What’s Up? with Merlene

It takes a special person to drive a city bus on various circuitous routes for 33 years and not surrender to the self-image of a hamster in a wheel.

Ronald Lyons is that special person.

Photos by Charles Bertram

“I’ve always enjoyed driving,” he said. “More or less, I am the boss of my own bus.”
Friday, Lyons will retire from LexTran and the Newtown Pike route he has driven for about six years. He has been a bus driver for more than half his 60 years on Earth.
The pride he takes in that tenure shows in how much he is liked by his passengers.
“I’ve been riding with Lyons for about six years,” said William H. Farris, who is a frequent rider. “He is one of the best drivers. He is nice and knows how to treat his customers. He gets us where we need to be on time.”
Lyons deflects the praise, turning it back on the good nature of the people he ferries.
“In a whole month, you get one, maybe two people who just want to start trouble,” he said. “I just treat people the way I want to be treated.”
Driving a bus is a pretty good job, he said, compared to the hard labor of the plumbing and electrical work he tried his hand at. He even earned a barber’s license, but found himself on food stamps and barely making it as he started a family.
His father, William E. Lyons, who was hired in 1937, and his uncle were city bus drivers. His father agreed to put in a word for his son.
A year later, on April 21, 1975, Ronald Lyons was hired.

William Lyons, Ronald Lyons' father, in 1950

Back then, he said, the job required only a chauffeur’s license, which was easy to get. Now a commercial driver’s license is necessary.
Each workday he awakens at 3:40 a.m. He’s in his bus at 5:26 a.m. and drives from 5:36 a.m. to 2:20 p.m.
The responsibility of having people’s lives and livelihoods in his hands caused some stress in his life and tension in his body. It took a while to learn to control that.
Eventually, physical problems surfaced, such as back problems from the jostling of the bus and lack of cushioning and suspension in his seat. And there were the shoulder problems from constantly turning with no power steering.
Driving the newer buses has helped alleviate the physical problems, however, he said.
Plus, he’s had a brick thrown through his windshield while he was driving an empty bus back to the garage. And there was the passenger who had seizures, and the unruly riders he had to stop the bus for while awaiting help from supervisors or the police.
Still, though, he drove on.
Lyons estimates he has trained about 70 other drivers during his career, taking pains to pass on his tip to drive forward at a corner while counting “one, two, three” before turning. It’s his method to get the 40-foot bus around the corner and always end up in the correct lane.
Last year, a near-fatal bout with Legionnaires’ disease caused Lyons to think it was time to hand in his keys.
Lyons left work on Jan. 13, 2007 feeling as weak as he had for about seven months. He and his doctor thought his new blood pressure medicine was the cause.
He soon learned, however, after being rushed to the hospital with kidneys near failure and collapsing lungs, with extreme dehydration and a face as swollen as if he had been “beaten by a bat,” that he had Legionnaires’ disease.
A month later when he was discharged, he walked with the assistance of a walker.
On Aug. 20, 2007, after getting his blood pressure under control again, Lyons returned to work.
But he wasn’t the same man. He was just as nice and considerate, though, and he still lent passengers bus fare unless they had proven themselves to be untrustworthy.
It’s just that Lyons wanted more from life, or maybe less.
Throughout his adult life, he had been known as a player, as evidenced by his five marriages to four women. He’s been married for three years to his current wife, Ruth.
“I was a player,” he said. “Not anymore.”
Lyons said he might decide to work part-time for LexTran or maybe drive a school bus, or maybe just sit at home. He’s not sure. He’s going to take some time to figure things out.
“I want to enjoy life,” he said.
Marlena Herring will miss him. She rides Lyons’ bus three or four times a month in the summer and frequently during the colder months.
“He’s really nice, really friendly,” she said, adding that is a statement that can’t be said of all drivers. “I hate to hear he’s retiring.”
As she arrived at her stop, she took time to give Lyons a hug. A couple of other passengers did, too, wishing him well.
A gold watch pales in comparison to that.