Although for years the celebration moved around the calendar a bit more than in the past and was therefore somewhat difficult to track down (no pun intended), today -- we are full of joy to announce -- once again is that most grand fest, National Train Day.  At least it is here at Elisberg Industries, and that's good enough as a starting point.  You won't find it on any calendars for any number of reasons, but the most important is that since Amtrak funding got cut back they stopped promoting it after 2016.

(And the reason for it moving around the calendar is that it was never a set day, but the Saturday closest to May 10.  Why May 10, I hear you cry?  Because that's the anniversary of the Golden Spike being driven in at Promontory Point, Utah, to complete the building of the Transcontinental Railroad.)

But whether or not it remains an officially promoted holiday by the government -- and isn't being celebrated here on a proper Saturday due to prior commitments, think of it as the train running behind schedule -- National Train Day (or as it used to be known around these parts once upon a time as "Let's Make Chris Dunn's Head Explode Day," but no more since he now, at long last, acknowledges Bridge on the River Kwai as a train movie) is nonetheless still one of the most joyous holidays of the year. ​

​For our part here, we celebrate National Train Day on these pages by posting a list of the greatest train movies.  These are films in which trains are absolutely central to the story.  Where a train is the driving force of the tale, without which you can’t properly describe the plot.

(Think of it like the classic and beloved Santa Claus song, "Santa Claus is Coming to Town."  Santa Claus doesn't actually appear in the song at all.  He hasn't even shown up yet.  In most ways, it's about "you" and what you should do -- or better not do.  But even though there's not a hint of Santa Claus even appearing in the song, without Santa Claus...there's no song.)

We're strict about this.  A friend once recommended The Taking of Pelham-1-2-3, and it was strongly considered, but that was a subway train or light rail.  This list is for full-bore trains, the kind that either have sleeping cars and dining cars, or could if they were hitched on.  But I've added it to our Honorable Mentions category.  And strict, too, is that the list is for feature films only.  Yes, I could have included TV movies and series, but I don't.  It's just where I chose to draw the line.  But that's why I created the Special Mentions category.

Since the list is fluid, we keep adding to it. And so we have an addition this year.  It's Terror on a Train from 1953, with Glenn Ford as an army bomb disposal expert.  No, it's not close to being one of the all-time greats, but it's fun.

As I noted, there are two other categories added a few years back:  Honorable Mention is for movies which you can generally tell their stories without using the word "train," but they have some connection to trains -- usually a great, standout train sequence, supportive to the story, but not essential in telling the plot -- that makes them memorable.  And later, I added a category of Special Mention, for works that don't qualify as a train movie or perhaps even as a movie at all, but deserve a place of honor. 

This year, I've included two new Honorable Mentions -- The first is Some Like It Hot.  It's not remotely a train movie, but has one of the more famous train scenes in a movie comedy.  And second, we have Berlin Express, made in 1948, a story of post-World War II German subversives. Though the title suggests this is a pure train movie, most of it takes place off the train in the city.

And as I noted in the past, though something I think is likely very obvious, I love train movies.  Here is the current list of Great Train Movies.

3:10 to Yuma
Around the World in 80 Days
Back to the Future 3
Bridge on the River Kwai
Bullet Train
The Commuter
The Darjeeling Limited
Emperor of the North
The 5:17 to Paris
The General
The Girl on the Train
The Great Locomotive Chase
The Great Train Robbery
The Lady Vanishes
Murder in the Private Car
Murder on the Orient Express (1974)
The Narrow Margin
North by Northwest
Northwest Frontier
Night Train to Munich
Polar Express
Runaway Train
Shanghai Express
Silver Streak
Snowpiercer
Source Code
Strangers on a Train
Terror on a Train
Tough Guys
The Train
Transsiberian
Twentieth Century
Union Pacific
Union Station
Unstoppable
Von Ryan’s Express
 
Honorable Mention
At the Circus
Berlin Express 
Cat Ballou
Go West
The Greatest Show on Earth
Murder on the Orient Express (2017 remake)
Planes, Trains and Automobiles
Some Like It Hot
Throw Momma from the Train 
Trading Places

 
Special Mention
The Railrodder (short)
The Taking of Pelham-1-2-3 (light-rail subway trains)
Murder on the Orient Express (TV version, from the series Poirot)
Great Railway Journeys of the World (TV documentary)
Nothing Like It in the World by Stephen Ambrose (book) 
Empire Express: Building the First Transcontinental Railroad by David Haward Bain (book) 

I've also added another new feature in recent years -- a scene from one of the Great Train Movies, or another entry on the list.  And this year we have a critical scene from the wonderful movie The Lady Vanishes, directed by Alfred Hitchcock.  The scene features Margaret Lockwood, with a brief appearance by the joyous and (as you'll note) deeply important to the plot, Dame May Witty as 'Miss Froy.'
​

This past Wednesday, Chris Hayes did a terrific story on his MSNBC show about one of the lesser-discussed and major problems caused by Trump's actions, enabled by the MAGOPs in Congress.  And that's tourism.

