RichardHowe.com – Voices from Lowell & Beyond

Lowell Politics: June 14, 2026

Lowell Mayors, Part I

The Lowell City Council is now on its summer meeting schedule. From June through September the council will meet on the second and fourth Tuesdays of the month rather than weekly as is the case the rest of the year. For the non-meeting weeks (and due to a calendar quirk, this is one of them), this newsletter shifts to Lowell political history to provide some context for current issues.

How we select our mayor has been debated by this council and by the public. Since 1943 when the Plan E form of government was adopted in Lowell, the mayor has been elected by a majority vote of the city council at the start of each term. However, there is rising interest in changing that method to allow voters to directly elect the mayor.

But my topic today is not how we elect our mayor. Instead, it is about the people who have served as mayor of the city throughout its 200-year history. By my count, 84 different individuals have held that office, although that is a difficult number to pin down.

Beginning today and continuing for the next two non-council meeting Sundays, I will publish brief biographical sketches of these 84 people. Because there are so many, I have divided them into three groups:

• From the receipt of the city charter in 1836 until just before the election of the first “immigrant” mayor in 1883;
• From the first “immigrant” mayor in 1883 until the adoption of Plan E in 1943;
• From 1943 to the present.

First, a couple of footnotes: This is Lowell’s bicentennial which means our government was born in 1826. However, that initial charter was for a town which was governed by a board of selectmen without a mayor. Because of Lowell’s rapid growth, ten years later local leaders petitioned the state legislature for a city charter which was granted in 1836. The form of government created then consisted of a mayor elected directly by voters and a two-part legislature consisting of a board of aldermen and a common council. Both were elected by ward, however, there was just one alderman per ward but multiple common councilors. The number of wards and common councilors changed over time as did the power of the mayor and the legislators, but that will be a topic for another day.

With that, let’s get to know the mayors of Lowell:

Elisha Bartlett was mayor in 1836 and again in 1837 (for many years the mayoral term was just one year). Bartlett was born in 1804 in Smithfield, Rhode Island, and earned a medical degree at Brown University. After studying for a year in Paris, he came to Lowell and established a medical practice. He was an excellent speaker and became active in public affairs. When Lowell received its city charter in 1836, Bartlett was nominated by the Whig Party as its mayoral candidate (local elections were on a partisan basis back then). He defeated Eliphalet Case, the Democratic candidate. After Bartlett completed his second term as mayor, he stepped away from politics and traveled the country to lecture at medical schools and devoted much of his time to writing medical textbooks. However, illness limited his activities, so he moved back to Rhode Island where he died in 1855 at age 50. He is buried in Slatersville Cemetery in Slatersville, Rhode Island.

Luther Lawrence was mayor in 1838 and again in 1839. He was born in 1778 in Groton, Massachusetts, and graduated from Harvard College in 1801. He studied law and was elected to the state legislature several times, serving as Speaker of the House in 1822. He and his brothers (William, Abbott and Amos) became successful and wealthy in Boston retail and banking. In 1830, they invested heavily in the mills of Lowell including the one named for them. Luther moved to Lowell in 1831 to oversee the family’s interests here. In 1838, the Whig Party nominated him for mayor. He won the election and was reelected in 1839. However, on April 17, 1839, just two weeks into his second term, he was walking through a building of the Middlesex Mills (located where the Inn & Conference Center now stands) and fell into a waterwheel pit, striking his head and dying within moments. He is buried in Groton Cemetery in Groton, Massachusetts.

Elisha Huntington was president of the Lowell Common Council in 1839 so became mayor upon the death of Luther Lawrence. Huntington was elected mayor in his own right in 1840, and elected again in 1841, 1844, 1845, 1852, 1856, and 1858, serving a total of eight years as mayor. He was born in Topsfield, Massachusetts in 1796 and graduated from Dartmouth College in 1815 and Yale Medical School in 1823. He came to East Chelmsford to establish his medical practice. When East Chelmsford became Lowell in 1826, Huntington was elected to the school committee and then to the common council. After he left elected office, he experienced poor health and died of apoplexy (a stroke) in 1865 at age 69. He is buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge. Massachusetts.

