and complaints of the time between smoking brakes, his diagnosis with schizophrenia, his wealth he inherited, and then squandered, him being denied state compensation because his mental condition prohibited him from working, how the wife was put in charge of her dying parents, but her husband wanted to leave to go to Portland, and how she wanted to go back to college, but couldn't, how they had 8 kids, who they were having trouble caring for, and scores of other information, that a normal person would deem far to person to be discussed with anyone but close family, let alone a group of people who you have never met before on a train. Finally, we said our goodbyes yet again, and we went back to our room. Later that afternoon, we went to the observation car. We saw the “fun couple” again. This time though, they were practically shouting at each other, the wife, with a snarl on her face, daring her husband to hit her. They continued shouting at each other using language that would be very much condoned by the Catholic Church. Finally, the husband stormed off. The wife walked over to my dad and I and said, “I hope you don’t think I’m a monster or anything.” My dad replied, “ Oh not at all.” Around 3:30 local time, Amtrak had a wine and cheese tasting. Wine was served in very very small glasses. However, if you won the trivia contest, which was held during the wine and cheese tastings, then you got to keep the whole bottle. We were told, that the wife- who we later learned was named Amber- had been on a team with a few other people, and had all won the trivia contest. The other people on the team, took a glass each, and left Amber with at least part of a bottle. Unfortunately, she must have had some of that bottle, because by the time we saw her in the Observation car, she was incredibly drunk, and once again in a fight with her husband, both of whom were using language, that violates most people’s moral ethic. I believe that it was around western Montana, when we were allowed to step off of the train for a few minutes, when an announcement is made asking Amber (I forgot her last name) to come and “pick up” her husband. We later overheard a conversation with head conductor saying that Amber and her husband had been nothing but “loud, drunk, and fighting. It was not until Spokane, Washington, when the Empire Builder train is split into two pieces, one bound for Seattle, and the other bound for Portland, Oregon, that the train was rid of Amber and her husband.


Overall, I learned just how fortunate I am to live the life that I do. No matter how bad you think your life is, someone always has it off worse than you. I feel bad for Amber and her husband, because they will likely be divorced in a year or so unless they get their marriage back on track. I wish them the best.