February 2005, Portland, Oregon

By Patrice Hudson

The weather was typical for fall in Portland: overcast and cool but not wet. Commuters on the Trimet bus numbered about three dozen, there were plenty of empty seats and the bus was running right on schedule. I was usually on the next bus, which delivered me to the school where my children attended a moment or two past dismissal time, so I was enjoying being ahead of time and sank back with a good book.

I was reading “The Time Traveler’s Wife,” and Niffenegger’s Clare was lovingly tending to the wounds of her husband Henry when a pounding thud alerted me to the fact that the bus had arrived at Lloyd Center. I looked up just as we slowed to a stop.

A strapping young man boarded, spitting mad and complaining angrily because the driver had slowed at the curb, then accelerated ahead a few feet before coming to a complete stop. In between the slowing down and the actual stopping the would-be passenger thought that the driver was pulling away before he had a chance to board, thus the thudding and the cursing. The driver patiently explained that she was merely pulling forward to allow space behind her for another bus, but the passenger didn’t want to hear it. He and his buddy were already headed down the aisle toward the back of the bus and he interrupted the driver’s explanation with a curt, “Bitch shut up and drive.”

The driver had begun to turn the wheels away from the curb when his words fell upon her like angry fists. Her demand for an apology yielded only a “Fuck you!” The driver again demanded an apology and informed everyone on board that she would not move the bus from its current location until she got one.

A woman on the bus who looked like she could be his mother urged the young man to apologize while two other women complained loudly about the bus running late. They insisted that the driver get moving but she merely repeated that she wouldn’t budge without an apology, then went silent as she cut off the engine. Passenger reaction ranged from anger at the driver to anger at the young man, from concern to apathy, from frustration to indifference.

The offender protested, exhausting his full range of cursing vocabulary before he eventually shifted off his seat and began making his way back up toward the front of the bus. As he approached the driver he threatened to punch her in the face. Silent no more, she responded saying that she would call the police, her hand already gripping the on-board telephone, if he touched her. This further outraged the young man, who paused at the front door of the bus, spouting about how he wasn’t afraid of her or no “God-damned po-lease,” then turned and stepped off the bus without making good on his threats of violence. His silent friend followed as they both walked quickly away from the scene.

There was a collective sigh of relief on the bus, until passengers realized that the driver was not showing any indication that she intended to drive.

The loudest complainers immediately asked why the bus remained parked. The driver didn’t respond except to complete the action of calling in an incident report. When she hung up she kept her shoulders high and her face forward and announced to the windshield that she was finished driving for the day, that another bus would be along in a few minutes, and that passengers could wait inside the bus if they preferred.

As commuters began collecting their backpacks and shopping bags the driver, still facing forward rigidly in her seat, opened the back door. Six of us remained on the bus, five women and a teenage boy wearing earphones who was immersed in a book. He looked up in surprise, pulled the earphones from his ears and asked if there was a mechanical problem. His obliviousness broke her.

The driver’s stiff shoulders suddenly began to tremble from her inaudible sobs. The woman nearest to me approached the driver to offer support. The driver tearfully explained that she just couldn’t go on, it was the third time that day that she had been verbally assaulted. What was wrong with people? What happened to respect for fellow humans? The passenger assured her that she had done the right thing, but her kind words yielded no reaction.

A Trimet supervisor arrived and boarded the bus. The crowd outside the bus resumed their loud complaints and opinions, demanding that he issue all-day bus passes for their inconvenience, but he was intent on speaking directly with the driver. Their conversation was muted, but we could see her shaking her head vehemently. After several minutes the supervisor somehow coaxed the driver into re-starting the bus, then stepped off to meet the crowd’s demands.

Giddy passengers climbed back into the bus and reclaimed their seats. Several encouraged those of us who’d never left the bus to go out and get our free passes. A few boldly asked those who declined the offer to get them anyway, that they wanted ours if we didn’t. Fourteen minutes after we’d arrived at that bus stop, the bus pulled away.

Patrice Hudson is a program administrator and graduate writing student at Portland State University, as well as a single mother of three. She has used public transportation most of her life and often writes about the people and experiences on the bus.

Posted by Elizabeth Armstrong Moore on Tuesday, October 31st, 2006 | Email This Post

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