The Boston Phoenix
March 5 - 12, 1998

[Cityscape]

Dorchester derailed

Public transportation is supposed to be for everyone. But if you are a disabled resident of Dorchester, taking the T is not an option. Plus, the elevator police.

Cityscape by Sarah McNaught

Maria Waldron-Menconi looks out the window of her second-floor apartment at the shining sun and the clear blue skies. It's much too beautiful a day to be inside.

Carefully, she mounts the electronic lift in the front hall of the old triple-decker and rides to the first floor, where her scooter is waiting. The 68-year-old mother of five struggles every day with the debilitating effects of a bout with polio in 1955.

Menconi, a long-time resident of the "over the bridge" section of Savin Hill, wheels carefully along the narrow road and heads toward Savin Hill Avenue. She crosses the bridge, glancing over the edge at the Southeast Expressway below, and stops at the entrance of the Savin Hill T station. But she makes no move to go inside. From her scooter, she can barely reach the heavy metal doors, never mind maneuver the steep stairwell leading to the platform.

"There's nothing I would love more than to take a trip into Boston," says Menconi. "The problem is, I can't get into the station. It's not accessible."

Savin Hill is one of three Red Line stations in Dorchester that have been excluded from the MBTA's handicapped-accessibility project. And after four years of complaints from Dorchester residents -- especially elderly and disabled commuters -- local politicians have filed legislation that, if passed, would appropriate enough funds to overhaul the stations and make them accessible.

According to the 1987 Americans with Disabilities Act, local public-transportation authorities must develop plans to make a sufficient number of stations accessible to disabled people. In 1992, the MBTA drew up a $127 million Key Station Plan detailing which stations would be made accessible and when work on each station would be completed. The Dorchester stations weren't the only ones excluded from the access project, but they represent a critical gap in service. Aside from the Green Line, which requires more complex construction, there is no other place in the system where three stations in a row are not accessible -- and not scheduled to be made accessible.

"These stations aren't a priority right now," says MBTA spokesman Joe Pesaturo, "but that isn't to say that someday they couldn't be updated."

Pesaturo says the T had only a limited amount of money to divide among many stations. As a result, the agency chose to concentrate on those it felt were used the most and would act as "magnets" to draw people into Boston.

The Savin Hill, Fields Corner, and Shawmut stations may not meet those criteria, but they are a source of serious concern for the residents of elderly and disabled housing facilities located nearby.

"The train stations are the only connection these people have to neighboring communities, health facilities, and other shopping districts," says Coleman Flaherty, president of the Columbia-Savin Hill Civic Association.

Restricting disabled people's mobility is not the only issue. The three stations in question are so run-down that some say it is no surprise the MBTA wants to avoid dealing with them. The Savin Hill station, for example, is a mess of flaking paint, crumbling cement, and trash. To use the station, which is located next to the Southeast Expressway, commuters must climb two steep flights of metal stairs leading from Savin Hill Avenue to the platform.

Shawmut station, also in gross disrepair, hides itself in the heart of a quiet neighborhood. From the outside, it looks like a one-story abandoned building in the middle of a lot. The platform is down two steep flights of stairs, and the station reeks of urine and vomit. There are no windows and, consequently, no ventilation.

"The MBTA does what they're supposed to do to the minimum letter of the law," says Lorraine Grife, executive director of the Massachusetts Office of Disability. Grife says the stations are in such poor shape that if they were added to the list of priority stations, the MBTA would be forced to do much more than just make them accessible.

"The cost to update these stations as well as make them accessible would be very steep because the stations are in such disrepair," she says. "And that is a task the MBTA doesn't seem willing to take on."

That means the T isn't serving people like Lillian McNeil, who has lived in Dorchester for almost 40 years. The 70-year-old suffers from severe arthritis and, even with a walker, finds it hard to get around.

"I had such a difficult time on the train that I was forced to get my license at the age of 62," says McNeil as she sits with her friends in the Kit Clark Recreational Center, across from the Fields Corner station. With its large, multipaned windows, the station looks almost like a warehouse. Buses run parallel to the Red Line tracks, which cross Dorchester Avenue via bridge and run alongside the Southeast Expressway to Savin Hill. To get to the trains, passengers must pass through heavy wrought-iron turnstiles. "I complained to the T for many years, but no one listened," McNeil says. "So I had two choices -- find my own way around or sit in my house."

