Mortal Fear: A Bus?

It’s one of the many phrases we use that we don’t usually mean. “I have a mortal fear of caffeine!” someone exclaims. And since you are exceptionally unlikely to die from ingesting caffeine, this is a highly exaggerated statement.

On the other hand, if you hear someone state, “I have a mortal fear of snakes,” that could be taken as truth. If the someone is speaking of a rattlesnake. Which can kill. But a garter snake…well, while I would take off at a run in the complete opposite direction of said garter snake, a meeting with it would probably not result in anything closely resembling the lack or mortality.

Last week I was considering some travel options and stopped short of declaring I have a mortal fear of the Pittsburgh Bus System. The fact that it entails a Pittsburgh government entity aside (and therefore highly susceptible), the idea that I really am scared of the bus system made me stop short. I spent the entire four and half years of living in Pittsburgh avoiding a system that is used by most of the population for the simple fact that it took me the entire four and a half years of living in Pittsburgh to know where half the names blinking on the buses were even loosely located. But it’s not like figuring out a strange city is scary to me. The subway systems of New York, Boston or D.C have never once terrified me and in at least two of those cities, I knew nothing about my destination except markings on a map. So, I had to ask myself, why do I have a mortal fear of a bus when I view a subway system as a navigational challenge to be overcome?

I quickly dismissed the idea that, to use another turn of phrase, “I want you to know where my life insurance policy is held in case I get hit by a bus.” If I was to weigh it all in balance, I fear getting hit by an SUV more than a bus and I never even consider that when looking both ways to cross a street. And, again, I would fear an accident in my own vehicle much more than one on a bus. So, why do I really dislike the idea of taking a bus, not only in Pittsburgh but just about anywhere? It seems exceptionally silly.

And, truth be told, I don’t really have an answer to the question I asked myself. Some psychologist might be able to dig up something that happened to me way before any memories of my childhood actually take form. Because, if I’m honest, my deep seated fear of a bus starts way back when I was five…and I have a very clear memory of it. And, in actuality, it was not the bus itself I feared. It was the destination…or, rather, the journey…and the idea that I would get off at the wrong place.

In my memory, my first bus ride was to school. On the first day of Kindergarten, some warm August day in 1985 as I stood at the bottom of the driveway in Lewisburg, TN with my mom (and probably sister Katey), rainbow backpack slung over my back and favorite Strawberry Shortcake dress comforting my first-day-of-school nerves. Although I can’t say I was very nervous about school as a whole, or my new teacher, or making new friends. My “mortal fear” that morning was that I would get on that bus, it would stop at another school that looked very much like Marshall County Elementary and I would get off there by accident, lost is a sea of kids much bigger than myself. To say I was terrified would probably be close to accurate. After all, I can still remember that fear 34 years later!

Yes, yes, yes. It was a silly idea. The bus driver would never have let a little Kindergartener get off the bus with a bunch of high schoolers. But I couldn’t even read yet, let alone work through a problem logically. Interestingly enough, getting off at the wrong school didn’t ended up being a relevant fear. What really happened that morning was that Mr. Black forgot he had a new kid on his route and didn’t even stop to pick me up! I have a feeling my mom stood there wondering what in the world she was going to have to do to not only get me to school that day but also ensure the bus dropped me off later or picked me up the next day. But another driver stopped to get me. This driver had already been to Marshall County that morning, but she drove her last stop to Connelly (the middle school) and then drove little me all the way to my school and let me off at the door of the place I recognized where I quickly walked to my classroom and started my school career. (And if you think this is luxury service, well, when you’re Betty Ann Ogilvie’s granddaughter….nothing in Lewisburg is considered too luxurious!)

After that auspicious start, I can’t remember ever fearing a bus ride again. And yet there remains some inset fear of getting on a bus and getting off at the wrong place – a thing 95% more likely to happen in Pittsburgh than anywhere else on earth I know of. And, so, I am happy to report that someone is picking me up. Yea! No bus! Yea! No getting lost on this trip!