There’s my woe, which is admittedly not all that bad most weeks.

Then there’s real woe.

I took a train journey last week at the invitation of a dear friend. We looked forward to a few days of riding the rails, working on our manuscripts, visiting and catching up, and maybe even get a Voodoo donut in Portland after we arrived.

The trip didn’t exactly go according to our plan.

The first evening, we pushed the button for our steward to come and let down the bunk and get our beds ready.

It was almost like a scene from a Lucille Ball show. I pressed the button and immediately the train slowed and came to a stop. Unfortunately, there was nothing comedic going on.

We soon heard an announcement that the train would be delayed several hours while authorities were called to investigate a “trespassing incident.”

The next day we heard the gossip in the dining car.

Suicide.

Someone jumped in front of the train.

Someone forced a person who was doing his job–driving a train and taking its passengers to their destination–into killing.

Talk about both desperate and totally chicken.

My heart is saddened that someone felt so hopeless and helpless that death was preferable to life.

But  what a horrible legacy to leave behind, to force someone else to take your life.

The rest of the journey was fun and passed quickly, in spite of the shadow cast over the beginning.

Have you ever embarked on a journey that didn’t go the way you expected?