The slogan used to be “To Live and Die in LA” but they should change it to “To Live and Die While Riding the Metro in L.A” because I fear that each ride I take on the train or the bus will be the last trip I take anywhere.
By MARY FRANCIS DAVIDSON
And I say that without jest, every trip on a Metro train or bus could easily be my last trip anywhere.
Lately, I’ve been on the train because I have downtime right now and have recently and happily gotten rid of my car of five years.
At first, I was encouraged to see heightened security throughout the system. The numerous guards and ambassadors provided me with a sense of calm.
But, now, a week later, I can say any new security forces are overwhelmed. There is a literal scourge of drugs, crime, homelessness, filthy, stinking people, one of those filthy long-term homeless ladies with a reeking cat in a cage and a huge pile of basically trash, and it’s horrifying, just FYI.
There is no decorum known by these people and none required. There is no code of conduct, no civility, just a ‘rebel without a cause’ mentality that amounts to a one-way ticket to jail and for no reason, except, in my opinion, some not-too-bright sector of society has taught them learned helplessness and lawlessness.
It’s really serious. I got on a bus just now after the train and a guy staggered on and called me a name, starts with a “b,” and then threw something. I called 911 on him, and I probably shouldn’t have done that because he could’ve had a knife, but I did.
Luckily, he hollered at me while I held the phone up so he could be heard by the 911 operator and then he growled at the bus driver to let him off… in other words he ran away.
Earlier, on the A train from Pasadena to Arcadia, one car was overwhelmingly filled with such characters, one young man sprawled over his stuffsack across the two back chairs as his eyes rolled up in his head, looking like he just took a syringe shot of some kind of drug.
Another guy sat on the other side, looking just as wasted and reminding me of a passenger I saw last week who was dragging himself around with his backpack pocket wide open showing at least 20 fresh syringes for all of us to see. He’s shooting up, he is telegraphing. He’s a dope fiend, and some unwise part of society has told him to be proud of it, and of being a criminal.
Next up as I made my way through the cabin was the cat-cage lady, reeking.
I continued up toward the front to the next car which was slightly better.
But it’s too much! That’s what I said imploringly to a two-man security guard team.
It’s too much!
Even earlier, going toward Pasadena from Arcadia earlier, a guy was catching himself on fire while mumbling to himself incoherently. When the guards boarded, I called them over and myself and another stunned female passenger who had moved closer, just across from me, in order that he did not also catch her on fire, reported his burning conduct and, also, that he had at an earlier stop, quickly exited the train, threw two crushed soda cans and some other junk, out into the 210 freeway traffic, and then came back on.
Total chaos and disorder!
The guards told us that there’s nothing they can do unless they see him doing it. But I’m glad I reported to them and I told them I was very grateful they were there. At least I tried! The other girl protested their reaction, saying, “We both saw! We both reported! What more do they want!” as she exited.
I continued talking to the guards about the very serious reason, which I had seen on the news and was aware of, they were sent out to Pasadena to patrol.
Several days ago, an attack occurred around 5 AM at the Allen stop in which a man randomly and repeatedly socked an unwitting woman, with whom he was not acquainted, and then dragged her across the train tracks onto the freeway and tried to throw her into traffic. He continued stomping her face and head as she fortunately crawled away from the speeding traffic leaving her with serious, long-term injuries. The whole event is captured on cameras, which surveil all train stops.
A suspect, Juan Pablo Flores, 33, was later arrested and charged with attempted murder and mayhem, according to news reports.
It’s not doable! I don’t know how people do it, public transport. So many failed policies. They need to triple or quadruple the new security forces.
They need to enforce a code of conduct similar to stopping drunkards operating vehicles on the freeway. Can they?
I told one armed security guard, they need to have one of you for every one of us, This is how this needs to work. It’s crazy!
Yesterday, three pre-teens with bikes sat on the A line rear seats hot-boxing the whole cabin with pot smoke. Because I’ve worked in social services, I know how to approach and de-escalate a situation like this, at times. With these three, I walked up casually and said, Hey, I’m allergic to it, is there any way you could consider not smoking? And they did agree.
Later, one of the boys started to make a wild, sexualized face, using his tongue, at me as they got off the train with their bikes, but then he stopped himself as I caught his eye. I’m glad I have that effect on such kids, at times.
Soon, a drunken man with an open beer got on and talked to himself loudly and aggressively throughout his ride, seemingly with the intent of antagonizing — or scaring — the rest of us. He talked about the new security guards on board (none of whom were present), the color of their shirts, what it means, what it might mean to him. At least five stops of this. I pulled my hat down my over face. No one said anything. Usually, there is nothing to say. An aggressive drunken male is different from three pre-teen potheads.
As my ride came to an end, I mentioned to a young attractive couple near my exit,
“Why go to Knott’s Scary Farm or any such attractions? You just get on this train with a smooth ride and get terrified and almost die and it’s real. It’s not fake! And not in a good way! It’s so sick!”
With all this in mind I’m left thinking, bus and metro employees, including all cleaning staff (as I also watched a female janitor being accosted verbally by a drunk, and then seem to decide to exit), deserve the same kudos as cops.
Btw, I don’t know if I have mentioned this, but my plan is to move to Miami. I was born in Miami. I’m gonna die in Miami.
MARY FRANCES DAVIDSON is a writer-at-large for LAMonthly.org. She attended the USC Annenberg School of Communication and Journalism. She can be reached at davidson.mary@myyaho.com