His point was that, although tourism might seem like a small issue, it's actually the economic area where the United States not only has a surplus, but the one area that has always run a surplus, and a big surplus.  It's money that all goes one way, into the U.S.  Billions of dollars.  And not just money for coming into the country, but for hotels, renting cars, taking trains and buses, tickets for shows and entertainments, buying food, getting souvenirs and more.  And further, and perhaps most importantly, it creates jobs.  Huge numbers of jobs.

And it's cratering, thanks to Trump.

Imagine now, as the report starts out, how this could impact international visitors coming to the the U.S. for the 2028 Olympics.  Or not comings.  For that matter, which the segment doesn't touch on, who knows what conditions will be then and if any democratic countries refuse to even send their Olympics teams.  (I don't think it will come to that, but I don't know with absolute certainty, and it's a question that can't not​ be asked.)

On the Lockheed Martin website, they describe Trump's push for the Pentagon to develop a "Golden Dome" (Trump's version of the failed "Star Wars Defense Initiative" that Ronald Reagan tried) as the "Golden Dome stands as an impenetrable shield, safeguarding the American homeland with unwavering precision." 

There's no way of knowing yet if this effort will be successful, or as foolhardy and wasteful as Reagan's attempt.  The one thing we do have an idea about, though, since we're already seeing the first results, is that Trump is  doing a great job even without any technology creating an invisible force shield keeping other people from around the world out.  And not just minorities from his self-proclaimed "sh*thole countries," but everyone.

​Rather than me describe the segment more, it's best to turn these pages over to Chris Hayes, and let him dive deep into it.

And now, a brief musical interlude from shore to Dinah Shore...

​At the time, I was a little sorry that the poster had as many years as "16."  Little did I know how paltry that number would be.

A couple of fun tidbits about that first production in 1952.  One of the actors in the play was Richard Attenborough, who of course went on to great fame as an actor (in such movies as The Great Escape and Jurassic Park), but even greater fame as a director, winning an Oscar for Gandhi.

And also, when Agatha Christie signed a contract to give away the movie rights, it was under the condition that no movie of it would be made until after the play closed.  That was 72 years ago.  So far...

As I wrote previously, the Swiss Travel Board has put out a series of long ads the past few years that are pretty amusing.  They each star Swiss tennis star Roger Federer, along with another celebrity he’s supposedly got to join him, and I’ll post the best of them. 
 
The first I posted was with Trevor Noah here.  

The second was this with Federer and Anne Hathaway
 
Finally, completing the trilogy, here’s one with Federer and Robert De Niro.
​

Yesterday, England defeated the Netherlands in soccer (or football, or whatever you want to call it) and made it to finals of the World Cup, which will be played on Sunday.  This is a huge deal for the country which is one of the more soccer-crazed countries in the world, which is saying a lot.  So, I thought in its honor, I'd post this article that I've posted several times in the past, originally 10 years ago in 2024.  It's about when I was just a wee kidling on a family trip, and we somehow got tickets -- and truly amazing tickets -- to the opening game of the 1966 World Cup...which was the last time England won the World Cup.  But that's only part of the tale, and not even the most remarkable part.  Which is why I call it --

​

Now that the World Cup has started, and the United States has come up with a miracle victory, I thought this would be a good time to tell the story of not only one of the greatest, unknown World Cup miracles, but one of the all-time great sports miracles, period.

It's how my family and I got to see the World Cup in London, 1966,

And I'm serious.

Okay, no, it's not the upstart United States hockey team beating the Soviet steamrollers.  Or the unknown Roulon Gardner defeating the unbeaten, invincible legend Alexander Karelin.  It's not Kirk Gibson hitting a home run on one leg, or Doug Flutie's Hail Mary.  But those are more remarkable physical achievements by talented athletic.  This was an act of otherworldly intervention.

When I was but a wee kidling, my family took a summer trip to Europe.  One of our stops was London, where as fate would have it, the British were hosting the World Cup that year.  As maniacal as we know the rest of the world is over soccer, England might be the home of soccer insanity.  In a land known for tradition, soccer riots are de rigeur there.  If you're not rioting, you're not trying.

Nonetheless, my dad thought it would fun to see a World Cup match.  (Note:  The concept of it being "fun" to see a World Cup match is not relatable for most soccer fans, most especially those who are the aforementioned British.  "Fun" is a nice get together for tea, or taking your dog for walkies.  Being able to see a World Cup match in England is closer to being life-affirming.)  And so, uncaring of the obstacles, my dad found out how to apply to the world lottery being held to get tickets   He sent in his form and enclosed his check, and then went on with his life.  Meanwhile, throughout England there was national prayer held nightly in homes throughout the country, if only the Almighty would grant them a ticket.

