BLUE LINE JOURNAL : Cares of the City Left Behind by Those on Day’s Last Train

“Last train to Long Beach!” Rita Malone hollered. “All aboard, we’re leaving now! Last train to Long Beach!”

Toting a clipboard as she moved among the lengthening shadows of the Pico Boulevard station in downtown Los Angeles, Malone wearily but diligently ushered stragglers into the day’s 70th southbound train. Her commitment to the success of the city’s new Metro Rail Blue Line extended right down to her pinky fingernails--each one painted bright blue and etched with the word METRO. (“I’m trying to get in the spirit,” she said.)

Soon, the doors slid closed and, with a powerful nudge, the half-filled, Japanese-built train cars began moving boisterously southward. Talk was loud, the passengers a miscellany of tourists, shoppers, train buffs and working commuters. The time was 7:15--the tail end of rush hour--and it would be after 8 o’clock and dark when the Blue Line rolled into Long Beach, 19 miles away.

Meanwhile, there was that special atmosphere, a general sense of release, that is found on the last train home. Everyone seemed aware that the day was winding down; they were leaving behind the cares of the inner-city. A teen-ager vigorously worked a toy Slinky. Two young shoppers, Lorena Castro and Brenda Ortiz, giggled as they rested their feet after three hours on hot sidewalks. First-time rider Jeannette Johnson of Los Angeles stood in the center aisle of the packed forward car watching the warehouses go by--and realized she was going in the wrong direction.

“Does it come back (downtown)?” Johnson asked, surprised that it did not. “Oh, how am I going to get back?”

She was advised to exit at the next stop.

“So I’m on this train and I’ve got to get off,” she said, grinning but craning her neck to take worried glances out the window. “That’s crazy. Now where’s the next stop?”

Rapid Transit District officials face special challenges at the day’s end, trying to assure that inexperienced passengers get to their destinations. The final northbound train leaves Long Beach shortly after 6 p.m., and the last southbound train departs from Los Angeles shortly after 7. Invariably, some commuters miss those trains, so the RTD runs buses along the route well into evening.

The buses pass each of the 17 existing train stops, whisking the stray riders (at no charge this month) to their home stations. On one recent night, a middle-aged man and wife showed up well after the last scheduled run, thanks largely to an inaccurate Blue Line schedule. A bus driver welcomed them aboard, laughing sympathetically: “We’ll get you there. We won’t leave you stranded.”

The couple stepped to their seats without cracking a smile.

On the train, though, the commotion of the last run starts to die down as the train leaves the inner city and picks up speed. The riders on Wednesday night’s final Blue Line began to stretch out, despite the cramped seats, and watched scenery go by. Many were forming their first impressions of the newfangled technology.

“It’s a darn sight better than taking the car,” said Lee Morrison, 39, a video store manager from Long Beach who was traveling with an old high school buddy, Jim Noragon, also of Long Beach. “We wanted to take the last loop of the day and see what it was like. I’ve had so many friends get bargains at the (Los Angeles) Jewelry Mart and the garment district over the years . . . and it’s just going to be super-convenient to get there. It’s fantastic.”

Until now, he had avoided Los Angeles because of parking difficulties downtown, Morrison added. “You look at the streets up there and you wouldn’t leave your car for five minutes,” he said. “Or you go to a parking lot and they charge you a buck an hour. I’ve been waiting years for this.”

As the miles slipped by, Bill Peterson, a 44-year-old Long Beach shipyard clerk, sat alone in a section of car that had begun to clear out. “I’ll probably ride every once in a while for fun,” he said with a smile, granting his blessing. “Maybe I’ll ride up to L.A. sometimes, you know, look around for the day, and get back on the train and take it back home.”

Jose Orellana, a young bank messenger taking his second trip, planned to give up the frustrating commute to work by car. “This is going to be good,” he said.

Veterinarian Anthony Onuoaha, 33, complained about the number of stops and fretted about the “bad areas” bordering the train route. “It’s scary-- scary, “ he said. “Especially riding the last train.”

Fewer passengers were now boarding at each stop. Several times, the train doors opened and no one boarded. But Nurse Linda Helms, 32, of Long Beach, got on and talked of her lifelong love of trains. As a teen-ager, she recalled, she traveled cross-country every other year, taking the train to visit relatives in North Carolina.

“I just rode it for fun,” Helms said. “If I had the money, I’d ride the Bullet (Train in Japan) and I’d fly the Concorde.”

Darnell Johnson, 35, hurried on board at the Compton Station. He had just returned his girlfriend’s car to her and had dinner with her at a local soul-food restaurant. Now, running a little late, he was heading home to Long Beach.

“I didn’t realize this was the last (train),” he said. “What time is it? This is the actual last train to Long Beach this evening?”

He laughed. “This is great.”

Only a third of the car was occupied now, and riders were looking more weary.

Turned sideways in his seat, Johnson watched the sun going down. As it hit the horizon, he was asked to describe the mood on the rail car. “Most tranquil,” he said. “Everybody’s enjoying it. The sun is setting. I can write your story for you. Poetry. The sun is setting as we gradually go up the hill. The sun will be dissipating. The sun will be dissipating into the north, toward the ocean.”

He was laughing. “You can’t beat it. This is just where I want to be too.”