'I am somebody': Riders' attitudes get a lift
By TIM CANDON [email protected]; 918-1050
Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, December 26, 2001
Final Edition
Front Section
Page 1
CHAPEL HILL - "My name is Robert. I'd like to say good morning to all the ladies and gentlemen on the bus today," Robert Moore Jr. announces to his passengers.
"Good morning, Robert," they reply to the Chapel Hill Transit bus driver.
"I want everybody to look to your left or to your right," Moore continues, "and tell the person sitting next to you, 'Good morning. Have a nice day.' "
"Good morning. Have a nice day," the 15 passengers, mostly students, on the U bus tell each other. They smile and look puzzled, but do as they're asked.
"Is everybody ready for today's motto?" Moore asks.
"Yes," the passengers reply.
"I am somebody," Moore says.
"I am somebody," the passengers reply.
Each day, the 53-year-old Haw River resident greets his passengers this way. Whether passengers get off at the Carolina Coffee Shop or on at the Student Union, Moore turns on his microphone and repeats in a deep, raspy Southern twang, "I am somebody."
"We've got to learn how to reverse bad attitudes," he said.
He even keeps a small wastebasket at the front of his bus for people to put their bad attitudes in when they get on.
"When they get off, they can take it with them because I don't want it," he said. "Being happy comes natural. My personality overrides negativity. Some people dwell on negative stuff; I don't."
Most passengers respond to Moore, but sometimes no one says a word. That doesn't bother him, though.
"If they don't respond, they still hear me," he said. "If they hear it enough, it's going to affect them in some kind of way."
Moore, who was born and raised in Graham, was affected in part by the couple he worked for as a boy - James and Marie Rogers, who owned a grocery, a pool hall and real estate office in the town.
"I did everything there but sleep," Moore recalled.
When he was 8 years old, the couple suggested Moore, who had six sisters and one brother, move in with them. His parents, who didn't have a lot of money, agreed but remained his legal guardians, and Moore saw them just about every day.
The Rogerses were able to provide him with "a better life and more opportunities," he said, and he was comfortable moving in with them as he already spent the majority of his time there.
But his sister Frances, who drowned when Moore was 14, also would affect his life. Her death taught him how precious life is, he said, and the need to know how to swim.
"My friends and I used to go to the park and pretend to save each other, so we could learn how to swim," he said.
Before working for Chapel Hill Transit, Moore worked for the N.C. Department of Correction, the bus service American Tours in Greensboro and the bottling company Triton Water Co. in Burlington.
While at Triton, a co-worker told Moore that Chapel Hill Transit was hiring bus drivers, and Moore began working for the town in 1997.
As required, he would announce to passengers each stop on his route, but, he said, "I thought I'd add more to it to make the ride more enjoyable."
He started out by simply getting on the bus' public address system and saying, "Hi. I am somebody."
"Everybody is somebody regardless of what you have or don't have. I try to convince everybody of that," said Moore, who found himself thinking after about six months on the job that higher-income people in Chapel Hill seemed materialistic and felt as if they were better than everyone else.
Moore would tell his passengers, "I am somebody."
But they wanted more, and he gave it to them.
"All things are possible because I am somebody," Moore now tells his riders. "I will strive hard to achieve positive things because I am somebody."
Oriane Debord and Gena Appleby, two seniors visiting Chapel Hill from the University of Wisconsin at Madison, agreed that that's "a good thing to hear when you get on a bus."
Whenever Moore comes up with a new motto, he takes it to his superiors to make sure it's OK to use it.
"I don't want to do anything to cause friction with me and my job," he said.
Although Moore has adopted "I am somebody" as his motto, the Rev. Jesse Jackson and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. made the phrase famous.
But it was Moore's sister Clara who said it even before them, Moore said.
When they were growing up, Clara used to say, "I am somebody," even when she was having a bad day, Moore recalled. And it stuck with him.
"Everyone said it," Moore said, "but I want everyone to believe it."
After telling people they're somebody all day, no one greets Moore at home to remind him he's somebody, too. Moore is divorced, but he refuses to let that get him down.
"I lost a good friend," he said, "but I wasn't going to lose everything I gained in my life. Life goes on because I am somebody.
Moore also has a son, Mario, 23. They're not as close as they were during Mario's childhood because, "He wants to be his own person, so I let him," Moore said.
"But I love him to death. He's my son," he said.
Moore, who plays softball and lifts weights in his spare time, doesn't have any heroes but "admires anyone who can go out and speak their mind," he said.
"I look up to God and respect everyone because they are somebody," he said.
However, not everyone seems to appreciate Moore's preaching, which has resulted in some complaints.
In one instance, a rider who did not identify himself called the transit office and said he wanted to ride the bus in quiet so he could "read the paper and meditate," Moore recalled.
Moore said he told his director he would handle it. The next day, he told his riders about the complaint and apologized to the anonymous rider but said he would not stop. His passengers applauded.
"I won't let them deter me from my thoughts," he said. "I'm telling the truth."
And others might start taking up Moore's preaching.
"Robert's a good person. He's not harming anybody," friend and co-worker Deborah Yancey said. "I've been thinking about getting on the mike myself."
"I'm going to keep doing it as long as I'm here," Moore said, adding that "maybe sitting here to get people to realize who they are" is his mission in life.
"If you can smile for a moment in a day's time, that's a big deal," he said. "I can make you smile by saying three words: I am somebody."
