It is a testament to someone’s memory at the NYT when they can write a column dovetailing the events of the Jet Blue flight attendant who executed his own outplacement procedure with that of a bus driver, William Cimillo, who, in 1947, drove his Bronx bus to Florida’s Gulfstream Park racetrack and wasn’t heard from for four days, until he needed $50 wired to him.
The recent episode of the Jet Blue flight attendant who, fed up with passenger rudeness over barbell luggage clunking him on the coconut, berates the captive passengers on manners, and then grabs a few beers and activates the emergency slide and then runs away, is a startling echo of Bill and the bus. Both men were fed up with what they were putting up with from the public, and just plain bolted.
Jack Parr, the late night Tonight show host before Johnny Carson became so fed up with the nitpicking of the NBC censors that he announced there had to be a better way to make a living, and just plain left the show. He proved there really was a better way to make a living when he relocated in Maine, owning some radio and TV stations.
Dan Rather had his own moment of pique when he wasn’t at the anchor desk for several minutes when they were broadcasting live. He didn’t get fired, but eventually did himself in when he didn’t want to believe that something was a hoax.
Bill and the bus became such a story that news items appeared in the Times 11 times in a nearly a three week period. There was nearly a story every other day. The first story appeared in the papers on April 1st, generally known as April Fools' Day. But of course Mr. Cimillo hadn't been kidding. He really did take the bus, play the horses and later had to wire the boss for $50.
The story stayed in the papers until April 19, the day after he started back on the job. In between his surrender and return there had been an arrest, indictments, and the airing of a little dirty laundry when it is disclosed he had been arrested and fined twice for bookkmaking. This couldn't be missed, when one story's headline blared: "Errant Bus Driver Called a Bookie." The ignominy of it all.
The Jet Blue flight attendant, Steven Slater, has become a celebrity. Mr. Cimillo did as well, receiving a benefit dinner from his friends to help with the legal expenses. He was on shows. He went to California with his wife. Years later there was even a proposed movie with Elizabeth Taylor in the works, that for several reasons didn’t get past the planning stage. Mr. Cimillo eventually got his job back, and strayed no more.
There are several things to marvel at about the bus detour. The first is that a fully marked NYC bus can appear in Florida and not attract too much attention. Myself being a bit of a racetrack denizen clearly remembers the era when there were usually all kinds of commercial vehicles parked at Aqueduct by guys who were at the track hoping to hit the Daily Double, a linked bet on the first two races. In that era it was the only type of “exotic” wager there was. The parking lot would empty out a bit after the second race became official. UPS and other trucks were back on the road.
So Bill’s bus, “a red-and-green job with a silver roof," as described in the first Times story is hiding in plain sight. It’s the kind of bus I remember on the city’s streets. It’s the kind of bus Robert DeNiro drove in “A Bronx Tale.”
The other aspect is Mr. Cimillo must have been a pretty good horse player to hang out in Florida for several days before tapping out. People aren’t always given enough credit for what they accomplish.
And as much attention the bus caper got, when Mr. Cimillo passed away in 1975 there wasn’t any evidence that the Times noted it in a news item obituary. Times change. Today, that wouldn’t be the case.
Today’s obituaries are known to capture unusual highlights of people’s lives, no matter who they are. The highlight is the thing. This is easily noted by anyone who reads obituaries these days. Only a few weeks ago the Times did a news story obituary about the man who scored a 100 on a NYC Sanitation pre-employment physical test. The test was considered the Superman test, and Bill McCabe, in 1940 was the first and only person to score that high.
Mr. Slater from Jet Blue will forever be remembered by today’s tabloid headlines: 'Flying High'; 'Bag Nazi.' And his ultimate fate is still unraveling before our eyes. The umpire, James Joyce, who blew the call on what would have been a perfect game, will forever be enshrined in an obituary lede.
So, in a way, did Mr. Cimillo get cheated by not being remembered in 1975 for what he did in 1947? Hardly. Thanks to someone’s memory and database retrievals, Bill’s son, now 75, gets to read about Dad again, and know that others have read about him as well.
Forms of recognition can sometimes take a long time.
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