There were only two seats left on the TRAX platform this time and the seats were separated from each other by a gorgeous black man.  Hubby took the closer seat as I walked past the man to sit on his other side next to a dyed-red-headed woman.  She was about as tall as me and about my age but wore her age very hard.  She hadn't had an easy life.  She was beautifully tattooed across her chest and her eyes hinted of humor and life knowledge.   Just as I was bending into a sitting position, red-headed lady jumped up and said what I thought was, "is that your bag?"
I looked at the black man and indeed there was a backpack on the seat with him, just to his side which would be next to me also... but pretty obviously his.
  I answered the lady by saying, "no, it's not mine".
 "Oh, ok" she answered and she sat back down.
 But as I thought for a moment I began to realize maybe she wasn't talking about the bag, because it didn't fit why she had jumped up so quickly and then just sat back down.
 So, I finally ask her, "Did you ask me if that bag was mine?"
 She said, "oh no, I ask if that man was yours.  I figured you wanted to sit by him", as she pointed out my hubby.
     "Oh"  I laughed.  "He is mine but I don't need to sit by him. Sometimes it is just nice to not have to sit together but thanks so much for going to give up your sit for me".
Then we started to talk and laugh.  We talked about our jobs and that we were both heading home and yes, we were tired!

    Well, we all got on the train together and she ended up right across the aisle from hubby and I.  I said to hubby, "this nice lady was going to give up her seat so I could sit by you."  and we all introduced each other. 

 Hubby asks his favorite question, "where are you originally from?"

She answers "New Jersey" and hubby just had to ask next:

 "and what brought you to Salt Lake City?"

    "Oh, dear", she said, "you had to ask".
"Well it's ok if you don't want to say", says hubby.
"No, I'll tell you" she begins but no longer does she talk with the happy-lighthearted lilt in her voice.
"One day", she quickly throws out, "there was a very bad accident and my husband and four children were killed.  I had a boy 9 yrs. old, a girl 7, another girl 3 and a baby boy of  18 months.  All killed." 
   She had been talking to her lap but then she looked up at hubby and said, "I got in my car and decided I was going to go to California no matter what.  I drove and drove and my car broke down here in Salt Lake.  I had to get a job to pay of the car bill and I have been here ever since."

Hubby and I just sat and stared for like an eternity at her.

 She continues, "I work any job I can get, I'm not like other people who say they won't work unless they get twenty bucks and hour, I will even work for ten bucks an hour.  I clean houses.  But today I even held a picket sign for two hours in front of a Maverick Store for a lady who paid me $20.00.  I've had some bad times but they were my own fault.  No one else is to blame."
She added this bit on to the end of the story and my hubby looks at her closely, puts his hands on his knees, leans in to her and asks, "Trouble with drinking?"
She nods a yes like she hasn't been able to verbalize it too much yet.  Then she falls silent for a moment.

"But, I'm over that now and I will work doing anything."  She says, "I'm 54 and I've been in Salt Lake for 27 years.  Half my life here so it's my home and my neighbors are my best friends.  Immediately she was back up to happy again and we laughingly talked about the picket line she walked on that day until we had to part.

   This is one passenger I really want to see again.  I miss her.