'I am somebody': Riders' attitudes get a lift
By TIM CANDON [email protected]; 918-1050
Chapel Hill Herald
Wednesday, December 26, 2001
Final Edition
Front Section
Page 1
CHAPEL HILL - "My name is Robert. I'd like to say good morning to all the ladies and gentlemen on the bus today," Robert Moore Jr. announces to his passengers.
"Good morning, Robert," they reply to the Chapel Hill Transit bus driver.
"I want everybody to look to your left or to your right," Moore continues, "and tell the person sitting next to you, 'Good morning. Have a nice day.' "
"Good morning. Have a nice day," the 15 passengers, mostly students, on the U bus tell each other. They smile and look puzzled, but do as they're asked.
"Is everybody ready for today's motto?" Moore asks.
"Yes," the passengers reply.
"I am somebody," Moore says.
"I am somebody," the passengers reply.
Each day, the 53-year-old Haw River resident greets his passengers this way. Whether passengers get off at the Carolina Coffee Shop or on at the Student Union, Moore turns on his microphone and repeats in a deep, raspy Southern twang, "I am somebody."
"We've got to learn how to reverse bad attitudes," he said.
He even keeps a small wastebasket at the front of his bus for people to put their bad attitudes in when they get on.
"When they get off, they can take it with them because I don't want it," he said. "Being happy comes natural. My personality overrides negativity. Some people dwell on negative stuff; I don't."
Most passengers respond to Moore, but sometimes no one says a word. That doesn't bother him, though.
"If they don't respond, they still hear me," he said. "If they hear it enough, it's going to affect them in some kind of way."
Moore, who was born and raised in Graham, was affected in part by the couple he worked for as a boy - James and Marie Rogers, who owned a grocery, a pool hall and real estate office in the town.
"I did everything there but sleep," Moore recalled.
When he was 8 years old, the couple suggested Moore, who had six sisters and one brother, move in with them. His parents, who didn't have a lot of money, agreed but remained his legal guardians, and Moore saw them just about every day.
The Rogerses were able to provide him with "a better life and more opportunities," he said, and he was comfortable moving in with them as he already spent the majority of his time there.
But his sister Frances, who drowned when Moore was 14, also would affect his life. Her death taught him how precious life is, he said, and the need to know how to swim.
"My friends and I used to go to the park and pretend to save each other, so we could learn how to swim," he said.
Before working for Chapel Hill Transit, Moore worked for the N.C. Department of Correction, the bus service American Tours in Greensboro and the bottling company Triton Water Co. in Burlington.
While at Triton, a co-worker told Moore that Chapel Hill Transit was hiring bus drivers, and Moore began working for the town in 1997.
As required, he would announce to passengers each stop on his route, but, he said, "I thought I'd add more to it to make the ride more enjoyable."
He started out by simply getting on the bus' public address system and saying, "Hi. I am somebody."
"Everybody is somebody regardless of what you have or don't have. I try to convince everybody of that," said Moore, who found himself thinking after about six months on the job that higher-income people in Chapel Hill seemed materialistic and felt as if they were better than everyone else.
Moore would tell his passengers, "I am somebody."
But they wanted more, and he gave it to them.
"All things are possible because I am somebody," Moore now tells his riders. "I will strive hard to achieve positive things because I am somebody."
Oriane Debord and Gena Appleby, two seniors visiting Chapel Hill from the University of Wisconsin at Madison, agreed that that's "a good thing to hear when you get on a bus."
Whenever Moore comes up with a new motto, he takes it to his superiors to make sure it's OK to use it.
"I don't want to do anything to cause friction with me and my job," he said.
Although Moore has adopted "I am somebody" as his motto, the Rev. Jesse Jackson and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. made the phrase famous.
But it was Moore's sister Clara who said it even before them, Moore said.
When they were growing up, Clara used to say, "I am somebody," even when she was having a bad day, Moore recalled. And it stuck with him.
"Everyone said it," Moore said, "but I want everyone to believe it."
After telling people they're somebody all day, no one greets Moore at home to remind him he's somebody, too. Moore is divorced, but he refuses to let that get him down.
"I lost a good friend," he said, "but I wasn't going to lose everything I gained in my life. Life goes on because I am somebody.
Moore also has a son, Mario, 23. They're not as close as they were during Mario's childhood because, "He wants to be his own person, so I let him," Moore said.
"But I love him to death. He's my son," he said.
Moore, who plays softball and lifts weights in his spare time, doesn't have any heroes but "admires anyone who can go out and speak their mind," he said.
"I look up to God and respect everyone because they are somebody," he said.
However, not everyone seems to appreciate Moore's preaching, which has resulted in some complaints.
In one instance, a rider who did not identify himself called the transit office and said he wanted to ride the bus in quiet so he could "read the paper and meditate," Moore recalled.
Moore said he told his director he would handle it. The next day, he told his riders about the complaint and apologized to the anonymous rider but said he would not stop. His passengers applauded.
"I won't let them deter me from my thoughts," he said. "I'm telling the truth."
And others might start taking up Moore's preaching.
"Robert's a good person. He's not harming anybody," friend and co-worker Deborah Yancey said. "I've been thinking about getting on the mike myself."
"I'm going to keep doing it as long as I'm here," Moore said, adding that "maybe sitting here to get people to realize who they are" is his mission in life.
"If you can smile for a moment in a day's time, that's a big deal," he said. "I can make you smile by saying three words: I am somebody." |
