How Metro can miss a body on a train

The news this week that Rockville resident Rickey Jay Van Houter was found dead on an out-of-service Red Line train was a frightening reminder of an experience I had on Metro just a few months ago. Metro managers may think that a "standard visual inspection" should have alerted workers to Van Houter's presence, but I have an idea how he could have been missed.

On April 3, a friend and I boarded an Orange Line train on Capitol Hill for the trip out to Vienna. Not long after we began our journey, we (and many other riders) noticed a passenger who was not behaving normally.

This young man wore dark sunglasses and was moaning quietly with his head on the passenger next to him. When that passenger left the train, another took his place. Before long, the young man's weight shifted, and his head fell onto this woman's shoulder. She, however, pushed him off, and he spent the remainder of the trip with his head against the window. Other passengers took pictures and gawked at the young man. My friend and I weren't sure whether he was sick, drunk or otherwise incapacitated. But it was obvious that something wasn't right.

When we arrived at the Vienna station, at the end of the line, the man did not get up as everyone else began to leave the train. Another man noticed and shook the young man, first gently, then vigorously and finally violently. He still didn't stir. We watched with a small crowd of other passengers from the platform as the doors closed, with both men still on board. The man who had been trying to help the young man had to pry the doors open with his hands to get off the train.

As we took the elevator up from the platform, my friend and I agreed that we could not, in good conscience, leave the station without making sure the young man was being attended to. We went to the booth to report the incident. We were met with impatience.

On the other side of the gate, a Metro worker was talking to a person we took to be an acquaintance. As we approached, he put his hand out for our farecards. We quickly assured him that our tickets were fine and said we had another concern. He made a face as he asked us what was going on. We started to tell him that an apparently unconscious person remained on the train as it pulled away, but he began brushing us off before we could provide any details. He explained that Metro "has personnel specifically for this purpose."

We tried to say more, but the worker again interrupted us, making light of this serious situation. We attempted to explain that the young man appeared to require medical attention. He responded by all but telling us to go away.

We left quite disturbed. We had no way of knowing whether this young man would be all right. How much trouble would it be to radio the "personnel" on the train to ensure they were aware that this young man was there, so that he wouldn't be missed upon inspection? Even more troubling, we could only imagine how important mere moments might be if the young man were truly in serious medical distress. Lives can be saved in moments, but they can be lost just as quickly. This point seemed lost on the Metro worker, who simply went back to his conversation after he got rid of us.

As we left, we paused one last time and looked down at the platform. I'm glad we did. The train returned, and the doors opened. The young man, sunglasses still on, staggered off. We went home relieved that we didn't have to wrestle with feeling somehow responsible for the demise of a Metro passenger.

But as I read the sad story about Rickey Jay Van Houter, all my concerns came back to me. Maybe Metro workers get this kind of report all the time; maybe it's all too routine to find sleeping or sick people on trains. I don't know. All I know is that Van Houter's story proves that Metro workers can overlook a person on a train.

Metro needs to take the concerns of its passengers more seriously. Isn't customer service and safe transportation really the business they're in?