
One of the many things I liked about living in San Francisco was the city’s public transportation system.
I don’t know about the situation now. But a half-century ago I could get up, eat breakfast, catch a cable car, connect with a bus, and be at work on time.
Getting back was another matter. By late afternoon, agreement between the bus route schedule and actual running time was at best approximate. I got in the habit of walking toward downtown until a bus came along, leaving the bus near the Embarcadero Center, and walking from there. After a cup of coffee.
My weekday routine didn’t involve BART, San Francisco’s rapid transit system. But I used my BART card fairly often, partly to get places faster than a bus would take me, partly because I liked the then-new system.
I’ll admit it. I’m a technophile. So was my ancestor Arba Zeri Campbell. That’s a story for another day. The main point for today is that I was in the downtown BART stations fairly often. And when I was, it was during the less-busy hours.
Not Really Advice: More Like an Observation

One day — I’m guessing it was a Saturday afternoon, but that’s just a guess. Anyway, one day I was waiting in a downtown BART station.1 I was alone, except for three other folks: two boys and an older girl.
I’m guessing she was their sister, partly because of their conversation’s tone.
The two boys were sitting on the edge of the platform, dangling their legs over the tracks. The girl/young woman was exhorting them to stand up and back away from the edge. Urgently, and unsuccessfully.
She was getting frustrated, the boys were enjoying themselves.
They might have had time to remove their legs from the area that’d be occupied by a train, since we were some distance from the platform’s end. Then again, maybe not.
The boys were early adolescents, or thereabouts: at one of those ages where individuals in my half of humanity can generally be relied on to exhibit energy, enthusiasm, and an appalling lack of wisdom.
I wasn’t exactly sympathetic with the one I figured was their older sister.
The other half of humanity includes some individuals who, from an early age, exhibit a degree of poise and aplomb generally associated with international diplomats. She was not one of those individuals. Neither am I, for that matter.
I think it was when one of the boys glanced back at me that I said “helluva young age to lose your legs”.
By the time I’d finished saying “legs”, they were both looking at me: briefly, before scrambling up. Fast. They’d probably have been able to get their legs out of the next train’s way with seconds to spare.
Then the train I was waiting for came. I got on, and haven’t seen any of them since.
That Voice
I don’t, can’t, know why those two boys picked that moment to stand up. But that won’t keep me from speculating.
I suspect part of an explanation is my appearance. Even then, I had a bushy black beard: and had been using a cane for years.
Seeing someone who looked like that — and might actually be one leg short of the usual quota — might have encouraged a re-evaluation of leg-dangling’s benefit-risk ratio.
Then there’s my voice. I could do a credible “Smoky the Bear” imitation in sixth grade, and sounded like James Earl “Darth Vader” Jones long before Star Wars opened.2
Come to think of it, Star Wars came out in 1977. I was in San Francisco during 1978 and 1979.
Whatever their reasons, the kids got up and their sister(?) stopped fussing. I’ll take that as good, or at least neutral, news.
Talking about those kids and the station platform reminded me of another BART story, but that’ll keep for another time.
Now, some vaguely-related posts:
- “Grogu, a Christmas Stocking, the Liturgical Year, and Me”
(January 14, 2025) - “A Short Look at a Small Dog, and Another Week in Minnesota”
(January 11, 2025) - “War, Peace and a Civilization of Love”
(November 12, 2022) - “Appearance, Ancestry, and Me at the Grand Canyon”
(February 12, 2022 ) - “Off the Rails”
(December 22, 2017)

1 Mostly about getting around in and around San Francisco:
- Wikipedia
- Wikipedia:
- Darth Vader
- Jackson Weaver (Smokey Bear’s voice, 1947-1992)
- James Earl Jones
- Smokey Bear
- Star Wars
- “Smokey Bear — The Forest Has Many Things (1963)”
Smokey Bear, YouTube.com
I think reading this post is the most I’ve thought about what your voice sounds like so far, Mr. Gill. And wow, that sounds deep. I’ll count that as another piece of motivation for my appreciation for lower vocal registers, my own included.
Appreciating the kit God issues each of us – strikes me as a good idea. 🙂 Thanks for responding – and this is a reminder that my oldest daughter suggested that I post videos. I’m still thinking about that: particularly the technical end.