Heard on a train

I hate driving. About two years ago, I changed jobs to from working at a Metro East hospital to working for the WashU School of Medicine, which is on the other side of the river from me. Since my day job is more than a half-hour drive from where I live (we moved from O'Fallon to Belleville late last year, but it didn't help), I ride the train to work. It's a great way to catch up on my sleep (I have alarms set to wake me before my stop). So, yesterday afternoon I was on the train as usual, when suddenly there was some loud banging along the bottom of the carriage, between the Memorial Hospital and Swansea stops.

I never found out what caused the banging, but it damaged the train, which almost immediately came to a hard stop. The operator tried to get it moving a couple of times, but the train only went a couple of feet, shuddered slightly, and stopped again. A couple of passengers muttered about getting out and walking, but I knew that was not going to happen (Metro St. Louis would never allow it). The conductor got out and looked under the train. A few minutes later, the train going in the other direction passed us in the tracks for the opposite direction. Then, after a few minutes more, a train going in our direction also passed us on those tracks. I wasn't watching the clock, but since the trains come every 12 minutes, and there would be delays from cross-tracking, I knew we had been stuck for at least 15 minutes.

Then a woman walked by me, talking about how her three-year-old might get stuck at home by themself. I believe she was the only one who actually asked the conductor to be let off so she go get to her child, but she was told no. She walked back to her seat.

The conductor went to the back of our car to try something, and we moved backwards a little, but that was it. She returned to the front. Another Metro employee appeared on the walking path a few yards from the train, on the other side of the fence. She couldn't reach us, of course, but she and the conductor exchanged a few words. Two more trains passed us, one in each direction. It had been close to half an hour now.

The mother of the three-year-old walked by me again, and I heard groans and sighs of aggravation from a few passengers around me. The mother again asked to be let off the train, and the argument was briefly heated. The mother again returned to her seat, accompanied by a couple of more groans, disparaging comments whispered to neighbors, and stares.

Finally, a train pulled up on the opposite-direction tracks, and stopped. We were evacuated onto the second train, and finally on our way again. The relief and anger on the mothers face as she got off at Swansea was easily visible.

I rarely see such a lack of sympathy toward a worried parent. I wonder if it was, at least in part, due to her being black.