“Stairs! Stairs!” They cried.
I am standing in a train, at the entrance of a carriage looking out. In front of me is the platform of one of the downtown stations in Salt lake City.
Upon the platform, stand my wife and daughter, shouting up at me, “stairs, stairs’’, although at the time, I wasn’t clear on exactly what they were saying.
I in turn, am frozen in place, confused and frightened.
Being a grizzled veteran of suburban rail transport, 50 years as man and boy catching trains as a blind person in Cape Town. I am no stranger to this sort of transport and yet, I am rendered helpless and more worryingly, rooted to the spot.
All logical, coherent, decision-making ability appears to have left me.
The noise has a lot to do with it, although I have never had a problem with this before.
The rather loud announcement on the speakers announcing the next station. The door closing tone ringing nearby, and of course, my family shouting up at me.
That is the clue. Up at me…
What does that mean?
What have I forgotten?
What is it they are saying?
So let’s wind the story back a bit to try explain what happened.
It’s a lovely snowy season in Utah, and we are visiting my daughter and her partner in Salt Lake City.
Working in the field of universal access and disability inclusion, I was naturally anxious to test out the local Trax suburban rail link in and out of the city.
Bit of mystery shopping you might say.
Very nice, I thought on settling down in a comfortable warm carriage on the Red Line. Pretty good vertical and horizontal gap between platform and carriage, with, I am assured, an easily deployed wheelchair ramp.
Also, reasonable access from the street to the Daybreak Parkway station.
Clear announcements over the PA system.
There are even bays for wheelchair parking in the carriage, although no sign of tethering.
40 minutes later, we are at our destination. Bit of sightseeing and shopping, and it was time to get back to the station and to transfer to another branch, the Blue Line, to take us to our next destination.
Same clear access from the street, although it must be said that with all the snow, judging access in these conditions is a bit problematic.
Wait on the platform for only 5 minutes and the Blue Line train arrives.
I have already noticed that the turnover time at each stop is rather short, so we need to hurry.
“Careful dad”, my daughter says, “there are three steps up into the train”.
Wait.
What?
“Steps? Up into the carriage?”
“What the hell?”
“Hurry dad, the door’s closing!”
Find a seat, more unsettled now but soon forget this latest access anomaly as we discuss our next plans.
Next stop will be Courthouse or something equally quaint.
“This is us. Quick, don’t forget your shopping.”
“Yes, relax, I am coming”. Holding my wife’s hand, shopping and white cane in the other hand. Letting her hand go just before the door.
Lots of noise. Door chime going. Announcement on the speakers. Hold on to the pole.
Put my foot out and expect terrafirma. But no, just empty air!
Waggle my foot around, nothing but air.
Where am I?
This can’t be right, I must have overshot the door and this must be the junction between carriages.
No, that can’t be right either. What’s that they are shouting?
Too much noise.
Which, is when sanity returns and I suddenly remembered those stairs.
Employ the cane properly to feel the narrow slippery steps below. Just as the door begins to close, clamping me by the shoulders.
I wrench myself loose and hurl myself out onto the platform still a steps height below.
I land shocked and gibbering.
my family berating me loudly, “didn’t you hear us saying stairs?! Remember the stairs?”
I lose it. Yell back at them, near to tears.
I try explain this inexplicable thing that has just happened to me.
Stress and shock brings out the worst in us all till its blown out and we all calm down and I try articulate my feelings and thoughts over hot chocolate in a snug little diner.
So, what are my feelings and thoughts?
Firstly, coming from South Africa – no paragon of access to be sure – inaccessibility and weird and not so wonderful access anomalies abound.
But something about this situation has pressed all my buttons.
In brief, I think it was the stairs on an otherwise accessible train network that was so counterintuitive when I first came across them; that, in the stress and rush of getting off the train in time, my mind simply did not compute that there might be steps to negotiate. When leaving the train, muscle memory took over and I literally forgot they were there.
But what gets to me as well, in such a highly litigious country as the USA, is not just the obvious inaccessibility of the Blue Line on the Trax network, but how dangerous this was. Particularly with the rapid turnover of passengers getting on and off the train at each stop. Especially in those icy conditions.
It must be said, that later, on researching this article, we discovered that there was in fact provision for wheelchair users, by way of a ramp at the front of the train. However, one must consider older passengers, passengers with young children or with prams, passengers carrying baggage and of course passengers with all sorts of disabilities. Temporary or permanent. Who risk calamity using the stairs on that Blue Line train.
Given the relative accessibility of the other Trax Lines: Red and Green, this Blue Line is a truly staggering access and safety anomaly.
Just a note on blind and visually impaired people using stairs: It is often thought that stairs will be a problem for blind people, however, this is not so. Notwithstanding my misadventure above, stairs, particularly if one is confident in their mobility, aided by a white cane or guide dog, should not pose a problem.