A Handicapped Woman Rides the DART Train in Dallas,
TX
s I weaved through the throng of passengers making our
way to the DART (Dallas Area Rapid Transit) shuttle bus, I heard a
noisy, screeching metal-on-stone sound that interrupted the otherwise
peaceful procession. “What on earth IS that?” I wondered to myself.
Looking around, I spotted an old woman determinedly pushing her walker
through the crowd. The walker had front wheels, but the rear rubber
pads in back had long since been ground away and the woman was making do
with what she had, noisy or not. I was immediately struck by the fact
that she was far behind the rest of the passengers and it didn’t appear
that anyone felt compelled to give her first priority—in spite of her
advanced age. Why was she so
far behind while the remainder of the crowd was already in the process
of boarding the bus?
How did we get here? Let’s rewind.
Friday is my “early” day to leave
for work because I need to get off in time to make it home before
Sabbath begins. To do that, I need to catch the 5:45 AM train that
takes me to downtown Dallas. That gets me to work well before the
start of my 7:00 shift – unless there are unforeseen issues. A couple of years
ago, for example, we had an “ice storm,” with freezing rain coating the
overhead lines that are needed to power the train. DART whipped into
action, supplying special shuttle buses to take passengers downtown. I
will here give DART credit for quickly responding to emergency
situations. I say this even though they left me stranded in downtown
Dallas the night the Dallas police officers were shot. That was totally
beyond their control. I am also reminded of one particularly trying
situation when, again on my way to work, we had to exit the train and
take a special shuttle the rest of the way, and that experience has some
bearing on what I’m about to share. At first, no one knew why we were
being forced off the train, which was certainly an inconvenience,
especially since I was eventually late for work that day. However, word
soon spread that a woman had been stabbed at the next station. Clearly
and with excellent reason, DART had to keep that area secure, so they
had no choice but to stop the train short of the station where the
criminal activity had occurred. On the shuttle, there was still some
confusion about why we were being bussed the rest of the way to
downtown. Not everyone had heard the news about the stabbing. At one
point, I overheard a woman behind me complaining about how ridiculous it
was that we were being bussed and why couldn’t they have taken us the
rest of the way by train? The passenger next to her replied, “There was
a woman stabbed at Pearl station.”
“What does that have to do with
ME!?” the woman snarled.
As soon as she asked that question,
the noisy hum of the bus kinda stopped, or maybe I was just so stunned
by her remark, combined with the tone of her voice, that everything seemed
to stop, including all surrounding noise. I realize that in
every crowd, there are bound to be a few folks who are just not nice or,
as with the above situation, folks who are not only unkind, but they
think it’s all about THEM. Never mind that a fellow human being had
been stabbed and was fighting for her life. Do unkind people think
about such things?
Okay, back to my 5:45 AM Friday
train adventure. As I mentioned earlier, that 40-minute train ride to
downtown Dallas gets me to work well in advance of the start of my shift
– barring unforeseen circumstances, and guess what? Something
unforeseen happened. We were told that our train would take us to
Galatyn Park station, but from there we would need to take a shuttle bus
to Arapaho station because a car was stuck on the tracks between the two
stations. How could a car get stuck on the tracks and why couldn’t they
just push it out of the way? Well, I have no idea, so I guess things
are sometimes a little more complicated than they may seem on the
surface. Like how did a semi truck end up straddling the median
separating the northbound and southbound lanes of I-635 that one night
when I drove a friend home? Really – it was perched up on the median
facing the wrong way with its wheels a good three feet off of the road.
So maybe the car stuck on the tracks was that kind of complicated.
Well, I reasoned that if it’s a quick exit from the train to a waiting
shuttle bus, there shouldn’t be any problem making it to work on time,
so I just sighed and boarded the train.
The waiting shuttle was a welcome
sight as I made my way there along with a host of other passengers. I
really hadn’t anticipated that big of a crowd for a 6:00 train, so I was
surprised to see probably around 100 people accompanying me towards the
bus. I thought, “I hope DART has another bus ready because this one’s
going to fill up fast!” That’s when I heard the noise. It was the
screeching walker – and the old woman pushing it – that thrust me into
the reality of a degrading society.
In my utopian mindset, I imagined
that one by one, the ambling passengers would say, “Oh, excuse me,
ma’am, please let me help you to the bus!” and “Here, please get in
front of me!” But Utopia doesn’t really exist – and it certainly wasn’t
the nickname of that Dallas neighborhood on that day. It most certainly
wasn’t even found on DART’s map. I approached the woman with the walker
and asked her if I could be of any help. She smiled and said she was
okay, but that she would appreciate it if I could help her carry her
bags. She gave me two cloth bags that had handles. They were more
bulky than heavy and she had another bag hanging from the bar of her
walker. It turns out another man had already offered to help her and he
was carrying two other bags for her. That’s right, someone else wanted
to help the woman make it to the bus. Seeing that the man was already
looking after her, I hurried to the bus as the passengers climbed
aboard. A DART employee was directing passengers and making certain
everyone was where they were supposed to be. I interrupted her to
inform her that there was a disabled woman trying to make her way to the
bus. She gave me a look that said, “Not my problem,” but she
nevertheless seemed to acknowledge my words, so I thought she might take
some action to ensure that the old woman would at least be given
priority seating on the bus. However, I never saw that DART employee
again and a minute later the bus was full and it began pulling out. If
I was surprised that passengers hadn’t been beckoning the disabled woman
to be first on the bus, I was shocked that DART apparently doesn’t make
catering to handicapped individuals a priority.
