A Long Ride Up

I’m one of those ex-New Yorkers, with excess energy and no patience to just ride the Washington DC Metro escalators. On a recent night, I was returning home. I had just gotten off the train at Wheaton and was rushing to its very long escalators, when I noticed a man in a wheelchair (I’ll call him Will) in the throng. Not wanting to be delayed, I walked in front of him, and turned to ask: “Don’t you want to take the elevator?” He replied that it was out-of-service and he knew how to use the escalator. I did recall seeing a yellow barrier in front of the elevator at the fare gate level when I was going a few hours earlier. (I knew that Metro would provide shuttle service from a nearby Metro station, but Will clearly was going to use the escalator.) I told him that I’d stand behind him.

Will certainly knew how to do it as he maneuvered onto the escalator, leaned forward, and firmly grabbed the moving handrails. I grabbed a back rail of the wheelchair. As the escalator began its ascent, it was clear that front wheels were a step above the back wheels. To get better leverage, I stepped back one stair. With each wheel on a level stair, we did not have to apply much force to stay steady.

As we ascended, others below asserted the unofficial rule of standing to the right and walking up on the left. As they realized the situation we of many races and nationalities became a community – with shared understanding and respect. However, one man whom I’ll call Harry was in a hurry. He insisted on being allowed by despite our protests. Will released his left hand, Harry squeezed by, and the chair held steady. (I can picture the chair pivoting left, rolling off the steps, falling down, and …) About a minute later, we reached the top and rolled off. As Will thanked me, he remarked that although he was confined to a wheelchair he still had the will to live life fully.

As I walked back to my car, I recalled that on the way to DC that very evening, I had badly needed to use a restroom. I chose Metro Center, as I needed to change trains there anyway. At one entry the station attendant told me that Metro had no public restrooms. She insisted that as a Metro employee she knew better than I. I could have told her that I have been riding Metro since taking it to Carter’s inauguration. Instead, I went to another entry where I found a more accommodating attendant, whom I thanked profusely. Perhaps Harry also had an urgent need.

I drove to the Wheaton station that night largely because Metro bus service is not as good as I would hope. My local bus, the Z2, no longer runs after 9:30 AM and before 2:30 PM or after 7 PM. Too often, a scheduled bus does not arrive at all. Poor bus service makes life especially difficult for those who depend upon transit buses.

I have the utmost appreciation for Metro for its essential services and dedicated employees. I also realize the stresses it is under, with recent accidents, a decrease in passengers due to the recession, and an unbalanced budget. For that reason, a few weeks ago, I attended a community meeting chaired by a member of the Metro board and John Cato, Metro General Manager. The issue at hand was (and is) that Metro is hurting financially and what should it do about it. The PowerPoint presentation showed among other things that MetroRail riders nearly pay their costs, bus riders pay about half their cost, and MetroAccess riders pay only a very small fraction of their costs (close to $40 per ride). (MetroAccess transports people, whose disability prevents them from using regular transit services.) During the public comment period, I suggested that MetroAccess as a social service should be supported by each of the local jurisdictions. The board member informed me that law clearly made it Metro’s responsibility. That may be, but Metro's new budget is already squeezed. It would be profoundly unfair if bus riders are left in the cold to pay for an important service that we are all responsible for.

My long ride up made me even more appreciative of Metro and its diverse clientele.