Making the Wheels Turn: A Look Inside The Everyday Lives of MBTA Workers

Torres tracks the trains' headway, or the time they arrive at the station. "[If too many trains come in a row] we hold the follower, so they won’t be back to back, because it wouldn’t be fair for the passengers," said Torres. "If [the trains] are running late ... then ... we try to adjust the headway in the subway. It's a lot more involved than being a driver."

Torres and another inspector work to put out a track fire at Fenway Station on the Green Line in Boston. The fire started after some dry leaves heated up on the track, which Torres said was likely due to the heated track, and friction.

Torres investigates a report of an unattended package on a train at Fenway, while waiting for the all-clear signal on the track fire. "The first priority of the T is safety," said Torres. "Regardless of what happens, safety is the first priority, so we can’t rush through things."

Torres waits for a train back to Kenmore Station, after getting the all-clear signal on the track fire at Fenway Station.

Torres smiles as he hangs up the phone in the inspector's booth at Kenmore Station. He said continuously tracking and adjusting train schedules is stressful work, but also rewarding. "Sometimes, the stress makes the day go by quicker, because once you get involved in something, you stay focused on that," said Torres. "If there is a mistake, or a big problem, you can put your effort into solving it. You know that you’re helping the system -- helping the passengers get their trips back on time."

Inspector Bill Hubert, left, talks with an operator inside the Haymarket Station in Boston on Dec. 7, 2014. Hubert says one of his favorite aspects of the job is his fellow MBTA employees. "They are a lot of fun to work with," said Hubert. "There are a lot of good people here."

Hubert tracks trains, while helping a passenger navigate the Green Line. This customer was grateful, but Hubert has not always been so lucky. "It’s tough, because the public perception is that ... we suck," said Hubert of the public's perception of the MBTA. "A lot of people get mad at you. Like, if they don’t have money on their card, they get mad at you, because they see a train, and they’re like, ‘Let me on!’"

Hubert stands inside the Haymarket Station, halfway through his shift. Though the MBTA runs a 24-hour operation, Hubert doesn't stay overnight -- most of the time. "I was outside all night long," Hubert said of one of January 2014's major snow storms. "[But] I was ready for it. I had food for three days ... a change of clothes for three days, blankets, pillows, everything." But Hubert's somewhat unpredictable schedule is normal -- "We have crazy shifts," said Hubert. "My girlfriend doesn't like it all that much, but it is what it is, I guess."

A teddy bear sits in the Haymarket Station inspector's office. Hubert does not know where the toy came from.

Kevin Mackey, right, and another mechanic check over a train's inspection report at the Reservoir car depot.

Chief mechanic Ed Igoe surveys the car depot. Igoe has been a mechanic for several years, but hasn't always worked for the MBTA. "Most of us actually came from the Post Office!" said Igoe.

Mechanic John Dacey sits atop a train car, as he waits for a fellow mechanic to test the car's pantograph, the mechanism on top of the train that allows it to collect electricity to move. Dacey must make sure he steers clear of the pantograph and associated parts, when testing its functionality: The wire along which the pantograph runs acts as the train's third rail, and has 600 volts running through it -- five times the voltage of a standard U.S. wall socket.

An American flag, seen through the handicap sticker inside a train undergoing repairs at the depot.

Igoe walks beneath a train at the depot.

An old photograph of a young girl hangs on the wall of the depot. According to Igoe, legend has it that it is the image of a recently-retired mechanic. "But I don't know if it's true," said Igoe.

MBTA car operator Chris Lione, left, stands quietly in the break area at the Boston College stop in Boston, before starting his last run on Dec. 20, 2014. "I really try to lay low," said Lione. "Sometimes, it can be a little soap opera-ish. ... Don’t get me wrong -- I’ve gone out with people from work, and had a few drinks here and there, things like that. … But, generally speaking, I don’t really hang around with that many people from work in my own, personal social life. Maybe everyone else does. I really don’t know."

Hats hang along the pipes of the break room. Lione, right, said he thinks they are hats of retired MBTA operators, but he is uncertain.

Passengers ride Lione's train across the Boston University Bridge. Lione thinks above-ground car operation is more difficult than underground: "We have automobiles that we have to look out for constantly, and [the trains] don’t stop quite as easily as an automobile, especially this time of year -- the leaves fall and they make the rails somewhat slippery," said Lione. "People with cell phones is another thing. ... They’ll walk in front of a 90-foot-long Green Line train, without even looking at it."

A train passes through the Kenmore Station, as Lione waits for the station inspector to release his train.

Lione drives his train underground. He typically works a 9-hour shift, with about an hour-long break. "We have about 10 - 15 minutes in between trips, so you can get off the train, use the bathroom, stretch your legs, things like that -- as long as everything is running the way it’s supposed to be," said Lione. "There are times when something happens, you get back late, and you have to go right back out again."

Lione's train pulls into Copley Station.

Lione is reflected in one of the train's mirrors. It is his last shift, before his days off. "When I first started working here, I was pretty young. It was just before my 21st birthday. And when you first start working, the choices are slim, because you have no seniority," said Lione. "Now, I choose to take Sunday and Monday off. ... If I want to take my son to the aquarium or the Children’s Museum, it’s a lot nicer to do on a Monday than to do on a Saturday or Sunday when it’s extremely crowded."

Passengers board Lione's train through the front door. "Sometimes people also like to take out their bad day on the first person they see, and that’s typically me," Lione laughed. "I’ve had [someone] throw coffee at me, a few years ago, when we first started our policy of only using the front door ... It’s not my fault that the train is running 10 minutes late, but I’m the person that hears about it."

Lione's train pulls into the Packard's Corner Station.

Lione waits for a car to cross the train tracks.