12/01/2009 Step Aboard the CTA Holiday Train! Ho Ho Ho
In riding the train home this evening, I saw a sign posted inside the car that confirmed that the holidays are definitely here. For you Chicagoans, you know what this is. Yes- the Chicago Transit Authority Holiday Train is on its way! For those of you that have never witnessed this spectacle before, it is quite the sight to behold. And as a new resident of the Roscoe Village neighborhood, I think I may have a very good chance of spotting the holiday train this year during my morning and evening brown line escapades.
Three Decembers ago during our first Christmas season in Chicago, my parents came in for a weekend visit. Now, perhaps I should preface this story with the explanation that anytime my parents ride the CTA with us, something weird happens. And by something, I really mean someONE. or someONES. Just this past weekend my mother ended up next to a raucous group of fifty-somethings on the brown line who were cracking open cans of Miller Lite on the train. I was half expecting her to be offered one. Apparently the whole high school concept of hiding these items in brown paper bags or pouring them into unmarked containers was lost on these folks. Where are the train police when you need them?
Anyways, back to 3 years ago- we had decided to take the #151 Sheridan bus downtown to Michigan Avenue. While standing at the corner of Diversey and Sheridan, we noticed a man calmly walk up to the bus stop. He stood outside the stop, rocking on his heels, seemingly minding his own business. He had shiny silver white hair that was cut chin-length with a center part and he wore a clean pressed pair of khakis with a coat. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the man began to speak. He spoke to no one in particular, though we noticed him making eye contact with the passers-by who watched him warily as the volume of his voice grew louder and louder, proclaiming how the "LORD HAS COME TO SAVE US ALL! AND THERE ARE MACHINE GUNS THAT MAKE 'DU DU DU DU DU' NOISES! AND GOD HAS MADE FOR US A PLACE TO HAVE GARDENS! " Yes, these were the things he was saying. And no, they made no sense. Keep in mind that my parents were with us, and that they had only come to visit us the city once before. Standing next to a crazy person on the street when you are not used to city shenanigans is not a very calming experience. Because it seemed that the man had chosen this corner for his quack church and out of fear of being selected for an exorcism, we ducked around him and made our way down to the next bus stop. The Wrightwood stop was a good choice. It was quiet. The "Preacher" as we called him during our remaining 3 years in Lincoln Park, did not follow us.
Minutes went by, and along came the bus. Well, not just any bus, but the CTA HOLIDAY BUS. Tinsel trimmed every window, which were spray painted with fake snow. Christmas music blared overhead. The yellow poles that line the CTA buses were all trimmed in candy cane ribbon and tied with a big bow at the top, while other bars had lights strung around them. Christmas cardboard cut-outs were stuck along any flat surface that was available. So you get the picture I hope. To add to this description, it is important for you to know that this bus was just PACKED full of people. The 151 bus frequently gets that way on weekends when everyone heads down to the Magnificent Mile for shopping, since there really are no train alternatives in that area. I've always hoped that the CTA would see this as a reason to create a train line going along the lakefront, a very underserved area when it comes to public transportation (reason #5, 432 that Chicago did not get the 2016 Olympics).
So to recap: It looked like a Christmas fairy had vomited all over the place. There was Christmas music blasting over the crappy speakers and people yelling over the noise. There were 300 people on the bus and no where to sit or move. My mom has bad knees and it's always such a pain in the butt when we get on a bus or train and there's no where for her to sit. The bus always bobs and sways and hits every rut and dip in the road so that you might as well be on some type of trampoline. We were forced to slowly creep our way toward the back of the bus with each stop as some people left and more piled in behind us. Finally we were able to get my mom a seat, and as my dad, husband and I became separated by a few rows each as we all ended up getting more and more squished toward the back. Because the music was so loud, it seemed that everyone on board was shouting. It was loud, and it was hot. He must have been quiet at first, from his seat in the very back of the bus. But then we heard it. "THE LORD BLESS YOU AND KEEP YOU AND THE ARCHANGEL GABRIEL TOLD THE SOLDIERS FEAR NOT! " I snapped my head toward my father, mouthing "Oh my god he's on the bus! " My father then turned his head to make eye contact with my husband, who then glanced over at my mother a few rows away. But my poor mother could not contribute at all, because it looked as though she had sat herself next to another somewhat-crazy individual, a woman who kept talking to her about something that we can't remember now (the Preacher used up all of our memory of that trip).
Over the past few years, Jim and I bumped into the Preacher quite often at the post he seemed to frequent most often at Diversey and Clark. At one time he cut his hair much shorter, then when we spotted him again it was even longer than it had been during that December bus ride. In the summers with our windows open we heard his voice cutting through the sirens and other city noises. But our favorite story is one that I am so sorry to have missed. Jim was walking home one day and heard the ever-familiar noise of the Preacher bellowing out his declarations. A police officer began walking over to tell him to beat it. Holding up his arm like a crossing guard, the Preacher yelled "STAND BACK LAWMAN! " Once onto the Mag Mile, the Preacher exited the bus and quietly walked away. Who knows what congregation of unassuming individuals became his new victims down in Streeterville. A few stops afterwards, we too left the bus. It pulled back into traffic, making everyone turn their heads to watch as it jingle-belled its way down Michigan Avenue.
