Monday, July 10 1944
I’m an old hand now at train travel. The car was filled with servicemen and women but a few of them crowded together so my mother could make a little nest of blankets for me. I slept pretty all the way to Pennsylvania Station. Then mom had to wrangle me, the stroller, and a few suitcases across Manhattan to Grand Central Station where we boarded the train for Bridgeport, Connecticut. All the time my father was driving us to the train station this morning, he was singing a funny song about something called a Chattanooga Choo Choo. I hope I see one someday.