Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Fire in the Hole


"Uhh, I'm sorry to have to tell you this but there's a fire in the subway and we're going to be offloading. . .there's nothing I can do. . .you'll have to get off and walk to Kenmore for a shuttle that will make all subway stops"  

It is 8:38 AM and I've been loosely considering texting my boss to let her know I'll be late, as   we were clearly not getting to my stop before 9.  The word, "fire" gives me pause, and I silence my earphones to take it the repeated announcement.  Late to work takes on a whole new meaning.

you can sort of see the masses crowded and freezing here
 Then, just like that we jerk to halt at Blanford, and hundreds of winter clad commuters swarm out of the T, blocking traffic on Comm Ave as we cross the street. My toes are frozen before I reach the opposite sidewalk to make the trek to the Kenmore bus station. A disheartened groan escapes my numb lips as I arrived at Kenmore to find that hundreds more people racing around trying to figure out how to get downtown.  We are directed to wait for shuttle buses, but as they begin to arrive, it becomes clear I've taken up a place in the back of the line. 
Thankfully, a very confused shuttle driver pulls up right in front of my section. She's only been given direction to take people from stops farther out here to Kenmore, but as we all wildly pile onto her bus, shivering and begging for a ride to our downtown destinations, she relents. 
Bodies thick with winter padding smash into the bus until it seems we were all one. A single, undulating down coat. I'm waiting for angry shoving. shouting and general angst to overtake the crowded shuttle. Yet, in a city known for the surly indifference of it's inhabitants, this sudden, minor disaster seems to have transformed my fellow Bostonians into generous, thoughtful, kind people.

"Hey, guys, let this lady of the shuttle, she got on by accident"
"The red line's closed too, everybody!"
"Guess we're all officially late for work" (that one followed by a laugh)
"you have to have a sense of humor to live in this city!"

And amid it all, my fellow shuttlers and I begin a strange foreign dance; one we do not involve ourselves in on our cranky Green Line. We make eye contact, smile, and roll our eyes in amused frustration. We forgive elbow jabs from panicked commuters as they push aggressively through our numbers with a laugh.  We thank the harried shuttle driver and wish her well as we clamor off the bus, our toes and noses immediately frozen in the negative air. We are happy, and light, with the strange sense of camaraderie that arises out of chaos.

Despite the frenetic (almost) two hours I spent getting the 5 miles to work today, I stepped into my office feeling more invigorated and light hearted than on any normal  day. You can blame it on the cold, if you will, but I think it's because this morning I got a glimpse of a fine moment for Boston. The cheerful, patient, let-it-roll-of-your-shoulders part that reminds me we are not all bad. 

Boston, sometimes we are beautiful, too.  

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