Nathaniel Wright was mayor in 1842 and 1843. He was born in Sterling, Massachusetts, in 1785, and graduated from Harvard College in 1808. Wright came to East Chelmsford to study law with Asahel Stearns, a prominent lawyer and politician in the region. When Lowell received its town charter in 1826, Wright served four consecutive terms as a selectman and was the first to represent Lowell in the state legislature. In 1842, he was elected mayor on a “citizen’s ticket” and was reelected the following year as the nominee of the Whig party. He left politics after that but continued to practice law in Lowell. He died here in 1858 at age 73 of heart disease. He is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

Jefferson Bancroft was mayor in 1846, 1847 and 1848, making him the first to serve three consecutive terms as mayor. He was very popular and faced little opposition in his elections. Bancroft was born in Warwick, Massachusetts, in 1803. He worked on farms until 1824 when he came to East Chelmsford to work in the woolen mill of Thomas Hurd (which became the Middlesex Mills). Before his election as mayor, he held several government positions including deputy sheriff, tax collector, chief engineer of the fire department, and served on the common council and the board of aldermen. He died in Tyngsborough in 1890 at age 86 and is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

Josiah B. French was mayor in 1849 and 1850. He was born in Billerica in 1799 and worked from a young age which limited his formal schooling. In 1831, he began a “staging” business which involved wagon transportation. The business thrived. French held the contract to carry mail between Boston and Montreal and ran regular passenger service between Lowell and Concord, New Hampshire. However, the growth of the railroad in the early 1840s cut into his business and he gravitated to politics, serving on the common council, as a state representative, and as a county commissioner before being elected mayor. He died in Lowell in 1876 at age 76. He is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

James H. B. Ayer was mayor in 1851. He was born in Haverhill, Massachusetts, in 1788. He taught school in Amesbury but came to East Chelmsford in 1823 to work for the Merrimack Manufacturing Company. He rose through management ranks and was made paymaster for the Locks and Canals Corporation. Before Lowell received its town charter, Ayer was elected selectman in Chelmsford and then held that office in Lowell after it was chartered. He left politics after his service as mayor and died in Lowell in 1864 at age 76. He is buried in Corner Cemetery in Amesbury, Massachusetts. (He does not appear to be a relative of James C. Ayer, the city’s patent medicine magnate.)

Sewall G. Mack was mayor in 1853 and 1854. He was born in Wilton, New Hampshire, in 1813 and moved to Lowell in 1840 to open a retail business with Daniel Cushing called Cushing and Mack. He served several terms as a common councilor and as an alderman. In his first election as mayor in 1853, he defeated his opponent by a handful of votes but did not receive the minimum number needed to win the election under the rules in effect at the time. The election was repeated 20 days later, and Mack received enough votes to win the office. The following year, he achieved the minimum vote threshold despite facing three opponents. Mack died at Mont Vernon, New Hampshire, in 1903 at age 89. He is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

Ambrose Lawrence was mayor in 1855. He was born in Boscawen, New Hampshire, in 1816 and lived on a farm until he was 17. He worked in a cotton mill in New Hampshire until 1837 when he came to Lowell to work in the Suffolk Mills as a machinist. The following year he moved to Georgia to learn dentistry and then returned to Lowell to open a dental practice. He was elected to the common council and the board of alderman before being nominated for mayor by the American Party (also known as the Know Nothings), a political party running on an anti-immigrant platform. In the state and local elections that year, Know Nothing candidates, including Ambrose Lawrence running for mayor of Lowell, won overwhelming victories across Massachusetts. He only served a single term as mayor then left politics to invent and manufacture dental treatment devices. He moved between Boston and Lowell and died in Boston in 1893 at age 76. He is buried in Mount Hope Cemetery in Roslindale, Massachusetts. (He does not appear to be a relative of Luther Lawrence, the city’s second mayor.)

