The Green Line

My dad rode the Green Line into Boston for almost twenty-four years.

He worked building maintenance at a hospital, mostly nights. He knew every shortcut through the basement, every elevator that made noise, and which vending machine stole your change. He came home when we were leaving for school and still asked about homework before he went to sleep.

In winter he kept extra gloves in his bag because somebody always forgot theirs.

Massachusetts has plenty of famous names. This one is for a man who kept hallways warm, lights on, and his family steady without ever asking for credit.