What I witnessed reminded me of the
lame man in the book of John, chapter five who waited by the pool of
Bethesda for 38 years before Yeshua finally came along and healed him.
As incredible as the account is, it seems that an angel would stir the
pool and whoever the first one was to enter after the stirring of the
waters would be healed. If you weren’t able-bodied enough to be first,
then you simply missed out:
After this there was
a feast of the Jews, and Yeshua
went up to Jerusalem. 2 Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a
pool, which is called in Hebrew, Bethesda, having five porches. 3 In
these lay a great multitude of sick people, blind, lame, paralyzed,
waiting for the moving of the water. 4 For an angel went down at a
certain time into the pool and stirred up the water; then whoever
stepped in first, after the stirring of the water, was made well of
whatever disease he had. 5 Now a certain man was there who had an
infirmity thirty-eight years.6 When Yeshua saw him lying there, and knew
that he already had been in that condition a long time, He said to
him, “Do you want to be made well?”
7 The
sick man answered Him, “Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when
the water is stirred up; but while I am coming, another steps down
before me.”
8 Yeshua
said to him, “Rise, take up your bed and walk.” 9 And immediately the
man was made well, took up his bed, and walked.
I regarded the woman in the walker
in much the same way as the lame man at the pool – the “Survival of the
Fittest” mentality, and she most certainly wasn’t the fittest person
around, which is why she was left behind while everyone else boarded the
bus.
So we waited for the next bus. Ten
minutes or so later it showed up. The poor old woman needed a special
“lift” to be lowered so she could climb on board. However, the
surrounding passengers didn’t want to wait around for any special
devices to interrupt their path to the bus, so they began making their
way past the woman so they could find a nice seat for themselves. The
bus was nearly full when the driver decided to lower the lift thing or
whatever it’s called. By now the disabled woman had been standing for
around a half hour. To one of the passengers’ credit, he quickly gave
up his seat on the bus so my new friend could sit, then someone else
gave up their seat so I could sit next to her. That was nice of them,
but I still cannot help but ask, “Why didn’t they insist that she board
the bus FIRST?”
At Arapaho station, we had to walk
from the bus loading area to the train station. Of course, all the
passengers exited the bus FIRST, so the disabled woman and I ended up
bringing up the rear. Actually, by the time we got off the bus the
other passengers were already out of sight. Where did they go? I had
never been to Arapaho station before so I was unfamiliar with my new
surroundings, which left me at a great disadvantage because the train
station was nowhere in sight. I asked a DART employee, who pointed in a
general direction and left me to figure it out on my own. It turns out
there’s this ramp that runs about 100 feet in one direction, then you
double back for another 100 feet. The ramp gradually inclines in such a
way that by the time you reach the end, you’re at the train station. I
will spare the details of the ordeal the old woman and I went through to
make it to the top of that ramp. I will only state that I’m pretty sure
I could have crawled the length of that ramp and still made it to the
top before she did. Nevertheless, when we finally made it, a train was
there waiting! Hooray!
As I walked past the front of the
train, I made eye contact with the conductor and pointed behind me to
the woman who was screeching along with her walker as fast as she could
– which admittedly wasn’t very fast. As I made my way to the closed
train doors, I was about to press the button that would open them when I
detected movement. Say what? That’s right, the train was
pulling out without us!
Needless to say, DART was not
scoring many points with either me or my poor, tired handicapped
friend. I realized at this juncture that it would be a long shot for me
to make it to work on time. In fact, upon checking the time, I now
realized that it would be impossible to make it to work on time.
Waiting for the next train was yet
another disappointing glimpse into the character of a deteriorating
society. Our next task was to find this poor woman a place to rest her
weary feet on one of the many seats located at the rear of the
platform. But all the available seats at the station were already
occupied by folks who apparently thought their feet were more worthy of
a break than hers was. We walked past several resting patrons when I
spotted a vacancy! I offered the empty seat to the woman and she
wasted no time in accepting my offer. A very kind young lady was seated
next to her and when she saw that I was a chaperone to a handicapped
woman, she quickly emerged from her seat and offered it to me. She may
have thought that we were related or maybe she thought I was the woman’s
caregiver. Regardless, the world needs more people like that young
lady! As we waited, I texted my manager to let him know that I would
definitely be late for work. I had previously texted him at 5:54 AM to
inform him of the circumstances. At that early hour, I knew that I
would most likely make to work it on time – barring any additional
“unforeseen circumstances.” But by now an hour had elapsed since that
initial text to my manager; unforeseen circumstances seemed to be
governing the day!
