The Resourceful Commuter

When the nation's biggest commuter railroad was shut down by a strike three weeks ago, 85,000 daily riders were faced with the problem of getting to work in New York City. As the Long Island Rail road strike dragged on with little sign of settlement, the hardy commuters last week seemed to have the situation well in hand. Their trips took longer or cost more, but by land, sea and air the daily assault on the city succeeded.

The first rush was to buses. As the queues grew longer and longer, Long Island bus companies pressed some 120 extra buses into service, overloaded the regular runs, still found they were able to take only an additional 25,000 commuters. Most of the railroad regulars then fell back on private autos and car pools. Soon many drivers were getting up at sunrise to beat the bumper-to-bumper traffic on the expressways. Others, map in hand, twisted through country roads and city side streets to avoid the crush, often got lost. "Halfway home," sighed one car-pool commuter, "you usually find you've left somebody back in the city."

For those who could afford it, flying to work proved a solution. From half a dozen points on Long Island, small chartered planes shuttled back and forth, adding extra schedules. Happiest of the displaced commuters were the yachtsmen, who found an excuse to make their weekend seagoing pleasure the necessity for a business day. When the strike began, a Manhattan shirt salesman named J. Stanley Aughenbaugh recruited three riders for his 26-ft. cabin cruiser. They enjoy a leisurely breakfast at sea on the way in and drink cocktails on the long voyage home. "It's so much fun that we may go right on commuting by sea after the strike is over," says he. The big drawback is the travel time: 2 hr. 35 min. v. an hour on the train.

More than a score of Wall Street brokers at Lehman Bros, began commuting by sea, some arriving at work in rumpled, spray-wet marine gear. They changed into business suits at the office. Dock hands at Manhattan's 23rd Street pier dusted off an old rule, hustled to collect a $1.50 "landing charge" for every passenger. So far only one weekday sailor, new to sea commuting, has fallen into the East River. An occasional commuter was heard to grumble: "Maybe they'll find out the Long Island Railroad isn't necessary, and it'll just disappear.'' But the majority were clearly ready and eager to ride the rails again. None will be happier than Commuter Thomas M. Goodfellow, president of the railroad. "Driving to work from my home in Garden City has gotten to be a damnable nuisance," he says. "When we settle the strike, I'm going to be the first commuter on the first train."

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