Line 72
By Jessica Ravitz
"Here's your story. Look around you. What do you see?"
These were the words of Michael Travis, 40, of West Oakland, a preacher turned truck-driver who comfortably slumped down in his seat aboard AC Transit Line 72. For 45 minutes on a Tuesday afternoon, Travis offered unsolicited social commentary as the bus wound its way from El Cerrito to Oakland on San Pablo Avenue.
Travis, who is black, spoke of race relations and segregation, and predicted accurately when whites would board and leave the crowded bus. By 35th Avenue in Oakland, what Travis called "the most famous place in the world for pimping" most whites were gone. He bemoaned the traps awaiting black passengers, like a young man whose breath reeked of alcohol, or Eddie and Tony, two 16-year-olds who spent the day trolling a mall in search of girls, instead of attending school.
"We go everywhere they are," said Tony. "Here are some getting on the bus right now, but if they're ugly, I'm not going to talk to them."
"Even if they aren't [ugly], he won't say a word. Just you watch him," said Eddie.
Sure enough, the girls were beautiful. And Tony was silent.
For nearly16 miles, the 72 travels from the Hilltop Mall in Richmond to the Oakland Amtrak station, making about 80 stops in between. It has been in operation since AC Transit took over Key System in 1961, although public transportation on San Pablo Avenue dates back to the 1890s.
Of the 150 bus lines that blanket the East Bay, the 72 is one of the main north-south connectors, drawing its largest number of passengers between 9 a.m. and 3:00 p.m. During peak hours, the line is served by 27 drivers, said Gary Ward, scheduling manager for AC Transit.
One of those drivers is "Sand," a 19-year veteran of the agency. Like many AC drivers, she refused to give her full name. She said she loves her job, the freedom of it and most especially the people she meets. But she cautioned about getting too close to the customers. "If you get too friendly with passengers," she said, "they might follow you home!"
This concern, while she joked about it, is also rooted in fear. She became serious as she recounted a story of when she had to call the police because a fight broke out between two passengers on her bus. "It was really scary because you can't control other people," said Sand. "And AC policy says we cannot get out of our seats."
But for the most part, passengers on 72 are simply living their lives. They are gaggles of high school students, commuters, occasional lovers embraced in kisses, and everyday folks like Travis, returning to his home this afternoon in Oakland.
As the bus neared his destination, Travis leaned over and smiled at a little boy buried beneath his brightly colored backpack.
"You're cool. You're going to school. You're going to be smart, learn your ABCs," he said to the boy.
And then to himself, he mused, "He's getting started early. He's getting ready."
The wise preacher stepped off the bus at 33rd Avenue. As the 72 rolled on, it passed countless liquor stores, signs that read "under video surveillance," and an elderly man sleeping on a bench. And as Travis suggested, each image told a story