In Chicago's Union Station, amid the hurrying crowds, Marine veteran Alfred Wiley thrust magazines into the hands of his wife, handed candy bars to his two little sons. As he hoisted them aboard the Burlington's Advance Flyer, he kissed them all goodbye. At 12:35 p.m. the 13-car train pulled out.
In the outer yards, tower men set the switches for the Advance to roll onto the express track. Soon after, the nine-car Exposition Flyer wormed its scheduled way onto the same westward ribbon. The pair of silver streamliners whooshed along the flat Illinois...
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