Bear in mind, however, many of the sidewalks are made of brick, which means the ride is uneven and bumpy.  And you have to be very aware of the curb cuts as they can be steep and uneven.  I also found the crosswalks in rough shape as the streets take a beating every winter.   But given Boston’s size, my Pride Victory took me every where with ease.  And that includes two trips on the Green Line!

To backtrack a bit, from 1971 to 1973 I attended the two-year liberal arts-secretarial program at Katharine Gibbs, the “Harvard” of secretarial schools in Boston. For anyone who might think secretarial school would be a breeze, think again.  It was a tough, rigorous two years with constant testing for speed and accuracy in shorthand and typing, spelling (without spellcheck), proofreading (reading backwards with a ruler) and business writing.  We used all ten fingers at the time . . .  believe it or not by the end of the two years we were a smaller group as some students couldn’t take the pressure. 

Many long-lasting friendships were forged during those two years.  One of my best friends from that time now lives in Kennebunk, Maine. Until COVID we’d been in the habit of getting together at least once a year, but a combination of illness in both our families and then the restrictions of COVID, we had not seen one another since 2018.  Getting together in person this year was a must, and Boston was the perfect place to do it.  But the only way I could do all the things we had on our agenda would be if I could use my scooter.  So we both did some research, decided weather permitting, it was doable and made our reservations.  As much as we both like snow, for a month we prayed for no snow from February 6 to February 8 and the heavens accommodated.

Getting There:

Amtrak:

For me it was back to Amtrak.  This time things went more smoothly than my trip to WDC in December.  Supposedly they had my name, but I didn’t detect any special acknowledgement when I showed my QR Code at the Red Cap desk.  But that didn’t matter.  The Red Caps were having a slow morning, and everyone was relaxed and chatty.  It was suggested I hang out in their waiting area; they would come get me when the train was on its way into the station.  What I didn’t remember from making my reservation a month earlier, was that heading to Boston I would be riding the Acela business class and that was certainly an upgrade from the regular coach ticket I had for the ride back.  Right on time the Red Cap sought me out and down we headed to the platform. 

While the train was level to the platform, he placed a metal plate to cover the gap and before I knew it, I was on the train, easily riding through the doors and parking in the designated wheelchair spot. No need for the red cap or conductor to manipulate the scooter as they have to do on the other trains.  I switched over to the train seat and was delighted to find it very roomy with a foldable table that hides away if you don’t need it.  Two three-pronged outlets were at knee level. 

One restroom was only a few feet away with a wheelchair accessible restroom just inside the next car. The café was located at the opposite end of that car and it too could accommodate a wheelchair if necessary. About halfway through the ride I decided to get a cup of coffee, but quickly realized I couldn’t carry hot coffee and walk back to my seat.  I needed both hands to hold on to the walls while walking.  Seeing my dilemma one of the conductors, enjoying a cup of coffee himself, offered to help and escorted me back to my seat.  All good.

Our hotel was closer to the Back Bay stop so I disembarked there.  The station was built in the late 70’s and is rather dark and ugly, but having used it many times over the years, I knew where I was going.  The conductor got another metal plate for me to drive off the train safely and pointed me toward the elevator which is at the back of the station going north.  It suddenly hit me what if it wasn’t working?  What the heck would I do then, but thankfully it was working and I was out on the street in minutes. 

The return trip to New York was more work. There are no porters or red caps at Back Bay. A woman at the ticket window told me she would meet me on the platform to help get me on the train; she would get the plate to bridge the gap etc. I was nervous that there would be a glitch with this and so I stayed nearby until it was time to go down to the train. She took the stairs while I went for the elevator.

Don’t you know the door to the elevator got stuck in the open position and for a brief minute I panicked. I was the only one in the elevator with no way to tell her I was upstairs trying to get down. Desperate to get the elevator moving, I shoved the doors back (a trick I learned from the NYC subway elevators), hit the close button again and thank God, they moved shut. The elevator delivered me to the platform where she was just arriving.

She instructed me to follow her about four cars down explaining that would be the car with wheelchair seating. While I drove onto the train, I did have to get off so that she and the conductor could manipulate it into the car itself. Once there, I parked it and moved to a seat where I stayed for the full ride. One of the conductors asked me if I had been on the Acela two days before . . . he had been on the train too and remembered me. When we pulled into New York, he came to get the scooter and once on the platform I got on and rode upstairs into the station, out to the subway and was home in about 20 minutes. It had been a wonderful 3 days.

Information about where we stayed and what we did will be in the next blog posts.