Our trip started with our wonderful son Jonathan driving us to the nearest train station in Orange, NJ. We had allowed ourselves ample time to
We were saying fond good byes to Jonathan when, suddenly, the train came. Quick -- pick up all the luggage, and trundle up the stairs! Whew...
Ten or 15 minutes later, I looked around and started counting the pieces of luggage we brought: my suitcase, Bill's, the duffel bag... WAIT. Where is my backpack????!!! The one I was not going to let off my person because it had our passports in it????
A frantic phone call to Jonathan, who was just arriving back home, a call to the NJ Transit Police, jumping off the train, waiting for Jonathan to drive back to Orange. Visions of the backpack being gone, along with the passports, and our entire vacation...
The call back from Jonathan -- it was still sitting there on the bench (you can see it behind me in the photo), then waiting for Jonathan to come rescue us in Newark and drive us across the city to pick up another train at Penn Station Newark. So much for our leisurely trip across New York City . . .
Long story short: we made our plane.

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