Funny.......the memories the Key brings. The roar downstairs in the Trans Bay Terminal, the brake squeal upstairs on the platform. The conductor who would drag me back to the fair box by my shirt because I had to run up to the front as soon as he opened the doors to be next to the motorman. The open front doors on a hot day because of no air conditioning. The swing and sway on the bad track....they'd always blast the air horn going under the SP. Midnight on 12th the Street in Oakland, a drunken sailor projectile vomiting exiting the train. I can still see the guy in the street on his knees, the train, the lights, the city, like a high def black and white photo. End of an era.
ARD