Although this may be slightly "off topic" because it involves a train rather than an airplane, here's another horror story in the continuing saga of unaccompanied kids on public transportation.
Date: Friday, Sept. 7, 2001
Location: Metrolink's Anaheim Canyon station
Train: Metrolink train # 804
With this being a Friday, we're treated to all the divorced parents taking their kids down to the commuter train station so they can "pawn off" those kids for the weekend to the person they divorced.
Biological Dad and stepmom place eight-year old Brandon on the train and advise me, the conductor, that biological Mom and stepdad will be picking him up at the next station downline, which is West Corona. Unlike you hosties, I am not furnished with any paper documentation showing the names and phone numbers of the parties involved in this "kid swap."
About mid-way through the trip, I ask Brandon if he has a telephone contact for biological Mom in case we don't see them at the station. I have an uncanny way of seeing these events unfold before they actually do. Sometimes the parent at the "receiving" end is "forgetful" or "confused" or "uninformed." Brandon announces that he's just moved to the area and hasn't had an opportunity to memorize any phone numbers. The only tidbits of information he can furnish me are his name and age. Wonderful. Just as I expected, when we arrive at West Corona, biological Mom and stepdad are nowhere to be found. I delay the train for a good five minutes, waiting for the mass of exiting passengers to disperse and allow us to see if his Mom is anywhere to be seen. No such luck. I decide to take Brandon to the train's destination, San Bernardino, and figure on turning him over to the police there. They can then sort out the mess. As per procedure, I have to call Metrolink's operational headquarters and advise them of what's happening. For reasons I can't quite understand, one of the clerks there calls my immediate supervisor and advises him of what's happening. He then calls me and more or less wants a continuous minute-by-minute appraisal of the situation. I might be exaggerating a little here, but, the point is, he's now in the mix of it all, in addition to the operational headquarters.
Brandon suddenly makes the proclamation "OH! Sometimes my mom meets me at the Riverside - La Sierra station", which, as it happens, is the next station downline. Sure enough, at La Sierra, we finally find biological Mom and stepdad.
Observations:
<> If we're going to assume the role of daycare center and provide free babysitting services, all for the cost of a train ticket, you'd think the parents could at least come to an agreement as to where the kid should be received off the train. These yo-yo's couldn't even accomplish that much.
<> All for the revenue of a $5.00 ticket, I had to make two cell phone calls (one to advise operational headquarters of the problem, another to advise them that the crisis had been solved), and received one from my immediate supervisor. Calculate, also, the time and money involved of having three (or more) employees devote their energies in an effort to take care of this problem.
<> All of the other duties that I could have done were, more or less, put on "low priority" while I was handling this situation.
<> If there had there been a more important crisis evolve (running over a trespasser, as an example), I would have had to bump the "unaccompanied kid" crisis to a lower priority. This might have opened a "window of opportunity" for a child molestor to have his way with this kid, while I would have been preoccupied with other details such as walking the right-of-way counting body parts and dealing with emergency personnel and the coroner.
<> Had I allowed the kid to get off at the first stop, West Corona, and if anything bad had happened to him, you can be assured that it would have been my ass on the carpet for not handling the situation "correctly." I just love having parental responsibility rammed down my throat as a requirement of my job.
<> Once, during a similar fiasco like this, we did have to turn the kid over to the police at San Bernardino, as his "receiving party" never showed up. To this day, I still remember his emotional state, realizing, more or less, that no one wanted him that particular weekend. I think the cops finally sorted it out, but what a price to pay just to get parents to act responsibly.
<> I think the fact that the commuter rail agency gets taxpayer money for its operational budget requires them to provide this "social service." You don't bite the hand that feeds you, and if the taxpayer dollars coming from divorced parents keeps you afloat, you haul their kids around from point "A" to point "B" and you smile while doing so. They have a lot of political clout. Any discussion of banning UM's would never be seriously considered.
<> If there will ever be any reforms, it will only be after a kid is molested, injured or killed. There is no such thing as proactive responses.
<> Sometimes I wish the cell phone had never been invented. It's hard to do your job and have to handle endless calls, both received and transmited.
