–— Journey is running a series of pieces provoked by our catastrophic epidemic. If you would like to contribute, let us know by emailing: editor@nycreligion.info —
Go Greyhound (and leave the driving to us). I’ve heard it all my life. That looks doable, driving a bus. I can do that, I thought, while between jobs. The virus that has stricken us was just a rumor out of Wuhan, China.
I had tried being an MTA bus driver. Hours were terrible and the bullets I had to dodge from the Bronx to Manhattan and back–10,000 cars times 10,000 cabs–were innumerable and insufferable! Give me a commercial driver’s license; that’s enough. I’ll be elsewhere if you need me at the bus stop.
The elsewhere was supposed to be Greyhound; that was my plan, but I had not factored the coronavirus into my calculus. No-one had.
I had a commercial drivers license (a CDL in bus world lingo) burning a hole in my pocket and a peculiar jonesing for the side-of-the-bus ‘liquid metal’ greyhound icon; it seemed to say ‘go greyhound or a sleek robotic canine will run a hole thru you.’
Okay, fine, I’ll be a Greyhound bus driver; just train me to be a bus driver and point that spear-like snout of the logo away from me to yonder.
Not a bus driver, said a Greyhound representative. Motorcoach operator. There’s a difference. The training I had received to be an MTA bus driver last fall was just as thorough but lacked a greyhound dignity. Greyhound elegance, perhaps? There IS something elegant to it. A greyhound bearing let’s say.
In the meantime, a distant roar was sounding from China. On February 24th, President Donald Trump asked for a $1.5 billion emergency fund to prepare for the coronavirus epidemic. Unknown to New Yorkers, the virus was likely already circulating in the city. The first known case was an woman that had just returned from her homeland of Iran on March 1st. Things were moving fast. The Saint Patrick’s Day Parade, which was scheduled to march on March 17th, was postponed indefinitely.
On Saint Patrick’s Day, I launched my first Greyhound Bus from the Port Authority. After a whirlwind three weeks of Atlantic City-based operator training, I was ready for a real drive featuring real customers on the route to Boston.
Lots of pressure, though.
Getting to Port Authority early enough to do the proper pre-trip checking of the motor coach inside and out. Lights, breaks, action! 10AM and we’re off!
Highway 278 to U.S. 95, 95 to 91, 91 to 84, 84 to 90. Four hours of light traffic – I found something to thank about the Wuhan virus – and then, we’re nearly there.
A series of verbal alerts started coming from my Greyhound motor coach-operator veteran, monitoring my maiden voyage from the front seat.
“Joe, you’re speeding!”
“Joe, you’re speeding, again!”
And, finally: “Joe, you’re speeding, and I’ll have to take you out of service if you disobey the speed limit once more.” WELL!!!
I had been yes-sirring him, but that final alert etched his scold into stone like an Eleventh Commandment.
So, the rest of the trip? I went too slowly – and the bus was filled with warnings from my monitor to “Speed up!” Oy vey! What can you do?
Go the speed limit!! Not above it, nor below it. 55 or 65 miles per hour on the button. Whatever it is that’s what I should do.
I was mildly relieved that the last hour was lawful and legal in most every way. I thought that I had bought myself some credibility and honor.
As soon as we parked the bus at Greyhound’s Boston bus depot and the several riders strolled away, my monitor fellow asked me to come with him. Where are we going? I thought.
Something about his mild urgency gave me pause.
Seconds later, he and I entered the company’s small bus dispatch office. While I received warm greetings, one fretful idea flashed before my eyes. I saw the words, “Mr. Little, we’re going to have to let you go because you sped!”
Instead, an off-key greeting came. The dispatcher told me, “Mr. Little, we’re going to have to let you- and your entire class- go due to the effect of the COVID-19 virus on customer demand.”
What was the lay of emotions in that situation with a looming shadow of the pandemic coming my way? I was 3% sad and 97% glad. Sad that I am still jobless but glad I wasn’t at fault. Hip, hip, HURRAY!
A moment later – after the dispatcher had hemmed and hawed something like regrets, she asked me, Mr. Little, how are you feeling?”
Without skipping a moment, I counted my blessings. I said with some joy in my voice: I feel like 800 minus 200.
600, you see, would be pretty good score for a bus driver test. Not as good as 800, but then again not 200 or 400. Or, well, zero!
After my last bus to Boston, I felt like Saint Patrick on his namesake day, with pals and a pint of ale.
God bless us everyone. Keep safe!
On April 8th, Greyhound announced that they were cutting service from New York City to Boston. However as a deemed “essential service,” they are continuing operations with reduced routes despite reports of workers and passengers who have contracted COVID-19. On Easter Sunday, Greyhound will offer four buses on the NYC to Boston route.
USA Today reported, “Greyhound spokeswoman Crystal Booker said on Tuesday, April 7th that 15 employees have tested positive for coronavirus.” Some of the first pandemic deaths on the Greyhound staff were driver-trainers and managers. Greyhound is operating at 35% of its normal capacity.
Joe Little was raised Baptist (with Lutheran schooling) in North Carolina until moving down the street to the Moravian Church for its youth fellowship. He has worked with a homeless ministry and is a member in good standing at Redeemer Presbyterian. Since 2005, he, his wife, and three teenagers have resided in the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
Interesting to see life in the epicenter of the pandemic.