On Fridays, the Smiths and Blooms eat at the Red Trolley Diner; they have done so as long as Roderick can remember. And so, on this lovely Friday evening in June, the Smiths and Blooms gathered at the long table in the back of the trolley -- where young people used to sit and neck on the return trip from Stapleton, when the Beauneville Electric Railway was the best way to get to the movie theater on a Friday night.
If you know where to look, you can see artifacts of the trolleys here and there around Beauneville. There is the Red Trolley Diner, of course, which stands just off Railroad Avenue across from Beauneville Park. On the last day of operations in 1933, when the electric company cut off the power, Mr. Vanderbilt made one last trip back from Stapleton in Car #1, parked on the siding off Railroad Avenue, and walked away. His company out of business, Mr. Vanderbilt sold off the rails and planned to sell Car #1, but he could find no buyers as there were no rails remaining by which it could be moved. In an interview for the Beauneville Bugle, Mr. Vanderbilt admitted that perhaps it would have been wiser to sell the car first, then sell the rails. "Oh well", he chuckled, "that's the way the cookie crumbles".
For many years, Mr. Vanderbilt took care of Car #1. He refreshed the shiny red paint, polished the brass fittings and dusted the seats as if for another run. Roderick's Dad remembers, as a young boy, that his Dad would bring him to see the trolley; they would sit on the soft brown leather seats, and Mr. Vanderbilt would let him ring the bell. By this time, he was quite up in years, but everyone in town could see how he loved that trolley.
One morning, Mr. Vanderbilt did not show up to polish the trolley. Mr. Rockefeller, who owned the gas station across the street (now called Mr. Smiley's Gas Station) was the first to notice, and by early afternoon everyone in town was concerned about Mr. Vanderbilt's health. Officer Grady went to Mr. Vanderbilt's house on Fairmont Avenue (a few doors down from Mr. Bartram), but could find no trace of him.
We all found out later that Mr. Vanderbilt had left for Las Vegas with a young floozie. Mr. Blackstone, the town attorney, received a letter instructing him to liquidate Mr. Vanderbilt's assets, which consisted of one trolley and a small parcel of land upon which said trolley rested. (The house on Fairmont was rented). In the subsequent auction, there was a single bidder for the trolley, a nameless person who paid with a suitcase of cash. Mr. Nameless installed tables in the trolley, built a kitchen and an extra room for seating, and opened for business as the Red Trolley Diner.
We will learn more about the Red Trolley Diner in later chapters, but for now suffice to say that on this lovely June evening, Roderick Smith sat at the long table in the back of the diner with his mom and dad, Mr. and Mrs. Bloom, Molly, Mary, Margaret and Catherine. Roderick ordered a lovely sausage, with smashed potatoes and little green things, and Blueberry Fluffle for dessert. He sat across from Molly, and while everyone chatted and laughed, he secretly noodged her foot with his; Molly returned the noodge, and smiled.
