Taking the bus

So how did we actually get to school in the morning?  Many of us took the bus.  I would catch the Montrose bus one stop east of Cicero Avenue at the Blue Line train.  That was also when I started getting into the habit of grabbing a newspaper in the morning whenever I had a quarter in my pocket.  That’s how much the Sun Times and the Tribune were back in the late 1980’s.  This was my initial exposure to Chicago print journalism and the writers that I began to read with some consistency:  Bernie Lincecome, Terry Boers, Fred Mitchell, and Sam Smith were the main sports writers that covered the Bears, Bulls, Cubs, and White Sox at the time.

I’d grab a newspaper, jump on the bus, show my student pass which allowed for a reduced fair and grabbed a seat.  It was about a 30-minute ride or thereabouts to the Ravenswood stop.  When I wasn’t reading over the sports section and examining the box scores, I tended to observe and take notice of my surroundings and the ride along Montrose Avenue through Jefferson and Albany Park gave me plenty to take in.  There would be people going to work, mothers with their small children, and of course students from other schools.  You know, schools that unlike G.O. were actually known to the general public.  I vividly remember this girl who would get on the bus, long light brown hair, olive skin, soft features but intelligent eyes.  Yeah, she definitely caught my attention.  She would often wear a sleek black jacket.  In retrospect I would describe her look as understated and classy.  I would look forward each morning to seeing her get on the bus and take her seat toward the front.  I would steal glances every now and then as I’d look up from my paper pretending to simply look up.  I don’t think that I ever got a look back.  She would get off at Western avenue, which meant that she probably attended Lane High School.  She always made the morning bus ride a more pleasant experience.

One of the more enduring memories was how cold it would be waiting for the bus on winter mornings and how desolate that bus stop right above the Montrose Blue Line train stop was.  I also remember late in the school year when everything came into bloom, the lush green leaves on the trees as the bus passed Welles Park on Montrose and Lincoln.   

Rides in the morning were by the numbers for the most part, but the rides home after school with John, Jonathon and Reggie were almost always more eventful.  One occasion in particular stands out.  We had gotten onto the bus and made our way to the back as we normally did.  When we sat down, we immediately noticed that across from us was someone we had never seen before.  I don’t mean a person that we didn’t know.  I mean a person who we weren’t quite sure was a man or a woman.  They had makeup on and a feminine blouse, but there was something distinctly manly about this person as well.  Maybe it was the hints of a five o’clock shadow or an Adam’s apple.  Initially, we were very quiet and tried not to stare but soon we were whispering to each other and giggling.  Our fellow passenger was beginning to grow increasingly annoyed with our staring and muffled laughing.  They began with some justification to call us out.  I don’t remember their exact words, but it was to the effect of, “What are you turkeys looking at?  I will whip your ass!”.   

We were bewildered, amused, but also uncertain and off balance.  This unique individual kept up a running commentary for practically the entire bus ride, muttering their grievances and directing jibes our way, “Goofy ass white boy.  I will teach you something……turkey!”  The insults and threats only served to feed into the situation as we fought an increasingly one-sided battle to keep from laughing.  Finally, Reggie stood up and asked out loud in a silly, high pitched, exaggerated voice, “Excuse me, are you a Trans-Sexual?”  Tim Curry would have been hard pressed to better Reggie’s delivery.  He had timed his question as the bus was pulling to a stop.  We jumped up laughing uncontrollably at Reggie’s nerve and immediately rushed to the side door exit to make our escape.  You had to wait for the light to flash green before you could push the side door open.  The problem was that they were beginning to get up and come toward us!  We weren’t waiting for the damn light, in our panicked delirium we just pushed and pushed until the green light came on and we spilled out of the bus.  I’m not sure what would have happened if our disgruntled fellow passenger had gotten a hold of us, but I’m glad we didn’t find out.  In retrospect it probably wasn’t our finest hour.  However, it’s important to recognize that this was 31 years ago and we wouldn’t of had any frame of reference for a transgender person outside of ……Boy George? 

Looking back, the person on the bus probably had some mental health issues as well.  For Gospel Outreach, this type of individual was a sinner engaging in behavior considered abhorrent and worthy of eternal condemnation.  There wouldn’t have been a lot of gray area or room for discussion.  Tolerance and understanding would not have been a prominent part of the church’s teachings.

Each year we would have to buy a student CTA pass that would be valid for the school year.  Students could then ride for a reduced fare.  My student bus pass had a yellow background with my basic info and a photo.  The beginnings of facial hair, a few pimples, and my unibrow were all in effect.  That’s right, a unibrow.