That moment when you’re on BART hurtling through the pitch black Transbay Tube, knowing that at the end of this 7-1/2 min ride, you will arrive. In San Francisco.
Tag: BART
My BART: A Sort of Memoir about my Father
When my dad died in 1993, the BART Board of Directors sent a funeral flower wreath. It was in the shape of the BART logo. Really. A blue and white ba. My family was honored, but my cousins and I thought it was the ugliest thing we’d seen in a long time. Especially after my…
