The Platform People: Finding Connection Between Train Stops

Since I started commuting by train to the city for work, I’ve come to recognize the same faces day after day. Some nod, some smile, some stay to themselves — but over time, I began to think of them as extended coworkers. We don't work for the same company, but we share a routine, a rhythm, and an unspoken understanding that we’re in this together.

There's a woman who used to sit with me — she’s retired now, but back then, she would do most of the talking, and I was fine with that. I’d bring things to show her — 3D printed projects, little tech experiments — and she always appreciated them. It made our conversations easier, more natural.

Through her, I met a guy who rides a bike. His train stop is just a few minutes away, but in that short window, he always makes the effort to check in. That says something.

Then there’s a gentleman who works for Comcast. One day, we just happened to stand near each other and struck up a conversation. Now it’s become a ritual — a few minutes of small talk while we wait for the train. Familiar, easy.

Even the people I don’t talk to often — like the woman who waits near me on the evening platform — still matter. We don’t say much, but we always share a wave, a smile, and an occasional exchange when the train is late. That’s enough to feel connected.

And I still think about the woman I used to chat with when I took a later morning train. Her husband rides motorcycles, and that was our opening. She gave me tips on local farmer’s markets, places to take Monica and her mom. She’s someone I didn’t know for long, but I’m glad I got to know her at all.

Final Thoughts
It’s funny how strangers become familiar. How a smile or nod, repeated day after day, can mean something. These aren’t long conversations or lifelong friendships — but they are connections. Quiet ones. Real ones. The kind that make the world feel just a little less lonely between stops.