Forty Years of Stories: Retired Metro Drivers Keep Monthly Breakfast Tradition Alive

SOUTH PORTLAND — On the third Wednesday of each month, a group of retired bus drivers gathers at Friendly's restaurant along Maine Mall Road. They arrive around 9 a.m., claim their usual table, and spend the next 90 minutes swapping stories, debating sports, and catching up on each other's lives.

The tradition has continued for about 20 years, bringing together former Greater Portland Metro employees who collectively spent nearly three centuries behind the wheel of a city bus.

"We tell each other lies, you know what I'm saying? Horsin' around. Just stories," said John Baker, 84, of Westbrook, who began his career with the Portland Coach Company on January 1, 1966 — the same day a transit strike shut down bus service in New York City.

The group originally met at an IHOP location but relocated to Friendly's several years ago after the pancake house changed ownership and, as one member put it, the service went downhill. Despite rumors that the Friendly's might be demolished to make way for a hotel development, the drivers have no plans to abandon their ritual.

"It's just a big car," said retired driver Dave Geistert, describing the work. "You have to know your mirrors and you have to know a little bit about physics and algebra to negotiate the length."

Bill Nickerson, 82, took over organizing the monthly gatherings about 10 years ago when a predecessor moved to Florida. The job includes reserving the table, coordinating with the restaurant, and ensuring everyone gets their preferred seat.

"Nobody else wants to do it," Nickerson said. "But it means a lot to me to be having everybody here."

A Career That Became a Calling

For these drivers, the bus was more than a job — it became a way of life. Some always knew they wanted to drive. Nickerson grew up near the end of the line at Stanwood Park in South Portland, where a friendly driver would let the young boy climb aboard during layovers and pretend to steer. He signed on with the transit service in 1970.

"You had a break-in period where you rode with somebody to learn the routes, then you drove the routes with somebody, and then, bang, you went out on your own," Nickerson recalled.

John Gaudet, 83, of Westbrook spent 34 years with Metro after a friend told him about job openings in 1973. He waited nearly eight hours to meet with a manager but was hired the same day — and paid for his time.

"I went down on Friday at 6:00 in the morning, and I never got to see the boss until 1:30 in the afternoon," Gaudet said. "I thought to myself, 'I'll try it for one year.' That year went by fast. Pretty soon I had 25 years in it, and I couldn't give it up then."

Walter Burney Sr., 82, nearly quit after his first week on the job.

"I was kind of nervous at first. I think I only worked a week or so and I wanted to quit," Burney remembered. "I went in the office and gave my notice, and the manager said, 'You're not giving yourself enough time.' He said, 'Stick it out.'"

Burney followed that advice for 36 more years, earning the nickname "By-the-book Burney" for his strict adherence to company rules. His colleagues teased him about his careful driving style.

"They used to always tell me throttle on the right, brake is on the left. I didn't go fast enough, in other words," Burney said with a laugh. "They made fun of me. I get there safely and that's all I care about."

Brian Coyne took a different path, spending 30 years in sales before starting at Metro at age 60. He stayed for a decade.

"You have to listen to people, right? Someone's going to work gets on the bus, be cheerful. 'Good morning! How you doing?' Have a little conversation," said Coyne, 77.

Finding Love on the Route

Several drivers in the group met their wives through the job. John Swan, 75, of Standish drove commuters to work for years before answering a newspaper advertisement that brought him back to Maine from Texas in 1988. Among his regular riders was Meredith Fogg, who would eventually become his second wife.

"I did something I said I would never do," Swan said. "I fell in love with a passenger."

Fogg worked as a hostess on a luxury Trailways bus, a position designed to compete with the glamour of airline travel during that era. She often joins her husband at the monthly breakfasts now.

"Some people don't realize the responsibilities associated with the bus driver. They think it's just, you go drive the bus. Well, there's a lot to it that doesn't meet the eye," Fogg said. "You have to be very responsible and responsive. You can't have some looney tune out there driving the bus."

Joe and Diane Gaudette of Buxton also met on the job. Diane was among the first women hired as a bus driver for the service in 1993, previously working as a school bus driver. She drove for 19 years before retiring.

"When word got out (among passengers) that we were going to get married, everybody wanted to come to the wedding," Joe Gaudette said. "If we'd invited everybody that wanted to come, we'd have had 400 people there."

Joe Gaudette, 78, described the appeal of the career simply: "You weren't in an office or in a warehouse with somebody looking over your shoulder. You were the captain of the ship."

Handling the Challenges

The job came with its share of difficulties. Drivers dealt with fare evasion attempts, unruly passengers, and occasional confrontations with other motorists. Baker recalled passengers who would praise his timing, telling him he was "right on the money" as he pulled up to Morrills Corner precisely when the clock indicated.

Gaudet remembered one incident where an angry driver pulled alongside his bus at a red light and screamed profanities. Gaudet's response was unexpected.

"I stuck my fingers in my ears and wiggled them," Gaudet said. "He got laughing so hard, his false teeth went sideways in his mouth, and everybody on the bus is busting out laughing."

Some drivers found creative ways to brighten passengers' days. Coyne recalled a young man who boarded looking "shattered" after a breakup. Coyne offered some advice.

"Listen, women are like buses. If you miss one, there'll be another one along very soon," Coyne told him.

Baker still keeps his old bus driver uniform and his Army uniform in storage. He served in the military before beginning his transit career, which ended in 2004 after 38 years of service.

The Value of Connection

Karl Schatz, co-founder of the nonprofit Community Plate, which organizes communal meals across Maine, said research consistently shows the benefits of eating together.

"Definitely people who are sharing more meals are happier," Schatz said.

For the Metro retirees, the monthly breakfast provides more than just food — it's a chance to maintain friendships formed over decades of shared work.

When Jeff Murdock, 74, who drove for the service from 1977 to 1985, showed up for his first breakfast recently, the group welcomed him back warmly.

"You guys are shaking the cobwebs loose," Murdock said as the conversation flowed between talk of winter driving conditions, military equipment, union history, and old workplace pranks.

As the gathering wound down around 10:30 a.m., Dale Kelly, 73, who worked at Metro from 1974 to 1982, prepared to leave after his inaugural attendance.

"See you next month," he said, shaking hands with Baker.

"Good Lord willing," Baker replied.

The group will gather again in a month, as they have for two decades, to share breakfast, stories, and the camaraderie that comes from a lifetime spent navigating city streets together.