13
Street roots
O c t 14, 2011
Finding philosophers and storytellers in the back of the bus
BY ROB SADOWSKY
C O N T R IB U T IN G C O L U M N IS T
Healthy Streetbeat is a
monthly column for
Street Roots written by
the Bicycle
Transportation
Alliance (BTA). Our
contributors are Rob
Sadowsky, executive
director, and Margaux
Mennesson,
communications
director.
This is part two of a story “One bad
accident puts healthy streets in a whole new
light” that first appeared in Street Roots in
July about Rob’s experiences with transit and
mobility while he
recovered from a
H E M .T H T
broken collarbone.
STREETBEAT That article
explored struggles
Bicycle
with maneuvering
Transportation
around the city.
Alliance
This article
explores the joyful
experiences of
transit.
I’m a regular bicycle commuter. I see my
city through the height of my bicycle with a
full panoramic view of my surroundings. I
can hear and feel the city as I pedal through
neighborhoods, a full participant in so many
ways and all alone in many others. I can get
some thinking done while I ride,.mull over
my feelings and occasionally get inspired.
This experience keeps me riding even on
dull rainy days.
Ÿëtl occasionally yearn for another
experience that provides a completely
different participation. I love that bumpy,
shoulder-to-shoulder squeezing phenomenon
o f riding a bus. I’m not like some transit
PEOPLE'S PARK, from page 12
noticed th e street seemed eerie and quiet.
There was no traffic. Then we heard shouts
from a distance and looked toward University
Avenue- People walking backwards came into
•View — a large crow d, a th o u sa n d o r so, were
being pushed back by guardsmen marching
in cadence with bayonets drawn, pointed at
the'throng. We heard helicopters and looked
up. Tear gas was being dropped near the
Berkeley campus.
A s a counter measure, veterans of anti-war
marches helped organize a big People’s Park
demonstration. Pacifists dominated the
planning and trained a large contingent of
parade monitors* Paranoia sparked rumors
that the FBI would sprinkle “agent
provocateurs” throughout the crowd.
On the momentous day, May 30,1969,
over thirty thousand people marched. I
rideis who look for the first open seat, or
the seat that gives me the least contact with
others. I go straight to the back of the bus
where I surround myself with personalities,
with talkers.
While riding TriMet during the tíme I was
recovering from my crash a few months ago,
I got to know a new part of the city through
a different panorama. Sometimes it meant
looking out the window and seeing the city
go by me, a slide show that captured bits
and pieces. Unlike riding a bicycle, I was
rarely alone on my travels. I had
troubadours who entertained me with their
life stories. I heard sad stories that made
my heart ache but at the same time made
me realize I have an easy life. I remember
outlandish stories from long board
skateboarders flying down twisting curves
only to end up in casts as brightly colored as
a parrotfish shimmering in the sunny ocean.
I would move from being an active
storyteller to audience in the same trip, as
these troubadours pulled out modem moral
stories fit for a 1970s a rt film cutting room
floor. Some morals I’ve learned include
important lessons such as. “It never pays to
be a computer hacker. It’s very lonely in
prison without computer privileges,” or,
“Three friends drinking hooch in the
morning watching Johnson Creek roar by is
remember seeing the guy in front of me
aboutto throw a rock, but people in the
crowd closed around him, and someone took
the rock out of the man’s hand. The march
stayed peaceful, and the sheer number of
marchers had its effect The fence came
down; People’s Park stayed.
The next 20 years were marked by onand
o ff C onflict — t h ^ C itv pf B erk eley an d UC.
.....
students trying to keep People’s Park open,
the university attempting to close People’s
Park down. There were political battles over
the serving of free food and the playing of
amplified music — battles which People’s
Park activists won. The university paved over
part of the land in 1979, intending to charge
students parking fees, thus sparking another
melee. A couple hundred people used pick
axes to break up the asphalt. In 1984 the
Berkeley City Council determined that the
park was a landmark and should be
better than any espresso bar downtown.”
We are by nature philosophers and
storytellers. We love to gossip, to feel a part
of an intricate web. Riding on a bus is more
interactive than reality TV; the stories are
intricate and not interrupted by commercial
breaks — stories that carry you to your next
destination. We are full participants in a
drama that unfolds quickly.
Capture your own stories, all for the price
of transit and no need for an Ira Glass
introduction. Join me in the back of the bus
someday and tell me your story. Maybe I’ll
share my story about my friend Lew and the
duck.
While on the topic of TriMet, I’d like to
take a moment to thank Colin Maher, the
Bike and Pedestrian Access Planner for
TriMet for all his great work to make this
region a better place to bike and walk with
transit. Colin’s position is ending and he’s
off to travel to Australia after working for
TriMet for more than four years
coordinating such great projects as new bus
parking facilities at transit centers and
stewarding design change in the Rose
Quarter. Colin acted as a solid advocate
from within the system. We’ll miss you
Colin, your impact on our region will last a
long time. Thanks for making it easier to
reach my troubadours.
preserved. Seven years later thè city and the
university reached a five-year agreement for
joint management, but when the university’s
bulldozers starred to clear part of the land
for volleyball courts, twelve days of rioting
followed.
January of 1996 another agreement was
reached between the City Of Berkeley and
the Univeisity^bf California: The ¡city would
manage the pari?; the university would retain
property rights.
Today, the park serves as a daytime haven
for many of the area’s homeless; students
play in the basketball courts; volunteer
gardeners tend the organic gardens and
native plants; rallies and concert’s
occasionally gràce the People’s Stage.
I remember seeing the
guy in front of me about
to throw a rock, bnt
people in the crowd
closed aronnd him , and
someone took the rock
out of the man's hand.
The march stayed
peaceful, and the sheer
number of marchers had
its effect. The fence
came down; People's
Park stayed.
“The price of liberty is eternal vigilance”
-WENDELL PHILLIPS
By N a tio n R o p e r