Stephen Mansur was mayor in 1857. He was born in Temple, New Hampshire, in 1799 and grew up working on a farm. He came to East Chelmsford in 1822 to work on enlarging the Pawtucket Canal, then moved permanently to Lowell in 1830 when he opened a hardware store. Over time, he served as a state representative, a common councilor, and an alderman. In 1857, he defeated former Mayor Huntington by a small margin and served just one term. He died in 1863 at age 64 and is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

James Cook was mayor in 1859. He was born in Preston, Connecticut, in 1794 and fought in the War of 1812. After the war, he worked in woolen mills in Connecticut and Northampton, Massachusetts. In 1830, he moved to Lowell to run the Hurd Woolen Mills for the next 15 years. After a brief move to Vermont to run a mill there, he returned to Lowell to oversee the Middlesex Mills. In 1858, he opened an insurance company which was very successful and which he operated for the rest of his life. His one term as mayor of Lowell was the only political office he held. He died in Lowell inn 1884 at age 89 and is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

Benjamin C. Sargeant was mayor in 1860 and again in 1861. He was born in Unity, New Hampshire, in 1823 and moved to Lowell at age 16 to work in a bookstore. He moved to New York City to work in another bookstore but returned to Lowell three years later to open his own book and stationary shop. He was elected to two terms on the common council before his two terms as mayor. He had many friends among the Irish people of Lowell who renamed their volunteer militia company the Sargeant Light Guard in his honor. He died in Lowell in 1870 at age 47 after a long illness. He is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

Hocum Hosford was mayor of Lowell in 1862, 1863, and 1864. He was born in Charlotte, Vermont, in 1825 and worked on the family farm until he was 20 years old. He had limited formal schooling but was self-educated and was hired as the town schoolteacher when he was 18. He moved to Lowell in 1845 and worked in several dry goods stores. He went into business with Arthur G. Pollard operating a retail establishment that eventually became Pollard’s Department Store. Hosford was elected to the common council and the board of aldermen. When he was elected mayor in 1862 at age 36, he was the youngest person to have held the office to that point. After serving as mayor, he was a director of and actively involved in the operation of the Boston and Lowell Railroad. He died in Lowell in 1881 at age 55. He is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

Josiah G. Peabody was mayor in 1865, 1866, and 1872. He was born in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, in 1808, but moved to Haverhill, Massachusetts, when he was 12 years old to work on a farm and attend school. In 1824, he came to East Chelmsford to learn the carpentry trade and help construct the buildings of the Hamilton Manufacturing Company. In 1833, he went into business as a contractor and builder and constructed many churches, mill buildings, and homes in Lowell and throughout New England. In 1858, he helped found the Wamesit Steam Mills which made wooden doors, sashes and blinds. He served several terms in the state legislature, the governor’s council, the board of aldermen and the common council. He left politics after his final term as mayor. He died in Lowell in 1898, at age 89. He is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

George F. Richardson was mayor in 1867 and again in 1868. He was born in Tyngsborough in 1829 and moved to Lowell when he was 15. He attended Phillips Exeter and graduated from Harvard College in 1850 and Harvard Law School in 1853. He went into practice in Boston but returned to Lowell in 1858 to practice law with his brother, Daniel Richardson. He served on the common council and the board of aldermen during the Civil War. After serving as mayor, he was elected to the state senate for two terms. He died in Lowell in 1912 at age 82 and is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

Jonathan P. Folsom was mayor in 1869 and again in 1870. He was born in Tamworth, New Hampshire, in 1820 and came to Lowell in 1840 to work in a dry goods store. In 1850, he opened his own store in Lowell which he operated for the rest of his life. He served several terms on the common council both before and after his service as mayor. He also was a state representative for several terms. He died in Haverhill, Massachusetts, in 1893 at age 72. He is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

Edward F. Sherman was mayor in 1871. He was born in Acton, Massachusetts, in 1821. His family moved to Lowell when he was a child. As a teenager, he taught school and then enrolled in Dartmouth College, graduating in 1843. He returned to Lowell to study law and then became a law partner with Tappan Wentworth. Sherman served on the school committee for several terms before being elected mayor. Soon after taking office, he became ill which limited his activities. He served his full term but died in early 1872 at age 51. He is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