We got four tickets.  

But that's not the story, it's not even close to the miracle.  It's just the heavens warming up.  Because, you see, we just get four tickets to the World Cup, we got them for...the Opening Match!  Which would be filled with grand celebration and royalty.  But thing is -- that's not the story, either.  Because, again you see, featured in the Opening Match of World Cup 1968 was a team that it was likely British fans -- so knowledgeable of all the great teams in the world -- would dearly would love to see.

That team was England.

Yes, that's right.  By just randomly sending in to the worldwide lottery, we got four tickets to the Opening Match of the World Cup between England and Uruguay, held in London at Wembley Stadium.  And here's the thing:  no, that's not the sports miracle, either.

I should note that we were very happy to get the tickets.  Not "mad-crazy-happy, my life has been made whole" like anyone in England would have been to get those four tickets, but certainly happy.  But happy as in, boy, this will be fun.  I mean, to be honest, one has to put this in perspective.  Wembley Stadium is huge, after all.  It seats 90.000 people, which is 80,000 more than the town, Glencoe, we lived in.  So, the chances of seeing the match very well were small.  And not being mad-crazy soccer fanatics, not being able to see the game very well in the nosebleed section would certainly lessen the majesty of the moment.  But still, that didn't matter all that much, since I was pretty young and didn't know the rules of soccer all that well.  (I can't speak for the rest of my family, though I suspect I knew more than my mother.  You kick the ball and hope it goes in the net.)  But just being there in the massive crowd, somewhere, anywhere, amid all the excitement, that would be cool.  Just to be able to say we were there.  Wherever "there" was.

Where "there" was turned out to be -- okay, are you ready:  mid-field, center line, halfway up, directly across the field from where the Queen of England was sitting in the Royal Box.

Okay, that's the sports miracle.

Let me repeat.  With the entire world of sports fanatics converging on London, England, for the World Cup, we got four tickets to the Opening Match in which the host country England was playing, seated at midfield halfway up Wembley Stadium across from the Queen of England.

Seriously.  

And to be clear, this isn't the fuzzy memory of a little kid recalling things far better than they actually were.  Exaggerating for posterity.  No, I have photographic evidence.  

I took pictures.

(Sorry for the guy's head.  I wasn't great at composition at that age.)

Look directly across the field.  Do you see that "box" just below the horizontal white line, marking the upper level?  That's where the Royal Family is sitting.  Directly opposite us.  If you look closely, I believe that Queen Elizabeth is waving at you.

I told you I wasn't lying.

It was pretty remarkable.  As I said to my dad just a couple days ago, reminding of the story, if he had decided to sell these tickets it would have paid for the entire trip.  "And," he added, "your college education.  And your brother's." 

The crowd, the ceremony, the excitement, the game, it was great.  Memorable to one's bones.  Absolutely wonderful, historic.  There was only one disappointing thing about the match.  Ever since I knew we had the tickets, one of the things I was looking forward to seeing was England score a goal amid that maniacal crowd going soul-bursting wild for the home team.  (Even at that age, I grasped the concept of such drama.)  And the final score of the game between England and Uruguay was...0-0.

Zippo.  Or as the soccer folks like to say, "Nil."  Or more accurately, nil to nil.

(More action photos from the collection of photo-journalist Robert J. Elisberg.  Notice the compositional improvement after many minutes of experience represented here by the lack of heads getting at least completely in the way.  Hey, when you're a little kid, people are bigger than you are.)

So, no bursting of massive cheers by the heart-loyal English crowd at the site of the goal for their beloved home team.  No cheers over a goal from anyone.  On the good side, at least we weren't there to see England lose.  In fact, just so you know, the zero goals were not the result of a mediocre team.  Indeed, host England went on to win the world championship.  They just didn't choose to get any goals that particular day.

Hey, that's the way some miracles go.  Sometimes, the fates decide to put the miracle in perspective.  After all, you shouldn't take the good and miracle for granted.

But a dozen years before Al Michaels asked the question of sports fans at the Lake Placid Olympics, I had already been able to answer the sports question.  Yes, I do believe in miracles.

When I next get together with the Queen, I'm sure we'll swap tales of that day.  No doubt it wasn't as much a sports miracle for her -- I'm sure she had an in, or went to a scalper -- but it was nonetheless quite a day of national pomp and circumstance, so I'm sure she had to have written about it in her journal.  For all I know, she's got snapshots of me in return.

When talking with my dad about this the other day, he noted one other thing.  "How did I get those seats??"

It was a miracle, dad.  The greatest sports miracle ever.  At least to some people.