Newsgroups: bit.listserv.words-l
Date:         Wed, 16 Dec 1992 13:23:06 EST
From:         Bill Merrill <ST401601@BROWNVM.BROWN.EDU>
Subject:      T-bus story
Comments: To: WORDS-L@UGA.CC.UGA.EDU

I had my own little adventure on the T last weekend.
There had been reports Friday of over a foot of snow in
western Mass, but what we had in Boston was driving rain
accompanied by wild gusts of wind from the ocean - a
real Nor'easter. This too had been the weekend of the
Academic Advisory Committee Conference when a bunch of
bigwigs get flown in from all over to evaluate the
hypertext project I'm working on. By Friday afternoon
they are starting to panic, calling up the office,
is it still on? is Logan airport open?

When Saturday morning dawned, the rain had
turned to snow, about 4 inches at my house
in Arlington Heights which is 400 feet above sea level.
The conference transpired pretty much as planned,
and the grand finale was a banquet
to be held at the new Harvard Inn in the Square.
Drinks were at 7, dinner at 8. I had heard that
the food there was not very good, but was surprised
that the fare lived up to its reputation. We
weren't served until after 9, and my steak was tough
and over-cooked. No matter. The gathering was convivial
and the evening went quickly. I could see out the
window that it was still snowing like crazy, and,
concerned lest the T-busses stop running, I excused myself
in order to catch a 10:40 out of the Square.

Why is it that if you are even 5 seconds late for a
bus, you will have missed it, but that if you are
early, the bus will be late? This one pulled into the
station 15 min late, and the driver announced that he would
only be going to Pleasant St. This is about 2 mi downhill
from where I live, but I didn't have much of a choice.
Muttering something about a bunch of wimps, I climbed aboard.

We proceded. It was snowing hard, but not blizzard-like.
The roads had been plowed within the last several hours.
What does a bus weigh? 10 tons? They are usually impervious
to the elements. I guess it depends who's driving.
We stopped for a light and the driver slammed on
the brakes and the bus slid halfway into the intersection.
So now the guy crept along no faster than 5 mph and began to
to treat the brake pedal with respect. Picking up and
discharging passengers, he would drive into the deep snow
at the side of the road. The last time he did this, the wheels
only spun. Great, I thought, we're stuck. Then he gunned it,
and the bus lunged into traffic, the rear fishtailing into
the oncoming lane. To no one in particular I said aloud,
"I don't think this guy has ever driven in snow before."
The man in front of me said, "I don't believe he's
ever *driven* befo'."

At the railroad crossing on Blanchard Rd. we had to
stop for a train, and wouldn't you know it, the signal
got stuck. So the driver gets out of the bus and manages
to raise the barriers about half way. He then drove across
at about a 45 degree angle to the tracks, scraping against
the right hand barrier, the warning bells clanging and the red
lights flashing all the while.

Several blocks later our way was blocked by a downed power line.
"I can make it though," the driver said. At this point I
expressed an earnest desire to get off the bus, which I did
along with my fellow passengers.

I began the long walk up the hill. Soon a small
sports car appeared. It was losing speed, and about 50
feet from me a guy hops out the passenger side and starts
pushing. I joined in the effort, and noticing that the car
had rear-wheel drive suggested that we do something to
improve the traction. So we both jumped onto the trunk
and rode up the hill in style. I finally got home after
midnight. Everyone was asleep, so I couldn't tell my story
till morning.

Bill
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