Francis Jewett was mayor in 1873, 1874, and 1875. He was born in Nelson, New Hampshire, in 1820. He worked on the family farm until he was 28 years old. He then apprenticed himself to a butcher in Middlesex Village (which was still part of Chelmsford but was later annexed to Lowell) and eventually opened his own butcher shop which was a thriving business throughout his life. Jewett served on the common council and board of aldermen before being elected mayor. After that office, he served as a state senator and a governor’s councilor. He died in Lowell in 1896 at age 75 and is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

Charles A. Stott was mayor in 1876 and again in 1877. He was born in 1835 on River Street, which was then part of Dracut but eventually was annexed to Lowell. After graduating from Lowell High School, he became the paymaster of the Belvidere Woolen Mills which was owned by his father. He served with the Sixth Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry Regiment during the Civil War. After the war, he resumed working with his father at the family woolen mill. Stott’s service as mayor was the only elected office he held or sought. He died in Lowell in 1912 at age 77 and is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

John A. G. Richardson was mayor in 1878 and again in 1879. He was born in Lowell in 1840 and served with the Sixth Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry Regiment in the Civil War. He worked as a clerk and eventually opened his own retail store on Middlesex Street. After serving as mayor, he experienced ill health and moved to Minneapolis, Minnesota, to live with his son who had established a thriving law practice there. Mayor Richardson died in Minneapolis in 1895 at age 55. He is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

Frederic T. Greenhalge was mayor in 1880 and again in 1881. He was born in Clitheroe, England, in 1842, but moved to Lowell as a child when his father, a master cloth printer, was recruited to work in the Lowell mills. Frederic graduated from Lowell High and was at Harvard College when his father died, forcing Frederic to leave school to support his mother and sister. He taught school but also studied law under a local attorney and eventually opened his own law office. He served in the army during the Civil War and was elected to the common council and the school committee before being elected mayor. In 1889, he was elected to Congress and in 1893, he was elected governor of Massachusetts. He was reelected the following year but died in office of kidney disease at age 53. He is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

George Runels was mayor in 1882. He was born in Warner, New Hampshire, in 1823, and came to Lowell to become a stone cutter. However, his restlessness led him on several adventures including serving as a crew member on a whaling ship in the Pacific where he was shipwrecked then rescued. He returned to Lowell in 1845 but left for the California gold rush in 1850. He finally settled down in Lowell in 1855, starting a booming granite business that he operated for the rest of his life. He was elected to the common council and the board of aldermen before being elected to his single term as mayor. He died in Lowell in 1911 at age 88 and is buried in Lowell Cemetery.

To be continued . . .

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It was an active week on richardhowe.com:

There were two posts about the forthcoming Franco-American week that begins on June 21, 2026. The first has the schedule for the week; the second is an essay by Paul Marion titled, “Why Do I Tell the Franco-American Story”

Leo Racicot shared a tribute to the Lowell Regional Transit Authority and its employees.

Reporting from Paris, Louise Peloquin wrote about the technical difficulties that befell an incredible public art installation there.

In this week’s Seen & Heard column, I wrote about my visit to the Concord Museum; commented on a podcast exploring the potential benefits of AI; reviewed Conan O’Brien’s Harvard commencement address; and reviewed “The World’s Banker,” a biography of James Wolfensohn, a former president of the World Bank.

Why Do I Tell the Franco-American Story? by Paul Marion

With the annual Lowell area Franco-American week celebration coming up later this month, this seemed to be a good time to re-run this brief essay. There are two million descendants of French-Canadian immigrants in New England. In 2020, I was asked by the hosts of the French-Canadian Legacy Podcast in Concord, New Hampshire, to answer the question below. I wrote the following for the podcast blog.

Why Do I Tell the Franco-American Story?

My grandparents, Antoinette and Wilfrid Marion, in Little Canada, Lowell, 1917

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I believe it is important to know your roots. I believe that you have a better chance to know who you are if you know where you come from, if you know how you got to where you are today. Why is it important to know who you are? I believe you will lead a more fulfilling life if you have a sense of how you fit in the larger flow of humanity. It’s about what I call coherence, which I take to mean having a unified sense of being, a feeling of being whole in body and soul and mind. It’s the opposite of being alienated, the feeling of being disconnected from society. Knowing who you are and where you are gives a person a better chance of feeling a sense of community, a sense of belonging to something larger than your individual self.

