On Joan Ringer’s first trip to Washington, D.C., as a teenager, she rode there on an Anderson bus driven by O.D. Anderson himself.
Decades later, 1,200 more words
Martì – the sound of his name – begged her, “Why go through this all the time?” “Not all the time. Now.” “On the bus?” The lady, another, who had marched into the vehicle earlier enquiring whether there was a strike on? 118 more words
The only sounds on a motorcoach at 3 in the morning come from the engine. The handful of people who boarded in Greenville, Pennsylvania had gratefully shoved pillows between their heads and the window or the headrest and napped. 1,338 more words
Just before lunchtime today, a young woman is said to have been subjected to a bus journey of near horror.
Upon siting down behind a young man, whom, the young woman was quick to add “looked like he’d had anything but a sober night last night”, the young woman is said to have felt immediate sympathy. 101 more words