Tag Jackson says he's been told he must wait right by the bus stop sign when buses arrive so they know he's a rider. Not in the shelter. Not 10 feet away, on the sidewalk. Even if the bus stop sign is on gr
DEENA WINTER / Lincoln Journal Star | Posted: Sunday, September 30, 2007 7:00 pm
The brick apartment building just west of the Capitol would seem to hold hidden treasures. You picture hardwood floors, ornate woodwork, clawfoot tubs.
Even its name, spelled out in neon Coca-Cola-cursive, suggests its residents are treated royally:
The President.
But then you go inside and find none of the charm advertised by its exterior.
This is low-income housing.
Tag Jackson has no complaints — not since new management took over. The 32-year-old with cerebral palsy lives on the fourth floor in what must be called a studio apartment, a bedroom with a bathroom.
The mattress on the floor makes it easier for him to move from his power scooter to bed. CNN is talking about the war on a computer screen. A box on the desk contains a prized possession: every “Dukes of Hazzard” episode.
Just the good ol’ boys
Never meanin’ no harm
Those good ol’ boys were more than TV characters to him when he was a boy, stuck in bed recovering from a half-dozen surgeries on his legs to keep them from scissoring and spasming.
It took him a long time to learn to talk; at first, he communicated by pointing at symbols and, eventually, by using a typewriter.
“My brain knew what I wanted, but I was so frustrated that I couldn’t tell people. I didn’t know how to move the mouth.”
He’s learned to use his mouth quite well. He’s the kind of guy prone to yelling “Yeeee-haw!” while wheeling down ramps on street corners. Not everybody gets a General Lee.
Tag lives on his own. He pays his bills. He built his own computer and repairs them for others. He’s making his way.
He moved into The President because it’s across the street from a major bus stop.
He can ride the buses almost anywhere, and he does.
Unless they pass him by.
Which he says they sometimes do.
Like the time he was at Best Buy on 48th and R. The driver of the last bus of the day apparently didn’t see him, and Tag had to ride home on his scooter.
His scooter will run for up to 11 miles before running out of juice. Which is why it’s a good thing the Old Country Buffet let him recharge his battery, belly and spirit on his way home.
Sometimes, he says, bus drivers don’t seem to realize he’s waiting for a ride.
He says he’s been told he must wait right by the bus stop sign when buses arrive so they know he’s a rider. Not in the shelter. Not 10 feet away, on the sidewalk. Even if the bus stop sign is on grass, and you use a scooter that works better on concrete. Especially on a rainy day, when dirt turns to mud, and there you are, stuck in the mud, while other passengers are boarding.
What do you do then?
Straight’nin’ the curve,
Flat’nin’ the hills.
What Tag Jackson does is “scream, cry, beg” — whatever it takes to convince someone to help him get out of the mud and onto the bus.
He says he’s been left behind while trying to maneuver his scooter into place. He’s watched elderly people struggle to catch the bus.
“Drivers are not giving people time,” he says.
StarTran head Larry Worth has no way of knowing if Tag is correct, he says; he hasn’t heard such complaints. But Worth says there’s no rule that riders must be right by the bus stop and, in fact, it’s easier to lower the ramp onto concrete than grass or snow.
Miss the bus, and you’re looking at a half-hour to an hour wait for the next one — unless you were waiting for the last bus of the day, which is when Tag says drivers seem to be in a particular hurry.
He estimates he’s been left behind 20 to 40 times in the eight years he’s ridden the bus.
It’s possible drivers didn’t see him. He also thinks it’s possible they just didn’t want to mess with the guy on the scooter — the guy who takes a little longer to get on the bus.
One driver betrayed his feelings on a rainy day about a month ago, he says, when Tag caught the O Street shuttle but struggled to make the turn into the aisle because his tires were wet.
“The driver said ‘You’re taking too long to board,’” Tag says. “He said ‘You should call HandiVan.’”
HandiVan is a curb-to-curb bus service for disabled people who can’t use StarTran buses. But you’ve got to call a day in advance, and Tag doesn’t work that way.
“Hell no! I’m not going to plan my day around somebody else’s.”
He got off the bus after being chastised by the driver. And drove straight to the StarTran offices to complain. Worth said he could find no record of Tag’s visit.
According to the Americans with Disabilities Act, disabled people can’t be forced to use a special bus service like HandiVan if they can use the regular one. And drivers are not supposed to be rude or rush people with disabilities.
But when confronted with Tag’s complaint, Worth said what really irritates him is that dealers sell scooters and wheelchairs bigger than what the ADA requires public buses to accommodate. The ADA says the buses must be able to handle “common wheelchairs,” which it defines as up to 30 inches wide and 48 inches long.
But wheelchairs and scooters have come a long way since the ADA was passed in 1990. Not all manufacturers stick to those measurements.
“What doesn’t meet ADA is his device,” Worth said of Tag’s scooter. “It’s too big. The buses are the right size.”
Still, he applauds the fact that Tag prefers to ride StarTran, rather than the more expensive HandiVan.
The city worked with Tag a few years ago when the new buses were difficult for wheelchairs to navigate. Worth thinks Tag just has “issues with certain drivers.”
“He’s kind of a hard-headed guy, to be honest with you,” Worth said.
But Tag’s complaints were buttressed by eight other people who live in his apartment building, who said they’ve been left behind by drivers. Allan Lecus said drivers assume if you’re not right at the stop, you’re not riding.
“They just fly right on by,” Chuck Kehr said.
They made it clear that not all bus drivers are like the one who allegedly was rude to Tag.
Most are good. The kind Tag considers friends. The kind who open the door and holler at him if he’s near a stop, just to make sure he’s not getting on. The kind who drop him off closer to his home because it’s their last run and nobody else is on the bus.
It’s the ones who don’t really look to see if he — or someone elderly or slow — is waiting for the bus, he says. They’re either not paying attention or don’t want to be slowed down. After all, they have a schedule to keep.
The other day, the motor went out on Tag’s scooter, and he got a new one.
A three-wheeler that boards the buses without a problem.
To hell with the HandiVan.
Makin’ their way,
The only way they know how
Reach Deena Winter at 473-2642 or dwinter@journalstar.com.