New Face, and Approach, Arriving at Top of Metro
Chief Surprises Workers With Visits

By Lena H. Sun
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, February 16, 2006

The man in charge of the country's second-busiest subway system is driving through the darkness in Northeast Washington, bumping along train tracks, looking for the entrance to the Brentwood rail yard.

It is 4:30 a.m., and Dan Tangherlini presents his Metro badge to the startled guard, who does not recognize him but knows instantly that the wiry man is Someone Important because of the red stripe on the badge.

Tangherlini tells him that as of the next day -- today -- he will be Metro's interim general manager. And he might become the next permanent one.

In a few minutes, Tangherlini is inside the rail yard. He is making an unannounced visit so he can hear gripes and praise from the real Metro workers.

"In my 22 years, this is the first time I've seen a general manager come down here and talk to us, not part of a prearranged visit," says Bruce McDonald, one of the first supervisors he meets. "If this is any indication of what's in store, we'll be in great shape."

It's part of the education of Dan Tangherlini, who left his job as the District's transportation director and Metro board member for the complexities of running a bus and train system that transports 1.1 million commuters each day. He has already dropped in at the Landover bus garage and ridden a route with a driver. Two weeks ago, he accompanied a rider who uses the MetroAccess curb-to-curb van service for those who cannot take the bus or subway. Yesterday, he visited the Brentwood rail yard, where heavy repairs are made to trains. Today, he'll ride the new eight-car trains on the Orange Line.

During three hours at Brentwood, he shakes hands with dozens of workers -- subway car cleaners, station managers, train operators, mechanics and electronics technicians. All are stunned to see the top guy.

Tangherlini, 38, nods, a little embarrassed. He asks questions. He scribbles notes in a small black notepad. The issues are familiar ones: payroll mistakes, inadequate training, the dreaded Metro bureaucracy.

"Keeping positions filled is a real issue for us," one manager says.

"I've been fighting with them for my vacation pay," another worker says.

Joyce Mullins, a station manager at Union Station, returns his handshake with a big smile and asks for his business card. They're not ready yet, so as a joke, she asks for the red stripe on his badge. It is a designation that gives the bearer the highest level of access in the system.

Tangherlini learns the significance of the red stripe later, and for the moment, he has no idea what she's talking about. But without missing a beat, he offers to give her his stripe or put one on her badge.

"Dan the Man," she says, heading out the door to start her shift. Her parting words of advice: "It's going to be rough, but you hang in there. "

Tangherlini is replacing Richard White, the chief executive who was forced out of his job Jan. 11 after a tenure marked by strides in fixing complex funding problems but struggles with daily crises, including broken escalators, faulty rail cars and preventable accidents.

White, a self-described introvert, didn't mingle much with the rank and file, and he drove to work from his Fairfax home in a Metro-issued SUV until he was pressured by the Metro board to resume daily commuting on the Orange Line. Tangherlini is, in many ways, the antithesis of White. Where White was cautious and reserved, Tangherlini is outgoing and approachable. He is also a daily rider of the Metro system.

But Tangherlini lacks some of the subway know-how that White possessed. He also faces tremendous challenges in translating the skills he built at the D.C. Transportation Department, which employs 600, to the huge and complex transit agency, which has 10,000 workers.

And he is not universally loved. He has been criticized by some community leaders for not being sensitive to their concerns about a planned light-rail project in Anacostia. He is sensitive to criticism by community leaders that he is a media hound. He reluctantly allowed a reporter to accompany him on his visit to Brentwood yesterday.

One of his priorities, he has said, is to open lines of communication with employees, riders and local governments that help pay for Metro service. Between meetings yesterday with labor union officials and Fairfax government leaders, Tangherlini joked that he put a pillow over his head during a break at his Capitol Hill home when the scale of the job hit him.

"We'd like to see you more often," one mechanic says. "It's good to bypass all the bosses and see us directly once in a while." Another tells Tangherlini they are appalled at the severance package for White, 54, who received a $238,000 one-time payment and an annual pension of $116,000 for life.

"He's pretty much set for life, isn't he," the mechanic says.

Tangherlini explains that such an arrangement is unlikely to occur again. Tangherlini receives a base salary of $235,000 a year plus an annual contribution of $15,000 toward his retirement. Unlike White, he will not receive a monthly stipend for living expenses or a Metro-issued SUV.

During an inspection of a rail car being outfitted with carpeting, managers explain the lengthy process involved in maintaining carpeting and seat cushions.

Turning to Eugene Garzone, a manager for rail car maintenance, Tangherlini asks:

"Do they need to be carpeted?"

Garzone smiles. "It's a great question," he replies. In some ways, carpeting does not make sense in subway cars. But carpeting and soft cushion seats, he says, are "a luxury the public is grown accustomed to."

But that means Metro has to send 1,800 cushions every two to three weeks to a correctional facility in Virginia for repair and reupholstering. The cost is $27 a cushion.

Garzone shows Tangherlini the gray linoleum that Metro is installing in the rail cab and says he would like to experiment with putting different flooring in the walkway.

"What does it take to make that happen?" Tangherlini asks, scribbling in his notebook.

"You just got to ask the question," Garzone says.

As Tangherlini winds up his stop at the rail yard, Henry Bertagnolli, a top manager at Brentwood who has been serving as unofficial tour guide, tells him that his visit has already boosted morale. Bertagnolli says the last general manager who came to talk to employees unannounced was Carmen E. Turner, a highly popular executive who served from 1983 to 1990.

Later, Tangherlini says that workers "just want a chance to talk to the boss." His challenge will be to channel their suggestions into visible progress. And to keep coming back, he says.