The question “Who am I?” has the simplicity of the old Baltimore Catechism question, Who made me? In Catholic grade school a lot of answers were provided. Just memorize what’s in the book. Just listen to the priest at Mass. Just do what Sister Thérèse de l’Enfant-Jesus says. The authorities offered a lot of answers after providing the questions as well. But in all those school days in a French Catholic elementary school, I don’t recall any of the authorities telling us how the French Canadians wound up in Lowell or Dracut, Mass. There was no local history in school. They customs, yes, like singing the Canadian national anthem in French and displaying the Quebec province flag in the classroom next to the red, white, and blue U.S. flag. Sometimes the Mass was said in French. Early on it was in Latin in my day. Then it was English with the priest facing the faithful in the pews. “Pray, pay, and obey,” was the unspoken game plan.

We had a few “French” items in the school cafeteria like Chinese Pie or Pâté Chinois, the regional concoction that is a twist on Shepherd’s Pie or Cottage Pie from Ireland and Britain. Until the canonical law changed, we were not served any meat on Fridays. Gooey mac and cheese, tomato-rice soup, crispy fish sticks were popular. Some kids didn’t go for the hot lunch. We had French language day on Thursdays and French courses, grammar and conversation, all the time. At home my parents spoke French to my grandparents and their siblings (not all the time). We visited relatives on New Year’s Day, which is special for the French Canadian-Americans. The older generations told stories about the immigrants and subsequent generations. My ancestors on both sides came to Lowell, Mass., in 1880.  Despite all this, my generation turned out to be highly American in identity.

As someone interested in history, I always had a sense of my past and was curious but not in any extraordinary way. I lost my ability to speak French fluently, even semi-fluently, after high school despite four years of French reading comprehension and conversation classes. One of my brothers attended a French Catholic high school, but I chose not to. As the years went on, I began to think more about my family’s origins. When my son was born in 1995, the sixth generation of our line in Lowell, he came to my wife Rosemary and me with her 100 percent Irish roots stretching back to 1870 in the city and my 100 percent French background. I realized that he would be far from his ethnic origins. It would be up to me to give him some grounding so that he would have an understanding of where he comes from. With any ethnic link, a special challenge is keeping in touch with the roots when a person no longer has the native language, whether French, Portuguese, Khmer, Spanish, whatever it may be. Our son’s arrival heightened my commitment to tell the French Canadian-American story in my writing, both the Lowell area French story and my family’s place in it. I’m still reconstructing the family experience. Fortunately, two of my aunts had researched the genealogy of the Marion and Roy lines as far back as the mid-1600s in Normandy, France. The paper trail doesn’t go back farther, so far. I’ll keep at it.

And so, as a writer, I have a way to tell the story of my family, my community, my people. The knowledge has added texture to my experience. Embracing the identity has opened up connections to other people in New England, in Quebec, around the U.S., and abroad. I’m part of a larger effort to remember. At the UMass Lowell Center for Lowell History, there’s a transcript of an interview with a French Canadian-American woman from Lowell from the 1980s. In it, she tells stories about the Lowell French in her time, early 20^th century, and she sings songs. The lyrics are reproduced. Speaking to the interviewer, she says at one point, “I’m a memory worker.” That captures what’s going on in this telling of the French-Canadian story in America. Those of us who write, speak, sing, research, and more are all memory workers in the big Memory Bank.

— Paul Marion (c) 2020

Franco-American Week begins June 21

Lowell’s 2026 Franco-American Festival Week begins Sunday, June 21!

