Living in the World
61 B

Yesterday, I stood waiting in front of the Waverly Presbyterian Church. This was Susan’s church when she lived in Pittsburgh. It is also where we were married thirty four [34] years ago on 4 May of this year. Wow! Thirty four years since I stood in front of this church. And, today I was waiting on bus 61 B to take me downtown. It had been longer since I rode a city bus…thirty six [36] years during my last year of law school. Then it cost thirty [$.30] cents; today two [$2.00] dollars.

It was an interesting trip down Forbes until it becomes one way, then down Fifth until reentering Forbes near the old county jail. The bus was full so I hung on a strap. There we were: white, yellow, black and Hispanic together as a little community. There were youngsters riding to school at Oakland Catholic [girls] and Central Catholic [boys] in Oakland. On board were students and others heading to Pitt. Assorted workers for the hospitals in the Oakland area and those headed for jobs in the downtown. A couple well dressed men, probably businessmen or attorneys, were along for the ride. Interestingly, no one alighted at Carnegie Mellon [CMU]. Maybe they are flush enough to drive or all students live on campus. By and large, the bus was populated by those who could not afford to drive to work, whether they had a car or not.

Our little community of travelers was not much different than other communities in which we lived. No one talked to each other. Most said hello to the driver, a 30ish attractive black woman. Some even said, “See you tomorrow”, indicative of their daily use of the bus. But, there was no greeting or such conversation with each other. Most avoided eye contact. When I smiled and said “hello” to those who would look at me, there was an inaudible reply or nothing. Many of the young ones had their phones out text messaging. The older folks hid behind newspapers and those of in between years were plugged into I pods.

On the way back from the city, it was the same. Unlike the trip in, there was a seat next to a black woman with ear buds in her ears, so there was no conversation with her. I heard more talking, but it was passengers talking on the phone, not to each other. This time at the CMU stop, people got on the bus. One young man sat next to me and I asked him how his day was and whether he rode the bus every day. He was a sophomore civil engineering major. I specifically asked him if he noticed passengers did not talk to each other. At that question, another person, a young lady who got on with him, turned around and smiled at the question. This was the only personal contact I had on both trips besides the female driver on the way downtown. As I alighted at the Waverly Church and spoke to the driver, a 40ish black man, he did not respond.

Why such a small amount of interpersonal communication? It was early going in, so some were probably not morning people desiring to speak to others. And, on the way back, folks may have been tired. But, that did not stop folk from talking on their phones while sitting next to someone else in the bus. Some of the youngsters probably were instructed to keep to themselves because of the concern for safety and about strangers. But, it is apparent that they see each other often, if not daily. And, as to me, who would speak to a first timer in blue jeans and a sweatshirt. But, I can’t help but believe it is a commentary on our society in general. What is happening in the lives of others is not important to us. We have our own issues. If the dude who gets on at Dallas doesn’t show up for a week I have no obligation to care or inquire. If I get involved with others, that ups the ante of responsibility. Who wants that? Self absorption is a lot simpler. I only have to care about myself.

Today I will not be on 61 B. Will anyone notice? Will anyone care? My appearance on 61 B did not register with all or most of the riders. But, what of the students headed to high school, or the workers at Presbyterian Hospital who ride everyday? Unfortunately, their non-appearance would likewise make no difference in the lives of the riders. And, that is a tragedy and shows where we are as a people on 61 B, in Pittsburgh, in Pennsylvania, in the USA and in the world.