Just DRIVE, Deke

I've met some of the most amazing people in my life as a bus operator.
Here I am having a great time with two of my favorites!
I pray they both, ALL they love, and also those
with whom we proudly serve,
remain SAFE through this horrific pandemic.
Oh, and BTW, HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM! Love you buddy!

Deke's Note: Today is my brother's birthday, and that of my dear friend Sam. In their honor, I'm taking a WTF approach this morning. WTF not? Dwindling readers demand brevity, but a shortened word count does not necessarily result in this operator's truth to transit. Thanks for reading, and safety/wellness remain with you and yours.

Yeah, my post last night was alarmingly-alarmist. However, it was meant to send a message to our management that WE are more important than ITS corporate "financial forecasts". Nobody dared discuss the "nuclear option" so I felt it necessary to do so in my last post. Still, I took great pains to discuss it to highlight the dangers we drive into while others "work from home". As so many of my brothers and sisters have proclaimed, "WE CANNOT DO SO".

Still, I must convey even the least bit of hope to those who have done the nuts-and-bolts work of transit since its inception over a century ago. WE ARE TRANSIT, not management. "It" exists only to propel US forward. Unless those who "lead" have held the controls of a bus or light-rail vehicle in their hands could they ever fathom the dangers we have bravely endured. Instead, they deal in numbers, corporate earnings forecasts, and dreams of all-metropolis-encompassing routes driven by faceless "valuable contributors" to THEIR visions.

A visit to this 18th century Scottish cathedral
led me to pray not only for my immediate
family, but also for those with whom I share
this great profession we serve.

I will once again slide into an operator's seat tomorrow after a two-week self-induced quarantine. It is with regret I have been absent while my fellows have recently endured novel-COVID-19 horrors. However, I am (like you) more concerned with my most-vital mission to safeguard the health of my most beloved. I cannot stress how our loved ones we leave behind each day remain our main concern while we dedicate ourselves to a profession that concurrently depends upon, demands of, and also denigrates, US.

We're merely badge numbers while our years of service are only awarded respect when we remain on the job no matter our health concerns. As long as we daily grasp the controls of transit vehicles, then we're "valued" and hollowly-rewarded with some strange "Master Operator" bullshit. I don't mean to denigrate the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of those who attained this honor. Their dedication however was not properly-awarded in light of their sacrifices. If something happens which renders us unable to perform our job, we are simply replaced by a new body. "See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya," they seem to say in their indifference to our personal horror flicks. It tends to negate my desire to achieve such an award.

Still. There are no engraved memorials in either of our three Portland-area garages offering respect to our predecessors' sacrifices. I'd rather see such a long-deserved memorial than ever boast some managerial decoration. My love and respect is much better served in honor of those who gave the best years of their lives while failing to enjoy the just-rewards of their honorable devotion. Like Stewart, a longtime trainer who suffered his untimely demise just weeks before he and his beloved were to enjoy their retirement in Spain. Like lovely Freddi, who suffered a sudden onset of late-stage cancer without our even knowing it, passing away just a few months ago to our horrific grief, leaving my dear friend Henry missing forever the love of his life. There are countless other remembrances of those who passed while in service whose loving presence is greatly-missed most by those with whom they so valiantly served.

My dear friend Dan Wilson passed away yesterday after complaining the day prior about not feeling well as he drove his Line 70. Medical professionals could not save him. After years of suffering from abdominal maladies and countless FMLA leaves of absence, his heart failed. Dan was loved by not only US, but also by the thousands of passengers his smile and heartfelt messages of concern and fellowship bestowed upon them. We mourn him as we fear this horrible pandemic. Maybe Dan was lucky; he won't have to worry about catching it because he escaped its deadly wrath.

RIP, brother Dan Wilson. We're already missing your smiling face!

I knew Dan in some of his greatest pain. He told me one day as we visited in the Milwaukie break room that he didn't know how he could safely drive his bus. Lacking any more sick leave, he bravely held on for that next 20 minutes before being relieved at Center Garage on his final Friday run. He only envisioned that mystical, magical retirement promise we all hope gives us but a few more years with our loved ones before death strikes. I'm so very sorry Dan failed to see his due after nearly 30 years in service to Portland transit. He will forever live within my heart as one who encouraged me to see the light in every passenger who enters my bus. Even in horrible pain and discomfort, he had the strength to find joy in his profession.

RIP, Dan. I enjoyed every minute we shared together. You gave me more than I could ever repay. Your dedication reminds me how I so very much love my fellow operators, maintenance workers, supervisors, station agents, trainers, non-union workers, sanitation workers, fare inspectors, and everyone else who keep the wheels of transit rolling. WE are a team of invaluable proportions. I hope management finally recognizes today's pandemic may render their "financial projections" all for naught if they do not take the unprecedented (yet wholly-vital) step of shutting us down for the first time in history. It might save not only ourselves, but also a great number of our fellow Portlanders. It would also do justice to Dan and all those who have passed while providing such a vital service to our fellow citizens.

If I'm still alive when this pandemic disappears, I will gladly celebrate with you. It's my dream to speak to you in person, en masse at either the Union Summer Picnic at Oaks Park, or at the Labor Day gathering this September. If my untimely demise for whatever reason renders this impossible, I implore you to please remember my ONLY goal for writing this blog has always been to simply write my humble truth to transit: as I see it, From The Driver Side.

Bless you ALL in safety and health.
db

Oh yeah, I wrote a book. So what?