The criminal charge apparently stems from a Massachusetts law that applies to a “railroad or railway of the class usually operated by steam power.”  One probably can’t begrudge the District Attorney for not knowing the precise history of the Green Line and the Scollay Square trolley stop; that history never involved steam.

But it certainly would be interesting if the railroad law applied on the Green Line.  The law has some interesting, specific requirements.  A few things would need to change.  To be a trolley conductor, Quinn would have needed to serve as a “brakeman” for two years.  Not a bad idea … except trolleys only have one driver (and a door-operator) and no brakeman.  Any trolley conductor who never worked as a “brakeman” (probably all of them) would be subject to a $500 fine and year imprisonment.  (There’s no such thing as a railroad “operator”)  Bare-headed Green Line employees also would be no more; all railroad employees must don a “cap.” An employee without a “cap” forfeits $45.

But on the other hand, maybe some changes would make some sense.  If the Green Line was a railroad then it would be required to accept bicycles, one per rider.  Of course, as I’ve written previously, the Green Line irrationally prohibits bicycles under all circumstances. And don’t try to hold the door to keep the Green Line train from leaving the station; if it’s a railroad that offense carries up to a $1,000 fine and 20 years in prison, which makes what Quinn is facing look like tiddly-winks.

Obviously the Green Line isn’t run like a railroad.  There is a reason for that; it’s a street railway, apparently subject to an entirely different law.  That law doesn’t require employees to wear caps, has no obvious requirements for the qualifications of conductors, and (unfortunately) doesn’t require that trolleys accommodate bicycles.  If you merely obstruct a trolley you only can be jailed for three months (instead of 20 years).

And if you drive a trolley at excessive speed like Quinn allegedly did — even willfully — you forfeit $500.  That might conceivably seem like a bit light of a maximum penalty.  But fear not; all operators of common carriers — from steamboats, to buses, to trolleys — also are subject to an entirely different law that the District Attorney apparently did not specifically name, which carries a penalty of two and a half years in jail for gross negligence in the control of any common carrier (not just a railroad).

What does all of this add up to?  Well, ultimately if the District Attorney succeeds in sending Quinn to prison for three years (instead of to jail for 2 1/2)  for crashing a railroad train (and not a trolley), then the T should get ready to welcome bicycles and their riders on that same line.  Because that’s the law!

The NTSB found that the crash probably occurred because the trolley operator didn’t stop at a red light on the tracks.  And the most likely reason the operator didn’t stop was because she didn’t see the red light.  And the most likely reason she didn’t see the red light was because she was asleep.  And the most likely reason she was asleep was because she had a hidden medical condition that deprived her of sleep.  Thus the most likely cause of that unfortunate collision was resolved as thoroughly as it probably ever will be.

But the NTSB made another interesting finding.  The red light was broken and stuck on red.  The signal was red all the time, even when it should have been yellow or another color.  Even more strange, the T did not know about the broken signal because “[MBTA] operating rules do not require that train operators report signals [erroneously] displaying red.”

Accidents happen, and everyone knows that the cash-strapped T relies on antiquated systems.  But what about “see something, say something?”  When passengers see something suspicious they are supposed to run breathless to a station attendant.  And when a conductor notices a piece of essential safety equipment is broken and out of service … silence?

Stuck in Newton on the way to the ballpark

In a minature version of the Easter 2009 turnpike toll fiasco, insufficient staffing at the Riverside Green line terminal in Newton at noon on Sunday jammed traffic all the way back onto I-95/Route 128.  Red Sox faithful arrived at the station early for the 1:35pm afternoon start … and most still needed all of the time and patience they could muster.

Near Capacity Lot a Surprise for a Sunday

Turnout was strong for the short trolley ride to the stadium.  With the reduction in trolley fares inbound from the station a few years ago (from $3 per person to $1.70), families west of Boston seem to know a good deal when they see one.

Too bad the T and its contractor, Central Parking, didn’t get it right today, and they left T patrons idling in traffic for probably forty-five minutes each — right outside of the station.

Traffic backed up to highway overpass

The problem: Riverside station has staffed booths at the entrance to the parking lot, and in their wisdom, Central Parking and the T sent just one attendant to staff the collection booth for the entire thousand-space lot.  For occasional parkers, like weekend Red Sox fans, paying for parking is not a speedy proposition.  So the influx of fans piled up at the booth near the back of the station.  And then the line backed up through the station (blocking bus access). And then the line jammed up the local street outside.  And then it jammed up the Route 95/128 overpass, going so far as to stop traffic, bumper to bumper on the Route 95/128 off-ramp.

Transit-jam on highway off-ramp

I doubt many of those fans are feeling very smart now about their decision to ride the T.  A half-hour trip to the Sunday game turned into a two-hour nightmare.  It’s unfortunate that the T and Central Parking can’t figure out a way to collect weekend parking fees in an effective way.

Riverside Station entrance

When the Turnpike inexplicably jammed patrons earlier this year by understaffing collection booths, the head of the organization promptly resigned.  Although this jam was no less inexcusable, don’t expect the same thing from the T.  In some ways it seems to set the bar lower.  But at Central Parking on the other hand … there may be some anxious days ahead.

