September 15th 1830

Today was the first day the Manchester-Liverpool rail line was open. Finally after years of waiting in anticipation I finally have a purpose in life. I was built a few years before in anticipation for this day, the day of all days. It was today that I was finally placed on the track. It was like allowing a cripple who spent his days either in bed, or in a rocking chair to walk again. To step out into the world and show them what he was made of. Today was that day for me.

The main thing I remember about that day was the earsplitting cheer from all around me. Thousands of humans had gathered to witness what most said as a historic event. There were famous people standing all around me, for example the Prime Minister, and the Duke of Wellington. They both were giving speeches, and making the people cheer even louder. There was nothing of great importance in those speeches, so instead I watched the ships in the port around me and listened to the water sloshing back and forth. There was one thing that sparked my attention above all else.

“This is the first rail line to connect to major cities, and these are the first trains to run on these tracks . . .” a deep man’s voice said. At that moment, I filled with more pride and joy than anyone else that day. I was one of the first trains to connect two major cities together.

Granted there were others like me around on the tracks, feeling the exact same way as I did. Their hearts also filling with the same pride and joy as mine did. However there was one thing that separated me from all the others. Along the way I didn’t crash, or derail. I was the first train to make it to Manchester.