• Sunday, June 21: 12:00 pm Mass in French honoring St. Jean Baptiste. (French/English worship aid provided.) At Immaculate Conception Church, 144 E. Merrimack St., Lowell, MA. Refreshments and naming of the Greater-Lowell Franco-American of the Year will follow in downstairs church hall. (Stair-free access on Fayette St. for upper-church handicap drop-off. Downstairs lift accessible from the church parking lot, using door closest to E. Merrimack St.)
• Sunday, June 21: 4:00 pm “Celebrating Our French Heritage” with Soloist Marie-Line Morin at Joseph’s Shrine, 37 Lee St., Lowell, MA. A weaving of narrative and song in honor of the OMI fathers who staff the Shrine. On-street parking free on Sundays; free off-street lot nearby. For more information, contact: sjwssec@stjosephshrine.org
• Monday, June 22: 5:30-9:30 pm “Across the Years: Three Franco Poets from Lowell” at Coburn Hall, UMass Lowell South Beginning with Dr. Joseph H. Roy, Lowell has nurtured Franco poets including Loom Press publisher Paul Marion and Franco Committee member Suzanne Beebe. Join them for a reading and discussion of Dr. Roy’s and their own poems from a Lowell Franco perspective. Refreshments will be served.
• Wednesday, June 24: 10:00 am Lowell City Hall Flag Raising followed by coffee and (Outdoors if weather is favorable; in City Hall if rainy.)
• Wednesday, June 24: 6:30 pm Vesper Service honoring St. Jean Baptiste at the Lourdes Grotto, 357 Pawtucket St., Lowell, behind the Franco (Bring your own chair!) Wine and Cheese Social to follow in the Community Room of the Franco Residences.
• Thursday, June 25: 6:30-8:30 pm Family Bingo in French and English, at Michael’s Church Hall, 12 Sixth St, Lowell, MA. Bingo cards $2 each or three for $5. Cash prizes for each game! Free snacks and water!
• Saturday, June 27, 6:00-9:30 pm French Quadrilles and Contra Dances at the Pleasant Golf Club, 141 Staples St., Lowell, MA. Free admission! Acadian and Québecois fiddling from rising star Gus LaCasse of Maine. Dances called in French and English by Lowell’s Jeannine Ameduri. Franco foods, snacks, and water free of charge. (Cash bar!)
• Sunday, June 28: 1:30-4:00 pm Magic and Other Fun at St. Rita’s Church Hall, 158 Mammoth Rd, Lowell, MA. Magic show at 2:15 from Henri Marchand. Free face-painting, games, and snacks before and after!

A Tribute to the LRTA

A Tribute to the LRTA

By Leo Racicot

Due to a series of nerve-wracking experiences driving on the Wild West streets of Las Vegas for three years followed by working for a woman in Cambridge who wanted me to ride her autistic son around the city while he screamed at the top of his lungs like a banshee, I decided to let my driver’s license go, after over 30 years of driving. This perhaps too-impulsive act happened just at the time I was moving back to Lowell. Suddenly, I found myself needing to find a new way of getting around. I discovered that the Lowell transit system, the LRTA, had upped its services since the last time I lived here in 1993 to such a degree that its buses could and did take me everywhere I needed to go. For a long time, I’d take a bus then usually walk the rest of the way to my destination. But then, as happens with the aging process, my feet and legs began to fail me such that now, if I want to go somewhere, I have to travel bus-to-bus, eliminating the walking part of my journeys as much as I can.

I mention all this as a prelude to telling you that in nineteen years of bus travel, I’ve gotten to know nearly all the drivers, some in, if not intimate ways, then certainly in companionable ways that make the often long rides nothing short of sheer delight. I know all their names, their family histories, their ups, their downs. Not one of them (with the exception of maybe two) know or have cared to know my name or anything about me. They know I’m a regular, part of the bus culture that develops among commuters who use their buses on a regular basis. There’s a certain comfort, something I like very much about knowing them and them not knowing me. I like the anonymity. It’s certainly a bond apart from the usual relationships I’ve had: friends/a strong, lifelong sibling bond. Best of all, I like it when it happens that I’m the only one on the bus with the driver and I have him or her all to myself in conversation. I like, for example, two real characters, emigrants to America, both from Bulgaria: Costa and R.G. It tickles me that I should ever know anyone from Bulgaria, much less two. Both men wound up working for the LRTA who, though they of course know each other, admit they never socialize outside of work (different interests, I guess). Whenever I’m at a bus stop and Costa pulls up, it always makes my day. After he learned I worked in libraries, as I’m getting on the bus, he always announces (in a booming voice, I might add) “Librarians!”  (plural, always the plural), Librarians are entering the bus!” and then add, in his heavy Eastern European accent, “Okay, now Librarians are sitting down on the bus!” I always get a kick out of this; however embarrassing this was at the start. I’ve gotten used to it, and came to feel I’m not just another bus riding drone. Because, no doubt about it, there is a certain stigma attached to people who have to ride buses. Costa makes me feel good about myself. I like learning about his past, his driving of cross-country semis, his time working for the U.S. embassy in Japan — before Costa, I held to the ignorant belief that all bus drivers must be uneducated dolts. But Costa is very intelligent and I’ve loved my chats with him through the years. There’s also, as I say, a certain stigma attached to people who have to ride buses to get around, an unspoken less than pathos. Many’s the time (too many), a passing car, as I’m waiting at the bus stop, people in cars have honked loudly when they catch sight of me there, especially in bad weather, the occupants of the car, usually teenagers, jeering at my, to them, pathetic situation. “Hey, look at the grown man, without a car, waiting in a blizzard for A BUS.