Recently, local politicians have begun a crusade to make these three stations accessible to disabled people. Over the past month, neighborhood associations have held meetings, with the assistance of several state representatives and state senator Stephen Lynch, to record residents' concerns and draft a strategy to sway the legislature to set aside money for the Dorchester stations. And two weeks ago, Representative Martin Walsh (D-Dorchester) met with local business owners to discuss the need to update the train stations in order to attract more customers to the area. Walsh has met with the MBTA's general manager to talk about the issue, and Representative Charlotte Golar Richie (D-Dorchester) has filed legislation that would make the stations a priority.

This is not the first time residents have appealed to the MBTA, however. According to Walsh, then-representative James Brett and then-state senator Paul White met with the MBTA in 1993 and requested that the three stations be included in the Key Station Plan.

"They got a commitment from [former MBTA general manager] John Haley, but in the last three years the three stations have been dropped from the list again," Walsh says.

Richie, who has met with the last three MBTA general managers, has drafted an MBTA bond bill, currently pending in the state's Long Term Debt Committee, that would allocate money to upgrade the stations and make them accessible.

"These stations are the worst in the system. Even the MBTA has said so," says Richie.

But Joe Pesaturo maintains that the condition of the stations had nothing to do with whether they were included in the Key Station Plan. Instead, says Pesaturo, criteria such as ridership and size were the key factors.

For instance, the MBTA chose stations such as Government Center and Back Bay, where several rail lines meet. End-of-the-line stations were also earmarked.

"These stations are considered a magnet to draw people into the city," explains Pesaturo. "We also used ridership numbers to determine which stations were used the most."

Given the shape the three Dorchester stations are in, though, it's not surprising that they are not used as much as some others are. And plenty of residents say ridership would increase if only they could get into the stations.

Carmen Antonio, a 42-year-old Dorchester resident who lost her legs in a car accident about two decades ago, says she passes Shawmut station every day, hoping that someday she will be able to hop on the train and go shopping at Downtown Crossing or to visit friends in Harvard Square.

"For me, behind those doors at the station there is much more than some metal tracks," says Antonio.


The T may not have a perfect record of accessibility for handicapped people, but it is certainly vigilant -- perhaps a little too vigilant -- about defending the elevators it reserves for their use.

On a recent afternoon, clusters of people press forward on the platform as passengers step off the outbound train at Back Bay station. Businessmen in suits, clinging to black umbrellas in anticipation of yet another downpour, dart in and out of the crowd as slow-moving suburbanites search for the exit.

Dickie Rosen shuffles off the train, adjusts his ball cap, and heads toward the elevator. He ignores the grunts of passersby, well aware that he is moving just a little too slowly for the midafternoon traffic.

"I remember when I could take those steps three or four at a time," he says, hanging his cane on the crook of his arm and removing a crisp, white handkerchief from his coat pocket to dab at his mouth. Rosen, 76, had hip and ankle replacements almost a decade ago. "Plastic sure does slow you down," he says.

Just a few steps ahead of him is Peg Dunston, a petite 72-year-old whose shoulder-length white hair falls around her face in loose, sleek curls -- a style she describes as a "Brigitte Bardot." She, too, has depended on a cane since suffering a stroke 13 years ago.

"These old things could just give way at any time," says Dunston with a giggle, referring to her legs. "Wouldn't that be a sight? Come on, Dickie, you have to keep up now."

The two approach the elevator and push the button. No one else is waiting, and they are oblivious to the MBTA worker watching them from just a few yards away. The inspector, who refused to identify himself, had been on the same train as Dunston and Rosen.

The doors to the elevator open, but as the elderly duo enter, the T employee steps forward. "I'm going to have to ask you to step off the elevator," he says, holding the doors open.

"Is it broken?" asks Dunston.

"No, this elevator is for handicapped people only," replies the inspector.

"What do you think I am?" asks Rosen, holding up his cane.

"Well, the elevator is for people in wheelchairs," snaps the inspector. "You're going to have to get off."

Without further argument, the two passengers step out and watch as the doors close on an empty compartment.

"If I was younger it would have taken a lot more to get me off that elevator," Rosen tells the T worker, visibly frustrated but attempting to maintain his cool.

The inspector steps back slightly, looks the elderly man up and down, shakes his head, and walks away.

Unfortunately, says Rosen, this is not the first time he has witnessed such behavior from T employees.

"I once saw a woman with two little tykes -- one was barely walking -- get kicked off the elevator," he recalls.

MBTA officials seemed baffled when asked about the incident. "I don't know what happened that day," says Pesaturo. "I can't imagine why a T worker would do what he did."

Sarah McNaught can be reached at smcnaught[a]phx.com.

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