Orange-vested staffers make subway trips rosy : Since New York formed special team, ridership is up, so is efficiency and praise from a grateful and less fearful public.

Wearing his white carnation, brass nameplate and bright orange mesh vest, David Bobe stood in the Times Square subway station, awash in the tide of humanity that is the evening commuter rush.

“Can I help you?” he asked a blind man who seemed in need of directions.

“I want to get to 44th Street, between Sixth and Seventh,” the man said.

“I’ll walk you upstairs,” Bobe replied. “I’ll point you in the right direction.”

He left the station for a moment before returning to help a woman who wanted to go to 63rd Street and Lexington Avenue and another who spoke only Spanish and had directions written on a paper towel.

Bobe, the manager responsible for the sprawling Times Square station--about 300,000 people use it each weekday--is part of a unique program being closely watched by cities from coast to coast. The aim is to make New York’s 842-mile subway system more efficient and user friendly.

The Transit Authority in 1990 began appointing managers at key subway stops to coordinate services, cut through red tape and restore customer confidence. With their pictures and phone numbers posted in stations, the managers act as the stations’ landlords--working to hasten repairs, serving as liaisons with the transit police and coordinating activities with local businesses and community groups.

“There was a sense of lack of control on the station and a sense no one was there to serve the customer,” said Carol E. Meltzer, head of the authority’s station division.

“Sometimes, just your presence, just your visibility will make a difference,” said John Gerst, one of the first station managers chosen. “It’s not all roses. You have irate customers out there who always have something negative to talk about. You still have to smile and make a positive presentation.”

When a firebomb went off last week in a train at the Fulton Street station in Lower Manhattan, injuring 45 people, Bobe was attending a planning meeting for New Year’s Eve in Times Square. He and other transit personnel raced to the station, where they met manager Michael Cruz.

“We told the public, ‘Just leave the station now. Don’t ask any questions.’ . . . They believed there was a second bomb on the train,” Bobe said.

A second bomb wasn’t found.

Since its inception, the program has grown to include 225 stations and has been cited by Harvard’s John F. Kennedy School of Government and the Ford Foundation for its positive results. Subways are cleaner, graffiti is being erased more quickly, fare cheating is down and fewer homeless people live on station platforms.

All this contrasts sharply with a decade ago, when it seemed Mephistopheles was the motorman and the subways were on a downward journey to hell.

Graffiti was so thick on the walls of trains that the paint almost was invisible. Breakdowns were common and tracks were badly in need of repair. Many stations were filthy and beggars were intrusive. The number of passengers dropped precipitously.

But with improvements that have occurred over the past several years, subway ridership is at its highest level since 1972. On an average weekday, 3.4 million fares are collected. Seventy stations have been rebuilt and 1,775 new subway cars have been purchased. The rest of the fleet has been overhauled. Tracks have been repaired so that trains no longer have to crawl at 10 m.p.h. on large portions of the system.

“People actually write in and tell you you are doing a good job,” Meltzer said.

New York’s subway system began in 1870 with a 312-foot line under one block of lower Broadway. It had a waiting room with paintings, a goldfish tank and a grand piano. In 1904, a 28-station line opened with Mayor George B. McClellan driving the inaugural train. The Transit Authority today operates 469 stations, about 60% underground. Times Square is the busiest, with 33.4 million fares a year.

Managers have found ingenuity counts as stations reflect the character and problems of New York’s diverse neighborhoods.

One station manager found that students were crossing the tracks after getting off the train to get to school. He quickly ordered doors, previously kept locked, to be opened. He gained the cooperation of the high school’s principal and reported several students who were caught on the tracks. The problem ceased.

The same manager found homeless people had taken over portions of the station--even plugging a television set into its power system. He ordered the power shut off to that part of the platform, removed the bench where the homeless congregated and summoned police and social workers to encourage them to move to shelters. It worked.

Other station managers have delivered babies on subway platforms and have stared down and scared away persistent fare beaters and more serious criminals, serving as the eyes and ears of the transit police. One manager in a poor neighborhood scheduled tutoring in a local library so that passengers could prep for civil service exams.

The feedback of being on the front line with the public can be worth it. Bob Gorvetzian, the Grand Central manager, stood on the platform recently when he heard a familiar voice. It was his old basketball coach, whom he hadn’t seen in decades.

“Ah, you made something of yourself,” the coach said.