2024 LIRR: Do my eyes deceive me?

For 30 years, I rode the Long Island Rail Road’s Babylon line between Bellmore and Penn Station, a 45-minute trip — in theory. Conservatively, that’s 90 minutes a day and 7.5 hours a week. Assuming 48 weeks, that’s 360 hours a year for a grand total of 10,800 hours over three decades, not including delays.

As a veteran commuter, I’ve experienced sardine-can-crowded cars, hot cars, broken seats, no seats, no air, signal troubles, broken rails and canceled trains. I’ve smelled smoke while stuck in the East River tunnel and survived 2017’s overcrowded “summer of Hell.”

Through these decades of commuting, I learned the exact spots on the platform where the doors open and just when to blow my nose to thwart an incoming passenger from squeezing into the empty middle seat. I’ve stood mystified listening to unintelligible announcements and earned my doctorate in expletives from never-ending rush hour cancellations (Hello, 1990s!). Although I wasn’t commuting during the “Mad Men” era of smoking cars -- banned in 1988 -- I do recall bar carts on the platforms and Penn Station without air conditioning.

I’m a hardened commuter.

In 2020, I retired and moved to Delaware. My husband and I visit Long Island often, by car. However, this past summer for a girls’ getaway to Fire Island, I decided to take the train. I boarded Amtrak’s Northeast Regional train in Wilmington, Delaware and detrained at Penn Station -- a very different Penn Station.

I found myself spinning around like Marlo Thomas in the opening credits of “That Girl,” eyeing all the shops and gleaming, clean passageways. Sunlight streaming. Airy breezes. Expanded concourses and corridors. Train information is everywhere, pillars sporting monitors at every turn.

While I had a few minutes before the train to Rockville Centre, I took the East End Gateway up to street level just to experience the awe-inspiring precision of the Empire State Building come into breathtaking view as the escalator climbed through the glass-and-steel canopied entrance. It’s dazzling.

On my return, while waiting on the platform in Rockville Centre, another observation: The digital platform screens not only show arrival time and destination, but seat availability! The solid green bar assured me I wouldn’t be standing on my way into Manhattan.

Back in Penn Station, I made a beeline for Moynihan Train Hall, not having had a chance to see it the other day. To paraphrase Elaine Benes of “Seinfeld” fame: I was speechless -- I was without speech. The sleek modern-day transportation hub made me feel like I was on vacation. The main concourse’s immense domed skylight ceiling is breathtaking. When I wasn’t looking up, I was glancing all around: shops, information displays and eateries — not just mediocre places to grab a bite, but destination restaurants. In the Food Hall, I popped into Magnolia Bakery and bought something yummy for my two-hour train ride south.

As I walked through Wilmington station, built in 1907, it looked small and sleepy and in need of a facelift. But it’s fine, it’s historic Wilmington.

New York, on the other hand, deserves a stunningly spectacular transportation hub. I’m thrilled to see it’s finally the Penn Station that Manhattan demands and Long Islanders deserve.

Reader Paula Ganzi McGloin now lives in Millsboro, Delaware.