I used to brag to my out-of-town friends about what a great mass transit system we have. I boasted that I could run down to the local light rail train and be Downtown in 20 minutes, ready to work, go to a restaurant or take in a ballgame. But those times have changed. I'm now more embarrassed by the local mass transit. Not because the train and bus schedules have been cut or because the prices have risen, but because I can no longer count on what used to be a reliable source of transit.
It was wonderful when Port Authority Transit updated their T stations with state of the art communications equipment. I could look above my head to find out that the train would be running on reduced schedules during certain periods -- or that PAT would have special enhanced train schedules for certain traffic-producing events. But somewhere along the line, management either forgot how to use their glorious communications channels -- or simply gave up caring to communicate.
Recently, I decided to take the T Downtown for a luncheon event. So I walked to the local T stop and waited patiently as usual for my direct line Downtown, normally a 15 minute ride. While waiting, I did some prepping for the event; and I looked around the T stop to see if there was anything interesting. Seeing nothing unusual, I finally got on my train when it arrived.
Thinking the fares had recently gone up, I asked the driver how much it would cost me to go Downtown. He replied; and we got into a brief discussion about how the fares won't go up until end of year. But that's where the nice part of the trip ended. Getting closer to town, the driver announced over the loudspeaker: "Reminder that all T riders will get off at the next stop."
Reminder of what? That implies that I've already been told -- in this case that there is construction on the line ahead and that the train would not be able to complete its mission of delivering me at my event. But the driver had told me nothing; nor did I see anything about the route change on that high-tech communications board at the station -- not even a handwritten sign to tell me my train would run out of track before my destination.
After some prodding I got the driver to direct me to a group of people who were waiting for a shuttle bus to complete the trip. A father and son wearing baseball caps were patiently waiting. Two young ladies, Loren Aldenhoff and Kristen Madey, were quizzing the other riders -- er, standers -- because they also were surprised by the unexpected stop, having boarded a different train than I.
Sandy Roessler, a passenger who had boarded at the large Castle Shannon stop told me there was no sign of the change at her stop either, but that a passenger had cryptically suggested that she should follow the crowd in the other direction to get on another line. Then once on the bus, another young woman sitting next to me told me they've been rerouting traffic for weeks.
This scenario is a great example of how even the best, most sophisticated communications tools don't work if you don't bother to use them. PAT management had several options -- including having the drivers tell the riders (low tech) and changing the message on the electronic message boards at the stations (higher tech). But neither happened; and the passengers walked away dissatisfied and holding on to a poor image of transit management.