I call him The Sentry. He’s the first person you walk past when you leave the parking garage. He’s at the westernmost point of the eastbound platform. He speaks to no one except me. We have known each other as well as two strangers can know each other for a long time and give each other signs at night for the early track # at Penn Station. He is the first person to see the train coming around the bend. He picks up his briefcase as soon as he sees the train. Standing near the east end of the eastbound I watch for The Sentry to pick up his briefcase because I know that I can count to three Mississippi’s and the train will pop into my view too and with that I close my Blackberry and step into position for the train doors. He’s my own personal early warning system. He’s The Sentry.