Atlantic, Iowa
Atlantic is the “Coca-Cola Capital of Iowa.”
I am told this at midnight on a rural train platform in Nebraska where the Amtrak conductor has stopped to stretch his legs. We are a backpacker, a teacher, an old man, a Nebraskan, two Mormons, and a Coca-Cola collector sharing a cigarette. An hour ago we were a backpacker, teacher, old man, Nebraskan, two Mormons, and a Coca-Cola collector listening to a basketball game on the observation-car radio.
The Collector tells us that Atlantic’s annual Coca-Cola Days celebration is the second-largest in the nation, behind Atlanta. He attends every year from Boston. His collection is mostly Coca-Cola lunchboxes.
“Why lunchboxes?”
He doesn’t know.
He tells us the name “Atlantic” was a coin-toss. The town sits halfway between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans and they flipped a coin to decide which name to take. Atlantic won (tails). In fact, he says, Atlantic is actually about three-hundred miles closer to the East Coast than the West.
We nod. The air is cold and the conductor is missing.