THE 1964 WORLD'S FAIR IN NEW YORK

Paul had arranged a honeymoon cruise on Grace Line, the company he had once worked for.  He didn't like to fly so we took the train from Sarasota to New York.  In those long ago days the train station was downtown.  When the train roared into the station, we boarded, all set for our honeymoon adventure.  I got off the train in an unknown town and walked up and down the platform trying to get my sleeping leg to wake up.  As I strode along with a broad smile, the heel came off my left shoe and I fell down on the filthy platform (the stains on my homemade going away suit never came out.)  I looked around for my high heel and saw that it had fallen onto the tracks.  I then noticed a huge run in my nylons.  My big smile slowly faded as I limped along in my soiled suit and ruined stockings.  I saw Paul coming toward me with two cups of coffee and a stunned expression.  His pretty young bride looked like a homeless woman.  Paul helped me back onto the train (I had twisted my ankle) and when I was safely seated he handed me a cup of coffee and told me to be careful as it was very hot.  Exhausted from the wedding, I fell asleep within five minutes and the hot coffee poured into my lap.  I screamed so loud the porter came.  Chaos reigned.  Passengers handed me napkins, paper towels, hankies-- anything to stem the tide of coffee which was now dribbling down my legs onto the floor.

We arrived in New York many, many, many hours later.  Paul looked fresh as a daisy.  I, on the other hand, had wild hair, a filthy suit, a broken shoe, ruined stockings, a dirty face and a look of profound shock.  Paul's mother was speechless.  My new husband tried to make the best of it.  He brought forth a big, phony smile
and said, "We're all ready for the 1964 World's Fair!"

To Be Continued