The continuing adventures of Joe Myers: Chicagoland’s transit system offers a route to discovery for a young man with autism

Joe Myers has an appreciation for the Chicago region’s transit system that’s way deeper than that of your average daily commuter. The personal sense of meaning Joe derives from riding the rails and bus lines every day with his bicycle in tow lies somewhere between obsession and full-blown love affair. The 24-year-old, who lives in Evanston with his mother, Kate Zrenner Myers, doesn’t let his diagnosis of autism put a damper on his thirst for adventure or his knack for turning complete strangers into dear lifelong friends.

I visited Joe and Kate at their home over Labor Day weekend, when they were kind enough to sit for an interview for Streetsblog Chicago. Joe was already a big fan of the website, and said he particularly enjoyed my last article, on the ADA-compliant renovation of the Green Line’s Austin Station.

Joe has a cartographic mind, brimming with maps and timetables and the minutiae of the comings and goings on every block of terrain served by the CTA. “When we meet somebody new while getting a haircut or at a grocery store, if they ask Joe, ‘Where do you live?’ he will start telling them the best way to get home,” Kate observed.

Evanston’s borders have long since been unable to restrain Joe’s wanderlust. He spends hours mapping out solo excursions to distant suburban destinations – hot dog stands, parks, old-timey ice cream parlors – riding Pace buses to new locales nearly every day of the week.

“I think the bus drivers in this town – they’re like the people that would deliver the mail in an old-fashioned office,” Kate explained. “The first person you see in the morning, they can make or break Joe’s day. Joe gets on the bus earlier in the day. He leaves there at six or seven in the morning. Some bus drivers are friendly and dear, or they’re pistols. You know, ‘Get on here, stop talking.’ But Joe’s gotten on buses with neighbors that are dodgy, and the bus driver’s like, ‘You better sit behind me.'”

In the course of his crisscrossing, Chicagoland-wide jaunts, Joe also takes great pleasure in seeing new faces, and more often than not, makes fast friends with people on the train and bus systems. “Joe ran into a security guard again yesterday,” Kate recalled.

“Mike was in the Jackson Red Line Station,” Joe added.

“He helped Joe when he got in a scuffle on the train around the Fourth of July,” Kate added. “He was one of the K-9 officers that helped Joe.”

Since Joe is unable to drive a car, live without assistance, or work a traditional job, some people wonder about the wisdom of his pastime of venturing out to parts unknown, unsupervised. “So many families like ours would be like, ‘How can you go so far? Like so many things can go wrong,'” Kate said. “But so many things go wrong… and his world’s bigger.”

“That’s your philosophy of why you let him venture out so much?” I asked. “Because other people might not.”

“Yeah, other people do not,” she said. “The kindest thing you can do for a friend, or a spouse, or someone you love, is to make the world bigger.”

But it definitely hasn’t all been a beautiful day in the neighborhood for Joe. One time, he rode the Red Line’s 69th Street station with his bike. “69th was a scary day,” Joe recalled. He was photographing the people and the architecture of the platform when he was approached by a group of young men angered at being made the subjects of his camera lens. One thing led to another, and the men took Joe’s phone and bike, deleted the video, and then began to leave with his belongings.

Joe spoke to them for the first time then, telling them, in an anguished voice, “You’re taking my memories.” The men halted, suddenly grasping Joe’s disability from his diction. Then they turned around and handed his phone and bike back to him. They apologized for upsetting him, and warned him of the potential dangers of taking unwanted photos of strangers. Then they asked where he was headed next, and when the train arrived, they rode with him to his stop to ensure he got there safely.

This story exemplifies the good will Joe often experiences on public transportation. Even when there isn’t a storybook ending, there are still lessons to be learned, and experiences to be filed away for future reference.

Another time, Joe was taking the South Shore Line to a destination in Indiana. He put his feet up on the opposite seat, not realizing that was breach of train etiquette, next to a tired and irate lady commuting home from work. She harshly admonished him to put his feet down. When he tried to explain he didn’t understand because he has autism, the haggard rider exclaimed, “I don’t give a —- what you have – move your feet!”

Kate argued that was an example of Joe being treated like an equal despite his disability. “I think when Joe’s traveling, everything is equal. He’s met some stinkers, but he’s met some wonderful helpers along the way.”

Sometimes Joe wants to go where everybody knows his name, places like Frannie’s Beef in Schiller Park, where he’s been a regular since 2021. Kate remembers visiting there with him for the first time: “So Joe talked about Frannie’s for like a year, and then it was Christmas break, and I was like, ‘Oh, let’s go together,'” she said. “Because I wanted to see what went on at Frannie’s, and it was like Joe walking into Cheers. You know, it’s like a counter place with probably five or six tables.”

Here’s how the exchange that followed went.

Kate Zrenner Myers: What is the owner’s name?

Joe Myers: Vince

KZM: Does he have another Vince that works there?

JM: Yeah

KZM: What’s his name?

JM: Little Vince.

KZM: And we when we walked in, Joe was so warmly greeted by everyone. And Joe’s been going there all these years, and every time he goes there… Joe calls me a lot, and inevitably I’ll hear people say, “Hey, we missed you! Bring your bike in!”

J. Niimi: So when you see the two Vinces, you say hi to them?

JM: Yes.

JN: What do you say? “Hi, Little Vince” and “Hi, Big Vince”?

JM: Yes.

KZM: Which one has the wife?

JM: Big Vince.

JN: What do you order there? What’s your favorite dish?

JM: Burger, fries, and an Icee.

JN: Can’t go wrong with that.

Joe’s ultimate wish is to volunteer as a transit advocate for people with disabilities. Given his love of public transportation and people, it seems likely that dream will come true.

Follow Joe Myers on Instagram at joemyers_i290.

If you appreciate Streetsblog Chicago’s livable streets reporting and advocacy, please consider making a tax-deductible donation to support our work. Thank you!