Thirty eight years ago today, August 1, 1976, I began the day watching a pair of GG1s and a deadheading RS11 roll a westbound freight past my hotel room in Elizabeth, N.J., just after sunup. Any day that starts like that has got to be a good one. And it was.
As for the hotel, the Lord Stirling, with its apartment-style, kitchen-equipped suites was one of my favourite Jersey haunts. However, a few years later, I would learn that the place might not have the same appeal to a new bride. That's another story.