What I learned on the 27

This is not a totem pole.

Douglass Truth Soul Pole
The Douglass-Truth “Soul Pole”

I never really looked at this library landmark (despite the kajillion times I have walked and ridden past it) until a late-evening bus conversation with a history-loving fellow native of the 2-0-sickness. After I explained the origins of Chicklet’s name, he decided we were kindred spirits and so proceeded to school me about–among other things–the history and meaning of this particular work of art.

Soul Pole dedication
“The First 400 Years”

I am grateful that he took the time to talk to me. I am also, as ever, grateful for the bus–and for the many opportunities it provides for me to form deeper connections to my community.

Happy last day of Black History Month, ya’ll.

Buses are for everyone, part II

A self-described LA “snob,” recently lost her job and found herself unable to afford her car lease. Instead of trading down for something cheaper, she decided–for the first time in her life–to give Metro a try. The result? She’s not 100% sold on car-freedom (not surprising in sprawling, car-dependent SoCal), but she’s definitely diggin’ the ride. From the LA Times (via: Erin):

“I felt like I was too good for the bus,” said [Jacquelyn] Carr, recalling her virgin voyage last October with a mixture of embarrassment and marvel. “I think there’s a social understanding and a construction around that if you take the bus, you take it because you don’t have money. There’s a social standard. Obviously I had bought into that.”

[…]

Despite [the drawbacks], Carr says it feels good to take the bus. She’s saving money that would have been going to her car: about $450 a month on gas, insurance and car payments, not to mention oil changes and tuneups. She also feels she’s helping the environment — and the bus gives her a front-row seat in a city she missed when she was driving and focused on traffic.

“This feels different, this looks different,” said Carr, who has a quick grin, long, brown hair and a penchant for bright-colored clothes and big sunglasses. “When you drive through the streets of L.A., you’re not looking around, talking to people.”

I find it fascinating how many people–no matter their initial motivation for trying it–get hooked on the bus for essentially the same reasons. “Adventure” is a recurring theme, even (actually, especially) among people who were initially intimidated by PT. (You can read about Jacquelyn’s bus adventures on her blog, Snob on a Bus.)

And, of course, there’s nothing like the hope of finding bus luh to add a little shine to the ride.

But despite the aches and inconveniences, Carr still believes in her bus dreams — meeting new people and perhaps even finding that special someone.

She might be on her way.

“My bag matches your jacket,” a young man named Peter told her on the 720.

They talked about how bad the television station is on the bus and where they each came from and went to school. At one point, they both got out of their seats for other people.

Then came Carr’s stop.

“Do you ride the bus often?” Peter asked.

“Every day,” Carr said, before walking away. “Every day, my friend.”

Indeed.

Catching up (a little)

While I’ve been focused on learning to fold an umbrella stroller with a baby on my chest, a bag on my shoulder, and a two-year old in my grasp (more on that in a future post), the transit world has continued to turn–sometimes around unpleasant corners.

I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch the video of the tunnel beating, but I’ve been paying attention to the discussion. It feels very close to home and very threatening, both because the victim turned out to be the cousin of a family friend, and because it happened on the heels of the assault I recently witnessed on the 4. I’ve never felt that the tunnel was particularly safe,* but that was mostly because of the stairwells and other areas where it would be easy to corner someone. I certainly didn’t think that a major assault could happen on the platform, in front of several witnesses.** Then again, that’s what I said last month.

On a happier note, Clarence from Streetfilms paid a visit to our fair city earlier this month. He came to check out Link and has posted some cool videos from his trip (including one of him biking with Mayor MCGinn) on the Streetfilms site.

More catching up to come.

UPDATE, 3/4: The Link video’s up.

* For me, stops and stations have always felt much less safe than buses–for a variety of reasons.

In this case, they were witnesses who were paid to prevent such an assault from happening–or so we thought. Now, of course, there’s an outcry about the quality of tunnel security and transit security in general. (We’ll see what happens with the new contractor.) Lord knows I want buses to be safe (and how!) but as far as I know, no one’s offering up additional sources of funding.

Watch this!

On Monday, 2/8, PBS will debut a cool documentary.

Blueprint America: Beyond the Motor City.

[The film] examines how Detroit–battered by the fallout of the automotive industry, and a bleak example of the social/economic failures that occur from having a transportation system that relies so heavily on private automobiles as the primary mode of mobility–may actually lead the way in transforming how the country gets around using public transportation that runs on clean energy.

It airs in Seattle at 10 PM. Check out this clip.

I had the pleasure of watching a preview copy of the film a few weeks ago, and I highly recommend it–both for people who are interested in the future of Detroit and for people who are interested in the future of transportation in this country. I’m interested in both and will definitely be watching (again) on Monday night.

P.S. – Detroit peeps: I heard a rumor that Transportation Riders United is planning to host a Blueprint America viewing party on opening night. Check their website for info.

Score one for the bus ladies

At 6:20 on Sunday morning, we welcomed a new member to our bus family. True to the predictions of the bus ladies (and everyone else), it’s a boy. His stats:

Name: Quincy Tonderai
Nickname: Busling
Birth date: 1/24/2010
Weight: 9 lbs, 5.5 ounces (And we thought his sister was big!)
Length: 21.25 inches

New Baby Busling

We rode to the hospital in a cab (door-to-door in five minutes) and took our baby Busling home on our family’s favorite route. (It’s a pretty long walk from Swedish to the 27 stop, but we had missed the 4 and were eager to get home to Chicklet.) Like his sister, he took his first bus ride in a car seat, since babies aren’t allowed to leave the hospital without one, but–also like his sister–he’ll soon be taking all his rides in a carrier.

Since the trip home, we’ve been bus free, resting and spending some QT with our sweet QT.