The next train eventually arrived
and everyone at the station insisted that my handicapped friend be the
first to board. OH, I’M SORRY!! Did I just tell a fib? Yes, I lied.
Incredible as it may seem to those of us who were raised to offer
priority assistance to old or disabled people, the throng at the Arapaho
station had no qualms walking past this old and disabled woman who was
dependent on a walker to get anywhere. By the time we made it on board,
all seats were taken. By now, I was more than a little frustrated, so I
spoke up. “Someone should let this woman have a seat!” Immediately two
women got out of their seats, as though they had been completely unaware
that a handicapped woman had been trying to get on board. I was at
least thankful that those two women had consciences. I’m not so sure
about the other passengers. I got the impression that some of them
would have responded to my comment with, “What does that have to do with
ME?”
With the train rolling along to the
next stop, I knew that my disabled friend needed to disembark at what
was now the second station past where we got on board. Upon our
arrival, I quickly grabbed all four of her bags and deposited them at a
safe place where she would then be on her own and have to find a way to
get them to her destination. I hated to have to leave her there, but
that’s where my obligation had to end, as distressing as it was to know
that there would probably be no one there to help her make it to
wherever it was she needed to go next. I helped her maneuver her walker
off the train and onto the platform, but before I got back on the train,
she extended her arms to embrace me. What a kind gesture of
appreciation! I knew it would have to be quick, but I returned the hug
and wished her the very best. As I was about to reenter the train, the
doors suddenly closed. I pushed the button, but it was once again too
late! The train pulled out and left me behind! Oh, no!
Not
again! Yes, again!
Let’s see, that makes one bus and
two trains that I missed!
Temporarily stranded again with my
disabled friend, I helped her bring her bags to a nearby elevator that
would take us down to the bus stop where she would need to catch a bus
for her next destination – or adventure. She told me her hugs are “bad
luck” for me, but I gave her one anyway, partly because I don’t believe
in “luck,” but mostly because my heart goes out to her and anyone in her
type of situation. As we hugged, I suddenly heard the next train
pulling into the station overhead, so I ran full speed to the top of the
stairs and onto the platform. Believe it or not, this time I made it in
time before the doors closed!
After my harrowing ordeal, I was
only a half hour late for work. As they say, “No good deed goes
unpunished,” and my reward for helping a woman in need was to be given a
“tardy” at my place of employment. I’m not sure how many tardies
employees are allowed, but I know that doing a few more “good deeds” may
result in my termination.
From the incredible experience of
witnessing throngs of people willfully leaving a handicapped woman “in
the dust” all the way down to my getting a “tardy” in spite of such
extenuating circumstances, I got a bitter taste of an ancient prophecy:
“And because iniquity will abound, the love of many shall wax cold.”
(Matthew 24:12) Yeshua, in that one verse, brilliantly summarized
the state of affairs as that disabled woman and I experienced them on
that warm, yet cold, September 2016 day in Dallas, Texas.
The Apostle Paul also warned Timothy
about a time then in the future: “This know also, that in the last days
perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves,
covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents,
unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false
accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good,
traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of the
Almighty; having a form of righteousness, but denying the power thereof:
from such turn away!” (2 Timothy 3:1-5)
The future is now.
I know that there was a time when
people would have been surprised to hear the story I just recounted
here. As this nation and society erodes deeper into the slimy pit of
secularism and thumbs its collective nose at the Creator, this type of
account has subsequently lost its shock value. The world I was raised
in had its share of bumps and bruises, but by and large people would sit
up and take notice whenever an old or handicapped individual was present
and in need of assistance. They would do more than take notice; they
would take action. I’m sure there are still places around where that is
the reaction to those who, like my disabled friend, need a helping hand
or priority seating. But is Dallas, TX one of those places? Not at the
DART stations and DO NOT count on DART employees to offer any
assistance.
My daughter says, “Trust me, it’s
not limited to DART!” In fact, when I sent her a brief text summarizing
my experience while on my way home later that day, she expressed her own
lack of surprise at the ordeal that my disabled friend experienced. She
wrote, “I learned way back when I was 14 and on crutches for the first
time that people are perfectly willing to run over a disabled person.
Some don’t care if they kill you. Our society is very unrighteous.”
I did not compose this commentary to
sound the alarm for our society or our nation to wake up and smell the
coffee or to otherwise repent and start caring for those who are less
blessed than they are. Of course, that would be a terrific reaction and
if this article causes just one person to start making a positive
difference, then it was more than worth the time I put in to write it!
Nevertheless, I sense that the time for sounding the alarm is now
passed, so this article will primarily serve as a confirmation that we
are definitely entrenched in the “end times.” For those of you who may
still be living in a bubble or find yourselves otherwise removed from
the fact that our nation is already based on a secular “me first”
mindset, hopefully you will think again. And then make a difference.
Please don’t fulfill the prophecies of such passages as Matthew 24:12 or
2 Timothy 3:1-5.
