People on the Train: Part II

The Union Station in Los Angeles opened in May of 1939. It combines Dutch Colonial Revival, Mission Revival and Streamline Moderne styles of architecture. Though it is smaller that other Union Stations around the country, it is considered the “Last of the Great Railway Stations.” Because of its proximity to Hollywood, it has been used as a backdrop for a number of films and television shows. It is on this canvas that we first  observe an extremely unique person.

Gerrie and I had been sitting in two old chairs in the larger terminal hall for the better part of an hour. As the time to board our train approached, we gathered our luggage and moved closer to the hallway leading to the platforms. A few chairs were available so we took a seat to wait. 

     “We saw a very colorful fellow yesterday while waiting at the Los Angeles Union Station. He was dressed in simple shoes and very colorful socks; brightly colored flowers against a black background. He wore a rust colored trouser with the legs neatly rolled up to mid-calf. His shirt was a tight fitting black and white stripe. Though he wore a belt, he had thin black suspenders attached to the belt.

     “On on belt loop he had attached a wooden slingshot and on another was a change purse. On his head he wore a gray fedora with a red carnation. And from his ears dangled long feathered earrings; a black feather on one ear and a while one on the other.

     “He was dark complected - Italian perhaps - with black hair and a well-kept black beard. His mustache curled up at the ends.

     “He used his hands, whether he was counting out a few dollar bills or arranging his luggage, like he was a magician performing a slight-of-hand trick.

     “We have seen him twice on the train now; once in the dining care last night and again this morning in the lounge car. He is very outgoing and quite the conversationalist; eager to strike up a discussion with someone, anyone.

     “His name is Mo.

     “Mo and I talked a little this morning about art. He sketches from time to time and went back to his coach seat to bring me some of his work. It is interesting.

     “Mo lives in Albuquerque and he is going to the zoo there this afternoon to draw animals.

     “Mo added a clip on bow tie to his shirt today; a bow tie, a few buttons, and a small safety pin.

     “Mo is a gypsy!

     “If he isn’t, he should be.”

This was from my journal; an entry dated 04.24.12 @ 10:10 a.m. (MT).

I wish I had asked Mo if I could take his photograph. It is isn’t often that I run across a person who obviously has such a carefree zest for life. I would like to have had more of a remembrance of him.

Mo set across from us during dinner that first night on the train. He loved his wine and he loved the conversation. Whichever direction the talk took, he was quick on the trail. He was always so courteous in manners and in how each addressed each person at his table or serving his table. This is true of all his conversations I would imagine.

We saw one last time later that day. It was on the platform in Albuquerque. We were visiting with Gerrie’s sister and brother-in-law who had come out of meet us. Coming across the tracks was Mo. He was dressed as had been since the day before; coach doesn’t allow many changes in clothing I suppose. He had a bag thrown across his shoulder. With one hand he was pulling a suitcase with a Navajo pattern blanket tied to the handle with a length in cord. In his other hand he carried a shopping bag that held two pictures he bought from a street vendor in Los Angeles and a bright blue ukulele adorned with flowers. 

While on the train Mo gave me a postcard of the Union Station. On the back it had his name and address. It is on my desk now, along with a few other postcards, bookmarks, brochures and pamphlets from the journey. I think I’ll write him someday.

Back on the platform, I said farewell to Mo. I returned to visiting with my family. He was heading to the zoo to draw animals.