Those readers who actual read this blog may recall a short version of the story in an old post.
Given that photos of the TSA master keys recently caused a stir, followed by the supposed keys to New York City, I'll give you more detailed version of what it is like to find the keys to one of the largest mass transit systems in the U.S., the Bay Area Rapid Transit system that connects San Francisco, California, with a vast network of cities and towns on the Eastern shores of the bay and the airport to the south.
The area around our house seemed to attract trash, both from small trucks that went around the curve too fast and from people who were too lazy to take chairs, metal, and various trash to the dump.
So, the pile looked like another annoyance requiring a call to the city to get them to pick it up as well as a lengthy explanation as to why we would - counter to existing regulations - not pay for them to do this.
What was different this time, though, was the amount of paper. Jumbled stacks of paper shared the curb with some broken tools and some torn clothes. The first item that caught my attention was a bright read binder with the letters BART and the logo of the transport agency.
I picked it up, opened it and was stunned to see it contained the whole wiring system of the electrical power supply for BART, including switching stations, signal posts, the whole deal.
There was a large number of fold-out pages, densely packed with everything from Concord in the East Bay to Fremont in the South, from Oakland to Colma - with the transbay tunnel in between.
Rummaging, a train manual (in blue, if you need to know) was next. Okay, I really considered keeping this one for laughs, but didn't.
The keys were last. Two metal key rings, each about three inches in diameter, packed with keys, a pound and a half to two in weight. Small triangular and square box keys, larger old fashioned keys, security keys, including DO NOT DUPLICATE. One key ring seemed to be for trains - you can get an idea of keys used for a train if you ride for as many years as I had.
The other presumably was for the infrastructure documented in the red (landscape format) manual.
This was getting ridiculous.
Once satisfied there were no more keys or manuals, I ignored the rest and headed into the house.
After some more nosing around in the manuals to see if they were up to date - they were - I took the keys to the nearest BART station. The manuals went into the paper recycling bin. I know, not very nice, but hey.
I walked up to the grey haired white male in his fifties who manned the both at the fair gates and said: Hi, I think this belongs to you, stretching out my hands with the key rings.
He became a shade whiter, really, and stuttered: Where, where'd you get this?
From burst trash bags on the curb at XXXXX.
He took the keys in silence, as I turned around, wishing him a nice day. He remained silent, never asked for my name.
Lessons learned from this
Security is mostly an illusion, a story we tell ourselves.
Document any find. In the unlikely event, anybody at BART reads this, they have the easy option of mumbling something about unproven or not up to date.
This was before a white dude killed Oscar Grant. After the Grant killing, I decided, for any future finds of significance, the local TV station would be the destination.
One more thing:
I'd love to make a Matrix joke about the blue & the red of the manuals. Any objections?
[Update] Unfriendly reference replaced.
[Update 2: Reasons for keeping mum at the time]
Some poor BART worker might have lost his or her job. The London and Madrid terrorist attacks still made the news often enough to make low key handling [pardon the pun] of the find the reasonable thing to do.
Neither talking to the transit cops nor their more professional incarnations seemed worthwhile, and seeing the keys and the manuals accompanied by some hysterical "OMG, what if" headlines, well...
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