Metro train crash is no surprise to me
That was my train that crashed today, and I might have been on it had I not called in sick today.
When I arrived here last October I found the Metro trains ever so charming. Oh, how I loved the train! But after months of commuting I’ve become increasing irritated by the incompetence-plagued system.
A typical commute on the Red Line usually involves stop & go as if you were sitting in a car on a busy highway during rush hour. At other times, the trains creep along at a snail’s pace. I don’t know how trains going in a straight line on rails can manage to have such issues, but they do. When the driver comes on the PA system to explain the predicament, it’s usually incomprehensible – like they’re talking with a mouthful of marbles. Like Charlie Brown’s teacher. (And was that the sound of a ballgame playing in the background?) Tourists exchange glances with locals, “What did he just say?”, as if we could understand him any better.
The worst part of the Red Line are the bumps and uneven tracks. Bumps on train tracks? “Did we just go over a POTHOLE?” I’ve often wondered. Sometimes, when a train comes to a complete stop (Yes, they often come to a complete stop and then sit still for minutes at a time) it leaves the passengers leaning one way or other, pressed up against the glass and each other, as if we’re parked on the bank of a race track.
I wish that were all. Sometimes the train delays cause them to run so far apart - and the signs showing arrival times are often dead - that the platforms fill up with such crowds that people can’t get off the train when it stops. The doors open but nobody can move. There’s nowhere to go. And the doors don’t stay open long enough for the passengers to sort through the mess. They mercilessly snap shut tight, separating people from their briefcases and parents from their kids.
If this weren’t enough, there are always dozens of escalators out of service at any given moment throughout the system. Sometimes there are multiples out in one station, causing people to have to walk up or down long, 200 foot sections of escalator. I’ve watched women wince as they painfully do this in heels. I saw one woman with a swollen, obviously injured ankle, navigate the long descent at Dupont Circle one slow step at a time. She was crying by the time she reached the bottom.
I once sat in the forward-most seat on the train and watched the driver through the one clear section of glass. I watched him for about six stops. (including those surrounding the accident) He wasn’t doing much. To my surprise, he wasn’t driving the train. The system was entirely automated with the train starting and stopping on its own. This, apparently, leaves the drivers bored and in need of a diversion to entertain themselves. Sometimes the drivers carry on conversations with other Metro employees who, from what I’ve seen, frequently come to visit (sometimes more than once on my 11-station trip). This particular driver just sat and played air drums during the trips between stations and then got up to, dutifully, check out the window to watch the passengers exit and enter before he sat down for his next set.
The news of cause for this accident hasn’t come in yet, but it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if one train jumped the tracks at one of those “potholes” and was subsequently rear-ended by another piloted by an air drummer or baseball game listener who wasn’t paying attention.
I hate to say it, but sometimes someone has to get hurt, or killed, before incompetence is dealt with.
Hopefully this will be a turning point.
When I arrived here last October I found the Metro trains ever so charming. Oh, how I loved the train! But after months of commuting I’ve become increasing irritated by the incompetence-plagued system.
A typical commute on the Red Line usually involves stop & go as if you were sitting in a car on a busy highway during rush hour. At other times, the trains creep along at a snail’s pace. I don’t know how trains going in a straight line on rails can manage to have such issues, but they do. When the driver comes on the PA system to explain the predicament, it’s usually incomprehensible – like they’re talking with a mouthful of marbles. Like Charlie Brown’s teacher. (And was that the sound of a ballgame playing in the background?) Tourists exchange glances with locals, “What did he just say?”, as if we could understand him any better.
The worst part of the Red Line are the bumps and uneven tracks. Bumps on train tracks? “Did we just go over a POTHOLE?” I’ve often wondered. Sometimes, when a train comes to a complete stop (Yes, they often come to a complete stop and then sit still for minutes at a time) it leaves the passengers leaning one way or other, pressed up against the glass and each other, as if we’re parked on the bank of a race track.
I wish that were all. Sometimes the train delays cause them to run so far apart - and the signs showing arrival times are often dead - that the platforms fill up with such crowds that people can’t get off the train when it stops. The doors open but nobody can move. There’s nowhere to go. And the doors don’t stay open long enough for the passengers to sort through the mess. They mercilessly snap shut tight, separating people from their briefcases and parents from their kids.
If this weren’t enough, there are always dozens of escalators out of service at any given moment throughout the system. Sometimes there are multiples out in one station, causing people to have to walk up or down long, 200 foot sections of escalator. I’ve watched women wince as they painfully do this in heels. I saw one woman with a swollen, obviously injured ankle, navigate the long descent at Dupont Circle one slow step at a time. She was crying by the time she reached the bottom.
I once sat in the forward-most seat on the train and watched the driver through the one clear section of glass. I watched him for about six stops. (including those surrounding the accident) He wasn’t doing much. To my surprise, he wasn’t driving the train. The system was entirely automated with the train starting and stopping on its own. This, apparently, leaves the drivers bored and in need of a diversion to entertain themselves. Sometimes the drivers carry on conversations with other Metro employees who, from what I’ve seen, frequently come to visit (sometimes more than once on my 11-station trip). This particular driver just sat and played air drums during the trips between stations and then got up to, dutifully, check out the window to watch the passengers exit and enter before he sat down for his next set.
The news of cause for this accident hasn’t come in yet, but it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if one train jumped the tracks at one of those “potholes” and was subsequently rear-ended by another piloted by an air drummer or baseball game listener who wasn’t paying attention.
I hate to say it, but sometimes someone has to get hurt, or killed, before incompetence is dealt with.
Hopefully this will be a turning point.




