Remembering Bruce
There are millions of people in the world and any of them could become great friends. That was the belief I had when I drove a public transit bus. I didn’t hesitate to start a conversation with people who rode my bus.
I drove bus for the city of Clinton MTA for 25 years. I loved the job. It was a union job with good pay and good benefits. I got to know a lot of people who were regular bus riders. Many of these people I would see day after day, good weather and bad. I got to know their routines and they got to know my driving habits. I would see the same people at the same corners and usually at the same time of day. I would stop for a bathroom break or to get something to drink, on the same trip at the same time everyday. Those who road my bus daily, knew where I was or what I was going to do before I even did it. In this case, habits were good things. I would expect to see the regulars at certain corners at certain times. If they weren’t there or didn’t show up, I would wonder why.
I got to know an elderly gentleman named Bruce and his wife Virginia. Bruce would catch the bus daily at the same corner on the 9:30 trip. Bruce was a genuinely nice guy. Everybody loved him. He would get on the bus and greet everybody with a wave and a smile. He would say, “how is everybody today?” And he would really want to know. Bruce would listen to other people as they told him all about their aches and pains or what their grandchildren were up to. They would chit chat about the weather, sports and world affairs. When he got off the bus, he would say something like, I’m going to have a cup of coffee with the guys while we solve the world’s problems, see you later.
Bruce and his wife, would ride the bus downtown to eat lunch, get groceries or just to go for a walk down by the river. Bruce used to tease her about robbing the cradle. Bruce was four years younger than she was. He was 81 and she was 85. One day Bruce got on the bus alone and said that he was going to visit Virginia at The Alverno, a local convalescent home. She had a stroke and couldn’t walk or talk very well. Bruce had wanted to take care of her at home, but he lacked the ability to make sure she got everything she needed. Bruce was sure it wouldn’t be too long, and Virginia would be back home.
One day I pulled up to Bruce’s corner and he wasn’t there. I knew he had to go and visit Virginia. After all, he had been doing so every day for almost two years. I looked up the street and then I looked down the street. I checked my watch to make sure my timing was right. I was actually a few minutes late. I looked again. Still no Bruce. Reluctantly I drove away and resumed my route.
I picked up Alice a couple blocks down the road, I asked her if she had seen Bruce. She said no. We were both concerned about the frail elderly gentleman. When I pulled into the Central Transfer Point, Bruce was sitting on a bench. I went over and gave him a hug. I told him I was worried about him when he didn’t show up at his corner. Bruce laughed and said he had a doctor’s appointment, and his neighbor gave him a ride to the clinic.
A few weeks later, on a Monday, Bruce missed the bus again. I didn’t see him all week, until he rode on Friday. When he got on the bus, I told him we all missed him and asked where he had been. He told me that Virginia had passed away and he just didn’t feel like going anywhere. I told him how sorry I was that he had lost his wife and if I could do anything for him, he should just let me know.
He said he had to go out that day because he was heading to the doctor’s office. He was very quiet and didn’t talk at all. A few days later Bruce started riding the bus again, just to get out of the house. Bruce continued to ride and eventually got back to being the friendly chatty guy I had come to know over the years.
He also had more frequent medical appointments. He would go to Medical Associates and Mercy Hospital. He told me one day that he had stomach cancer. He had good days and bad days but his mood was always cheerful. He had surgery to remove most of his stomach. After the surgery he spent several weeks gaining his strength back and he seemed to make a full recovery.
Through it all Bruce kept his sense of humor and his courteous manners. After several months went by, things had returned to normal. I almost forgot that Bruce had ever had cancer. I kept picking him up at his corner, he would always say something about the weather and chat with everybody on the bus. We would share laughs and somber moments and things were good.
Bruce’s health slowly began to deteriorate. He would sometimes have a hard time climbing onto the bus. On those days, I would release the air pressure, kneeling the bus, making it easier for him to get on and off. He never said anything, but he always gave me a grateful smile.
A week before Christmas Bruce gave me a card. I said, “Thanks Bruce and Merry Christmas to you!” I put the card in a tote bag that carried my personal things. I used to get a bunch of cards and a few candy canes every year at Christmas time. I didn’t even open the envelope to look at the card because I was running late all day.
During the week of Christmas, I was on vacation. Taking a weeks’ vacation was always a big relief for me. I never realized how much stress I had, until I was able to relax during vacation time. We usually never went anyplace, but I had time to catch up on all the stuff I had been putting off.
The Friday before my vacation started, when I got home from work, I stepped inside the door, took off my shoes, threw my coat over the back of a dining room chair and dropped my tote bag on the floor next to the chair.
Saturday, we went to see a movie at the theatre. When we got home, Cheri said, “What are you going to do with that tote bag?” That was her way of telling me to put it away. I decided to clean out the bag so it would be all ready for work when my vacation was over.
There was a half bag of Doritos, a couple candy canes and a handful of cards. I opened and read each card. They were all from the nice passengers that kept me company on the bus. The last card I opened was from Bruce. It made me think of the hard couple years he had endured.
When I opened the card there was a $50 gift card for Applebees inside. I smiled to myself and thought Bruce you can’t afford that. Afterall, he was a senior citizen, living on Social Security. My parents also live on Social Security. I know it is hard to make ends meet. Inside the card Bruce had written “Merry Christmas to you and your wife. Always cherish her. You never know when you will lose her.” That choked me up a bit.
I thought about the city policy on accepting gifts. I knew I would have to return it and explain that as a city employee, I could not accept anything worth more than $2.99. When I returned to work, I took the gift card with me so I could give it back to Bruce.
Monday Bruce was not at his corner. Tuesday he wasn’t there either. When he didn’t show up Wednesday, I was getting worried. I picked-up Alice at her corner another block down the street and asked her if she had seen Bruce. She said that she was out of town for Christmas and hadn’t seen him since before she left.
A few blocks later Mary got on the bus and said it was terrible to hear that Bruce had passed away. That news hit me like a ton of bricks. I had not expected it. I said “I didn’t know that. What happened?” Mary said, “He passed away on Christmas Day. She had stopped at his house on Christmas Eve to give him a pecan pie that she had baked for him.” She said, “He was unable to get up from his chair in the front room and his breathing was very shallow.”
She called for an ambulance and they took Bruce to the hospital. Mary and her husband drove up to the hospital and left their phone number, explaining that Bruce had no relatives. She asked them to please call her if they needed anything. On Christmas day a nurse called her and let her know that Bruce had died about 5:30 on Christmas morning.
Bruce had no family and there were no services to celebrate the life of that sweet lonely old gentleman. I still had the gift card, I decided to use it to remember our friend. I invited Alice and Mary, two of Bruce’s closest friends, to join me and my wife at Applebee’s. I told them it was on Bruce.
We had a great meal and shared stories about our old bus buddy. Thanks Bruce, for cheering up my workdays. I’ll never forget the kindness you showed me and the countless passengers on the old Ninth Avenue Hill Line.