Remembering the Nation’s Last Private Railroad Commuter Car

By David A. F. Sweet Club cars flourished on the rails in the middle of the 20^th century. Sometimes featuring wood paneling and nearly always boasting a bar, the private havens provided a civilized way to commute to and from work in Chicago and on the East Coast. Briefcases were shut and work was forgotten as bridge games, rather than a quest for profit, engrossed members. Alas, the cars have vanished. The last one rolled on the rails between Lake Bluff and Ogilvie Station in Chicago. I was fortunate enough to ride on it for a few years before its demise.

A 2016 refurbishment brought new carpeting and more to Car 553. The 7 a.m. journey south could be quiet, with the taps of fingers on laptop keyboards and the rustle of newspapers the only sounds. The journey home was often far more jovial, since members were armed with beverages and ready to talk about sports, politics and anything else worthy of commentary. The car’s origins can be traced to 1929, about seven months before the stock market crashed. At launch, it was called The Deerpath. More than four dozen luxurious chairs were lined up by the windows and faced each other. A private porter roamed the aisle. According to the History Center of Lake Forest-Lake Bluff, the man “dispensed service in a specially designed kitchen and buffet. He stayed with the car during the day to receive packages for the riders.” A list of the early members constituted a who’s who of Chicago’s business leaders. It included Albert B. Dick Jr., Stanley Field, Solomon Smith and four members of the Armour family. A new car, christened Car 553, arrived in 1949. It even included a barber’s chair. Rule No. 1 of the manifesto from the car’s 1967 booklet shows those in charge did not take themselves too seriously. “The management of the myriad affairs of Car 553 shall be in the hands of The Committee, which shall be composed of seven members who are self-elected and self-perpetuating until thrown out of office,” it reads. “Salaries will match performance.” Rule No. 2 was just as insouciant. “The Committee may appoint a Secretary-Treasurer, not necessarily a member of The Committee, to serve until subpoenaed.”

Names of members and their Chicago business addresses were listed inside -- along with the insouciant rules. In Car 553’s final iteration in the 21^st century, members – now including women -- mainly boarded in Lake Bluff, Lake Forest and Winnetka. Often they would need to stroll through the moving train before reaching the green door of the private car. The occasional confused rider who would come through that door would be asked politely to leave or, if a seemingly good fit, recruited for membership. By 2016, Car 553 was the only operating commuter membership car on the tracks in the United States. That year, a $100,000 refurbishment brought new carpeting, a refrigerator and the green-and-yellow paint of Chicago & North Western trains gone by to the exterior. Comfortable maroon armchairs filled the main section of the car. Framed drawings graced the walls, and work could be done at four tables. A private bathroom was available. Never being subjected to loud boarding announcements meant a peaceful atmosphere but also the occasional missed stop. But when they timed it right, members would occasionally hop off early to gather for drinks and dinner at restaurants in Glencoe and Highwood. It's no surprise that maintenance issues often afflicted the aging car, causing Union Pacific Railroad to pull it from the tracks for repairs a number of times each year, with costs borne by the members (it was said the railroad company was no fan of having to put on and take off one special car each weekday). Already hard to make expenses meet with three dozen or so members paying less than $4,000 a year apiece, once the pandemic hit, Car 553’s run would soon be over. Perhaps one day, a private commuter car can rejoin the rails to transport those looking to succeed in the city in the tranquil way they enjoyed for almost a century. This story was first published in Classic Chicago magazine.