It was a lesson Broward County bus driver Ken Legler had learned a few times already: When you’re behind the wheel of a mass transit bus, crime-fighting doesn’t pay.
But the police-officer-turned-bus-operator couldn’t overlook what he deemed an altered bus pass. A stickler for the rules, he’d had three previous run-ins with passengers. But this one, in July, ended disastrously: Legler’s suspected fare-dodger, a woman, beat him up. He leapt from the driver’s seat, tussling with her in the aisle as the leviathan vehicle rolled slowly forward, unmanned, on Gateway Boulevard in Pompano Beach.
Legler’s attempt to save the county $2 cost him about $1,000 in a five-day suspension. His bosses told him he wasn’t kind and courteous enough, and should have avoided scrapping with a passenger.
Transit officials said they’re more concerned about safety than busting riders who doctor a bus pass to cheat the system.
“Just look the other way. You’re not a cop anymore,” Legler said one of his superiors told him.
His 49-year-old attacker was charged with battery on the elderly. Legler is 66.
Legler served his suspension this week.
“I get beat up, I get sent to the hospital, and then I’m brought up on charges?” Legler said at his disciplinary hearing. “I’m the victim here.”
County policy on the matter is clear, though: Keep the peace.
Bus drivers are to be “courteous, helpful and patient, avoiding arguments” at all times, the policy manual dictates.
If a driver suspects a fraudulent bus pass, the county demands that the driver “kindly ask the rider to surrender the pass.” If the passenger refuses, the driver isn’t allowed to “to attempt to enforce rules by verbally or physically arguing with any passengers.”
Out of control
Andrea Jamison was polite at first.
“Can I please have my pass?”
Her bus pass had been rejected by the farebox, and Legler noted that its effective dates had been overwritten in blue ink. Legler did quick math; the month pass was allegedly good for 33 days. He tried calling transit authorities to confirm its legitimacy, as his bus cruised along at 45 miles an hour.
Legler refused to return the pass to Jamison, and that’s when she pounced, demanding her pass as her arms flailed around Legler’s head, video footage shows.
“Are you crazy? Are you nuts?” Legler shouted, releasing his seatbelt and jumping out of the driver’s seat.
“The bus is moving!” a passenger warned as it chugged toward an intersection with a red light.
Legler said he thought he’d engaged the emergency brake. He turned and jerked it in place.
He was taken to the hospital, where he said two CAT scans revealed a concussion.
Jamison, who also goes by “Andea,” was arrested, and not for the first time, records show. Jamison’s been charged over the years with committing offenses from shoplifting to disorderly conduct to aggravated assault with a weapon. The State Attorney’s Office hasn’t decided whether to prosecute in the bus episode, spokesman Ron Ishoy said.
Broward County Transit, which has been criticized for lax discipline of errant drivers, in this case found itself accused by Legler of going overboard.
Transit spokeswoman Mary Shaffer said the severity of discipline “was based solely on the egregious nature of the possible additional consequences that could have been suffered by, not only the operator but the passengers, in the event that there had been an accident resulting from the confrontation over the altered pass.”
Before grabbing the county bus wheel for the first time in 1986, Legler was in law enforcement.
He worked as a Miami police officer, then briefly as a cop in Dania Beach. The end was sour.
He said Dania Beach police leaders came unraveled when he revealed in traffic court that the city had a two-ticket quota per day. He resigned in the aftermath. State records at the Florida Department of Law Enforcement show he was given a “do not rehire” designation, but Dania Beach officials said they have nothing on file reflecting it.
Keeping tabs
Legler’s his personnel file shows he’s been vigilant about bus fares — and been suspended for it — before.
When cane-carrying Alfred Smith boarded Legler’s bus in 2009 and crossed the yellow line without paying, Legler told him he’d broken the law, documents recounting the incident say.
The situation quickly deteriorated. Smith, who said he was merely setting items down so he could swipe his bus pass, erupted in a “tirade,” Legler claimed, prompting Legler to call the cops.
Legler wrote in his report to bosses that, “in compliance with Florida Statute 14-90, I summoned the Fort Lauderdale police officer on duty. Subject remained abusive and ordered off the bus. He was ordered not to return or he would be arrested for trespassing.”
But it was Legler who got in trouble, suspended three days for demanding that Smith get off his bus later that day. Police had not issued a trespass warning, as Legler had claimed; rather, they’d told Smith he could ride Legler’s bus whenever he wanted.
Another bus rider sued Legler and the county after a 2008 fracas in which he claimed Legler “assaulted and poked” him after accusing him of evading the fare.
When Legler called the police, officers arrested the man on an outstanding warrant. The imprisoned passenger claimed Legler unlawfully detained him, locking him in the bus while waiting for police.
Legler said the county settled the case. Details of the settlement were not readily available.
In 1999, Legler was accused of initiating a “physical confrontation with a patron” who tried to board the bus. Legler had called police about the passenger the day before, and claimed police had issued a trespass warning.
Legler’s bosses said that wasn’t the case, and accused him of using “extremely poor judgment,” exercising authority that as a bus driver, he didn’t possess.
Legler attributed some of his work troubles to conflict with a former boss, a conflict rooted in Legler’s attempt to have him arrested for allegedly violating public records law.
The boss wasn’t arrested, but Legler said the two “butted heads for years” after that.
In the present case, Legler is appealing the suspension, hoping to see it reversed.
Staff researcher Barbara Hijek contributed to this report.
bwallman@tribune.com or 954-356-4541
