A few months after I moved to Atlanta in 2006 to work for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, I was sent on assignment to the Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority station in Buckhead to interview passengers.
It was early June and the transit system, then the ninth-largest in the U.S., was phasing out tokens in favor of the reusable, electronic Breeze Cards. For almost 30 years, MARTA riders had dropped the mix of metals into fare boxes in exchange for a ride, but with the prospect of saving $10 million in lost revenue, MARTA officials decided to toss the tokens.
I asked riders how they felt about bidding tokens goodbye, and mostly, I got a lot of shoulder shrugs and eye rolls. No one seemed to care about the tokens and they seemed to care even less about MARTA’s precarious finances.
This is when I realized just how ambivalent some Atlantans are about their public transportation system.
“In general, people in Atlanta aren’t really into transit,” rider Wendy Darling said at the time. “It’s not like New York where everyone is into transit.”
Darling lived downtown and was a heavy-duty MARTA rider. She even had a binder of MARTA memorabilia — more than 100 cards featuring artwork and images of prominent Atlantans — that she had collected for almost a decade.
Early this month when MARTA announced its first online merchandise shop, I thought of Darling and how difficult it had been a few decades earlier to drum up anyone who was even remotely nostalgic about MARTA. Back in the day, MARTA issued special tokens to generate additional revenue, now they’ve turned to clothing and other merchandise.
“With options ranging from T-shirts to totes, the MARTA Merch store enables riders and transit fans to showcase their connection to Atlanta’s transit culture,” said a press release marking the opening.
“Atlanta’s transit culture?” That’s a stretch.
Each year from 2020 to 2023, use of MARTA has hovered near 50% of the 2019 pre-pandemic level. Only Atlanta United soccer games and Taylor Swift concerts generate daily ridership comparable to the days when the transit system hosted more than 100 million riders each year.
MARTA’s challenges have been well documented in more than 50 years since it was funded by voters in 1971. It’s hard to build brand loyalty for a system that receives no state funding and limited support for expansion in a metro-area with an entrenched car culture. Bucket hats and backpacks won’t be the impetus that finally rallies Atlanta residents around MARTA.
Who will shell out $25 to $65 for T-shirts and mini Pylon signs bearing station locations? Who has been waiting to upgrade their bathroom with a Breeze Card bath mat or a shower curtain that shows four rail lines to nowhere?
“On a 71 x 74 inch shower curtain, all that white space where trains don’t go really hurts my eyes,” said one of my colleagues.
“Just a daily reminder of how incomplete the system is!” said another.
A few months before the online merch store opened, Atlanta United unveiled its “MARTA Collection,” the first custom retail collaboration between MARTA and a professional sports organization. Given the ridership of Atlanta United fans, it makes sense to build on that momentum. Maybe a Taylor Swift collab is to come?
There is plenty of MARTA memorabilia in online marketplaces to compete with the new official MARTA merch — a necklace made of MARTA tokens, a $400 painting of MARTA along the Beltline, vintage MARTA lapel pins, printed timetables and a pre-owned MARTA uniform. These items somehow feel more authentic, more like preserving a piece of history rather than new merch that distracts us from the real problems.
A few months after I wrote the story about tokens, I took a MARTA ride that I’ll never forget. I was convinced that public transit, if it existed, was meant to be utilized. I was a car owner who cared about the environment and a city dweller who figured that part of my civic duty was supporting and utilizing the rail system whenever possible.
From my apartment on Ponce de Leon Ave., I walked a few blocks to the North Avenue station with plans to meet up with a friend in College Park. The friend, who had lived in Atlanta longer than me, questioned my judgment.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
“Take the train? Of course,” I said, “What’s the big deal?”
My friend explained that he would have to pick me up at the College Park station because there was no easy or timely mode of transportation that would get me from MARTA to our final destination.
It was early December and somewhere between the Garnett and Oakland City stations, a light snow began blowing across the sky. Almost immediately, the train stopped in the middle of the tracks. After what felt like hours, the announcer said the train ride would terminate at Fort McPherson. I ended up shivering on the curb while I waited for my friend to pick me up.
It was a long time before I rode MARTA again.
These aren’t the kinds of experiences that engender loyalty and connection to a transit system but they are the kind of experiences I often hear from riders who want to support public transportation but are disappointed with MARTA.
These are the kind of riders for whom hoodies, onesies, and tote bags emblazoned with the MARTA logo serve as daily reminders of how much more MARTA could be and how frustrated they are with what it has become.
Read more on the Real Life blog (www.ajc.com/opinion/real-life-blog/) and find Nedra on Facebook (www.facebook.com/AJCRealLifeColumn) and X (@nrhoneajc) or email her at nedra.rhone@ajc.com.
