Signs

I studied the plate fixed to the wall 

under the emergency exit window.  In Braille

it offered directions, meant for a blind

person, who, in an emergency, might

discover the label in the panic that 

generally follows an accident and escape 

through said window.  I guessed the

statement was there thanks to an 

Americans Disability Act document.  

As my brother said when we were kids,

"Sense!"   I jumped then to the image of 

the Braille instructions placed, on the driver’s side of the car,  

next to the drive up windows at a nearby  bank.  

What? Whose idea was that?  I asked my friend Terry,

blind gal, if she knew about the signs.  She said, “No.  I’ve never heard of that.  How would I find it on my own?”  Enough said.

            Traveling to Ogilvie I once counted the signs in my train car.  Dozens fixed on all surfaces. One said, basically, watch it! I was about to enter a quiet car.  Pay heed to the rules of the quiet car, or else!  I know, based on conversations, that people who dare talk on their phones - even a whispered conversation -  in those cars  tempt fate.  Self-appointed types and hired Metra employees first scold, then move to action.  Off you go, find another car, please.  Choosing solace, I climbed the steps and turned right into the designated car.

            Even though my fellow passengers were silent, signs posted throughout the car called to me.  They stated ; occupancy limits in the train car, showed where the mid-car emergency exits were, the car’s number and the date the car was issued. It was important to alert travelers to the fact that train cars were the property of the U.P., meaning, the Union Pacific Railroad.  Our neighbor, years ago, worked for the Union Pacific R.R. and drove a Jeep - company car.  What was on his license plate?  Simply, UP PU.              A bold statement made by an otherwise mild-mannered man.

            I noticed posters suggesting that taking a Metra train was “the way to really fly!”  2014 winter travelers might disagree. There were posters advertising upcoming events in downtown Chicago or the public library.  I liked that. Soon I‘d watch for Literary Fest notices and performances in Grant Park.  

         Directions to commuters told them, as they approached the doors, which step to stand on as the train rolled to a stop, and one telling folks toPUSH to open the doors to the train car. That was engraved on the plates for each door that led in and out as people exited, and a sign that told bicyclists where to park their bike inside the coach.  One sign, in plain language, said the general public should offer up their seats to riders who were either old, or pregnant.  No  issue with that.  Did I mention the message that suggest  all riders curb their consumption of alcohol, while intransit?  No drinking, please!  I do believe people must ignore that sign because from time to time unsteady riders drink, without much concern, from brown bottles in paper bags or grab clanking winecoolers from their Igloo’s.  They tend to be loud-talking, back slapping rabble rousers taking the train toor from a party or sports event, or unnaturally quiet, solemn souls.

            Intercom messages, commands really, broadcast at regular intervals. These tell riders to report back packs or packages left  unattended, “If you see something, say something…,” and to remember to take all belongings.  Leave nothing behind, the electronic voice tells commuters. Late in the route, as the train reaches the Clybourn stop, the intercom P.A. announces to passengers that the train is four minutes away from Ogilvie Transportation Center. Better collect all your things -everyone must exit  the train post haste after it reaches the station.

            I seem to recall the downtown station being named “Ogilvie Transportation Center” in the late nineties.  Previous to a major renovation, the hub that drew trains from all corners of the Chicago area prior to that work , had a very different look .    Several bars greeted incoming passengers, with newsstands and a CTA ticket dispenser.  Nothing like the mall shops and brightly lit juice bars now in place. The Corner Bakery with tables draped in white tablecloths on opera nights. 

            I walk the station whose namesake was Governor Richard Ogilvie, Cook County’s crime fighting -  organized crime that is, Sheriff for three years in the mid-sixties.  He later became an upstanding Governor for our State.  He was the leader who installed the Illinois state tax. That move sealed his fate as a one term governor replaced by Governor Dan Walker.  Ogilvie had an honorable record, and that of Walker? Let's say these men took different paths. Ogilvie had a hand in the development of our modern train lines, but the hard -won sought after dream of creating  a transportation district in downtown Chicago was the work one of our earliest Chicago Mayors and the first president of the Union Pacific.  It ought to be named  after the man passionate about building a transcontinental train line across our big untamed country as the United States contemplated civil war.

              It ought to be called William B. Ogden Transportation Center, but that’s another story.

            Thousands of commuters travel the train lines in and out of the city.  The signs offer direction and information for anyone who takes the time to read them.  Especially important…when entering The Quiet Car.