Car-free parenting: Emergency room adventures

At 2 AM Saturday morning, Chicklet woke up with a fever of over 104. After calling our insurance hotline and talking with an on-call nurse and doctor, we decided to take her to the emergency room. Even if the bus had been running at that hour, walking and waiting were out of the question (for me, anyway–Nerd was down), and there were no Zipcars available in our neighborhood. So, we settled for option three–a cab–and were sitting in the Swedish ER within 15 minutes of the call.*

Fortunately, Chicklet was not seriously ill. She had case of strep throat, from which she has recovered quite quickly. And have I mentioned how grateful I am to have insurance and access to quality medical care? I digress.

The prospect of emergency-illness situations like this was one of the few issues that gave me pause when planning for car-free parenthood. Nerd and I both knew that we’d remain car-free when we had kids and that we’d do whatever was necessary to make it work,** but from the beginning, I’ve felt anxiety about how we would handle the inevitable medical emergencies that seem to arise with small children.

I realize that this is an irrational fear. After all, we’ve chosen to live in a dense(ish), urban neighborhood that gives us easy access to both regular and emergency care. Our home is a block from Chicklet’s pediatrician and within a couple of miles of four hospitals. We also have multiple travel options (Zipcars, cabs, or ambulances, depending on the circumstances) for situations when her pediatrician’s office is closed and a bus is not available or practical. Still, there’s something about not feeling in control and about having to figure out how to get somewhere in a moment of crisis, that doesn’t–or, at least, didn’t–sit well with me.

Now that we have a few Chicklet ER trips under our belt (one by bus, one by Zipcar, and this latest, by cab), I feel more at ease. In every case, we were sitting in the waiting room within 30 minutes of our decision to go, which is faster than most car-owning suburban parents–many of whom live long drives from hospitals–can make it. In fact, if all else failed, we could probably walk to a hospital faster than a large percentage of Americans could drive to one. Shoot, if my parent-protective-fear-adrenaline instinct was activated, I’d run.

*It was actually a good trial run for labor (assuming that ever happens), which will also probably involve a cab ride.

**So far, we haven’t changed much–in terms of our transportation and living situation, at least. We still live in the same–though much more crowded–home, still rent Zipcars about as frequently, and still ride the same routes. About the only thing that’s changed is that we walk in our neighborhood (mostly headed to parks) even more than we did before.

The morning after

This morning, at about 9:30, I hopped on the 4, headed to my bazillionth obstetrician appointment. (Due date was Sunday and BB2B, who is apparently taking after Big Sister, does not seem eager to make an appearance.) It started out as an uneventful ride–a crowded and quiet (wrapped) trolley inching its way west on Jefferson toward downtown–until we pulled up to the stop at 12th.

Even though I had brought my bus read, I chose to spend the ride staring out the window and daydreaming, so I immediately noticed an odd woman standing at the stop, pulling her t-shirt up over her nose and flailing her arms (as if preparing for a race) while everyone else was boarding. Just as the driver was about to take off, she ran to the back entrance and grabbed both doors, leaving her sweatshirt and bag on the bench behind her. She held the doors for several seconds, then rushed aboard the bus and attacked the woman sitting directly behind me. It became clear almost immediately that: 1) the attacker did not know her victim and 2) she was completely out of her mind.

She grabbed a fistful of the woman’s hair and yanked, slapping and hitting her anywhere she could reach, all the while yelling and ranting at the top of her lungs. Another woman tried to stop the assault and was hit several times for her trouble. To our shero’s credit, she didn’t let up. The attacker continued to lunge at her victim, only letting go of her hair long enough to fend off the shero and to slap a man sitting nearby.

SPD arrived within a minute. The woman ran off the bus as soon as she saw the cops, though whether it was to get away from or confront them, I am not sure. Whatever the case, they apprehended her without much effort, though not before she managed to tear off her t-shirt and toss it at them. She was arrested, face down on the sidewalk, in nothing but her bra.

I’m still rattled, for so many reasons it’s hard to isolate why.

I’ve been riding Metro buses for 30(+) years, and I’ve witnessed my share of drama, but this is the first time I’ve ever felt afraid on a ride. I should say, of course, that this attack wasn’t specific to the bus; it could just have easily happened to someone walking by this woman on the street. (And Lord knows, crazy people attacking at random, in all kinds of settings, is far too common of late.) But, since this particular act of violence did happen on the bus, while I was riding, it’s worth discussing.

This wasn’t a fight between people with a specific beef, which can be disturbing but rarely feels threatening; it was a random attack on a woman who was minding her own business on her way to work. (It also happened to be a woman I’ve been seeing on buses for years–and who I consider to be part of my “bus family“–which made it hit closer to home.) I travel on the 4 with Chicklet all the time. What would I have done (and how would I have been able to protect her) if that woman had come after us?

I take normal precautions to stay safe (don’t travel alone at night except to places with substantial foot traffic, don’t wait at isolated stops, stay aware of my surroundings), but I’ve always felt that broad daylight on a crowded bus (or street) is about as safe as it can get. All of a sudden, even though I know intellectually that these types of incidents don’t happen often, I feel vulnerable in ways I haven’t in the past.

And that’s another thing: Only one person on that entire crowded bus lifted a finger to help the woman who was being attacked. Yes, we were all in shock (and many of us–especially big, lumbering, off-balance me–wouldn’t have been of much help), but mostly, I think, we were just worried about our own safety. I wanted the attacker to stop hurting the woman, but I was spending most of my brain cycles figuring out how to keep her from hurting me.

And that, after all of yesterday‘s celebrating and marching and talking and thinking and teaching my kid about peace and justice and concern for one’s fellow human, is more than a little disappointing.