Truth is — I like and am so thankful for being able to ride the buses, like very much the sight, the voices. the “hellos” of the men and women I’ve come to know so well, or not well at all, as the case may be. One driver (actually two: Donna and Denise) were kind enough when they’d see me trudging along knee-deep in winter weather, to stop, pick me up and, though they probably weren’t supposed to do this, actually take me home to my door. Donna would always say, “It doesn’t cost anything to be kind.”  I treasure the drivers. Some might be more grumpy than others (who wouldn’t be grumpy driving around in circles all day in sometimes heavy traffic, dispatchers barking at them on the radio, traffic cops directing them to take long detours, passengers who don’t know where they’re going or are loud or pay no attention to the rules (I once saw a student pull out a pungent Chinese takeout container from a bag and start scarfing it down as casually as you please, paying no attention to the NO FOOD/DRINK sign right in front of him. The job has to be a nightmare most days. It’s the consistently pleasant, cheerful, welcoming drivers who impress me so much, drivers like Kenny, like Robin, like Ellen, like Rachel, like the Buddha-like Asian fellow whose name I’ve never known, like Bob, whose good-natured teasing characterizes me as “The Philanthropist”, some poor schmuck who rides buses, walks all over town in his mission to hand wads of cash out to the needy. Bob, himself, would hand free bus tickets to me more times than I can count. Ellen would do this, too.  Driver Carol’s funny-naughty comments always crack me up. .And,  I miss Bill Berry who for years kept telling me that “every Saturday in summer, the Harley Davidson outlet on Boston Road has a free cookout — hot dogs, hamburgers, all the soda you can drink.” You gotta get over there”, he’d urge and add, “Then you hop on the #15 bus, get off at Kimball Farms and have a banana split for dessert!”  I first came to know Ellen through her partner, Val. Val and I were coworkers with CTI back some forty years ago. Great gal. She drove for LRTA for years then transferred to dispatch where, for a lot more years, she worked as head dispatch (think she’s gone to part-time now)  She and Ellen are two of the finest people I know. And when my sister, my only sibling, passed away and they found out I have no family left, they warmly, compassionately said to me, “You have us.” I believe they meant not only the two of them but the whole company and its drivers.

The LRTA drivers, their faces, their smiles, make life, esp. daily life, a little less hard. And when favorites have passed on: Norman Welch, Bill Desmond, Cheryl Houle, Jack Leahy, Sonny Brouillard, I’ve mourned them. I miss them. They’ve become, for me, and I know, for many others who travel with them, some of us for years, an extended family, a logical, needed extension of how we feel when we see familiar faces every day, even our fellow passengers. These friendly, joking faces bring a comfort, a continuity to our daily lives. And that, in this increasingly isolated, almost zombie-like, robotic society where the world that people see on their phones, on The Internet and TikTok can be more real to them than the person standing next to them at a traffic light, that can be everything.

_________________

Thank you LRTA

Kennedy Center

Sonny Brouillard

Rachel

Ellen P with Kenny in the driver’s seat

Sokhoeun