My dad was called to WW II in early 1943. My mother, though pregnant with me, was not going to be denied one last visit before he shipped out for unknown destinations. She and my grandmother boarded the train at Union Station in St. Louis, Mo., bound for Sedalia, Mo. It was standing room only so she and my grandmother took turns sitting on their luggage during the ride. That was my first and only train ride and it happened before I was born, but this is a story I've heard my entire life. My mother, though feeling miserable during the ride, never regretted that crowded, tiring trip. She made it and though I was born just a few months later. I would not meet my dad until three years later.