(eds. note: Red Sox game coincided with final day of the Tall Ships Festival)

Think again.  Several transit agencies participated in a wacky “sale and leaseback” arrangement involving their trains, the banks, and insurance companies including AIG.  The Washington DC Metro, Bay Area Rapid Transit, and Chicago Transit Authority sold their trains to banks, which leased the trains back to the transit authorities.  The deals were guaranteed by insurance companies, most notably AIG, and the agencies all were defaulted when AIG lost its high quality financial rating (and then some) in the fall of 2008.  The upshot: the transit agencies suddenly were obligated pay banks millions of dollars they otherwise would not have had to pay.

As an aside, a bank owning a subway train doesn’t make a whole lot of intutive sense, does it?  Why would a bank want a train?  Well, the answer apparently is that the bank can write off depreciation of the trains on its taxes whereas a transit agency cannot.  Public transit agencies generally don’t pay taxes.  So the banks paid the transit agencies for the privilege of owning the trains as a tax shelter.  Neat, huh.

This Green Line car courtesy of the Wilmington Trust Company

The T avoided the limelight on this, and probably many people simply assumed that the T didn’t participate in sale and leaseback transactions.  Think again.  I stumbled across the plaque to the right on a Green Line train at Government Center.  Maybe there aren’t many bank-owned trains … but there are at least a few.  Now I know where to send my complaint about the faux wood paneling!  To the bank!

There may yet be a happy ending to this catastrophe.  The transit agencies were left out of the original 2008 Wall Street givaway but Christmas/Channuka/Kwanza may yet arrive at the DC Metro and elsewhere if  Congress agrees to step into AIG’s shoes to guaranty the bank deals … and to avoid the banks having to find a repo guy with a tow truck big enough to haul away all of those trains.

In Emergency to Stop Car and Open Doors Pull Lever Down and Push Doors Apart

Ever seen the red levers on the Green Line trains?  Ever wonder what happens when you pull the lever?  The train stops, right then and there.  No matter what it was doing before; 20mph to zero in a flash.

When is the lever supposed to be used?  “In Emergency.”  The T attracts all kinds of folks, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that the word “emergency” can mean different things to different riders.  To a regular commuter, “emergency” might mean “life or death situation.”  But how about to a gaggle of tween girls on a shopping expedition without a chaperone?  What might “emergency” mean to them?  Could it mean “accidentally got on the E train outbound to Brigham Circle when we wanted to go to Kenmore?”  If you believed that no one possibly could think that would qualify as an “emergency” enough to pull that lever … you’d be wrong.

MBTA: Where are you going today?

I boarded a Green Line “D” train a few months ago at Longwood station.  The station was in the midst of yet another renovation, and there were several workers around.  One of them handed me a flyer.  Turns out that the MBTA is running a passenger survey.  They wanted to know my origin, destination, mode of payment, and purpose.

There are two more pages to the survey and I’m still not sure what to make of it.  I have to applaud the effort … but to what purpose?  Doesn’t the MBTA collect most of this information at the farebox?  Well, perhaps not.  The T knows who goes into their system and where … but where the passengers go … that is anyone’s guess.

I feel a little guilty for not completing the questionnaire and mailing it in.  The last few lines even ask for grades for the T service on several criteria: reliability, safety, cleanliness, courtesy, announcements, availability of seats, frequency, parking, station amenities, and fare collection.  Maybe I should just send them a link to this blog.

Green Line at Chestnut Hill station

I recently bought a bicycle.  I decided on Sunday to ride it from Providence to Boston.  Awesome.  After a series of misadventures preparing for the ride — including a 40-minute late MBCR train to my starting destination — I was a little short of daylight, but still optimistic.

So at about 8 p.m., here’s the situation: I’m crossing Route 128 on the Westwood/Dedham border and I know I’ve got only about 15-minutes of daylight left to get where I need to go … but my destination (on the T system) still is about 45 minutes away.  Ideally, I’d go to the nearest MBTA station stop, right?  So which stop to I choose?  West Roxbury Station on the Needham line?  Forest Hills station on the Orange Line?  Chestnut Hill station on the Green Line?  Readville Station on the Franklin Line?  Find a bus?

I go for the familiar, frequent Green Line service, right?  The Needham line doesn’t run on Sunday, parts of the neighborhood around Forest Hills can be tough after dark, and who knows when a bus or a Readville train will come bounding down the tracks.  Right?  Bicycles, carriages, bulky luggage — all the same, right?  Equally welcome.

Wrong! Sunday night isn’t exactly a busy time on at Chestnut Hill station.  The parking lot is empty, and so are the inbound trains.  But don’t take the ample space on the trolleys and lack of posted guidance as indications that you and your bicycle are welcome.  We weren’t.  It doesn’t matter if it’s dark and you have no lights on your bike; if you’re stranded; if you have money burning a hole in your pocket; if the train is completely empty.  All irrelevant.  The only thing that matters is that at some point in the gauzy past some MBTA administrator convinced all of the Green Line drivers that they would be fired if they allowed anyone onto the the trolley with anything resembling a bike.  Ever.

This may be the stupidest MBTA policy yet.  I completely understand that my bicycle takes up space.  On the foolishly slow MBCR train I rode to the start of my bike ride, my bicycle and I occupied four seats (the three bikes on the train occupied six seats total).  Would I object to paying for some of those seats?  Not really; I’d pay, probably a premium, and particularly if it guaranteed me the ability to transport the bike onto the train (apparently you can be denied boarding if more than six bikes are on the train!).  Would I have done the same on the Green line?  Certainly.  I was tired enough I practically would have handed the MBTA my entire wallet.

But they didn’t want my money.  They wanted to run their empty train into Boston instead.