CAT-ing Around: Veteran LV bus driver Norbert Scott reveals the pleasures of helping the CAT system purr

It all started, he claims, "by accident."

Not the ideal choice of words, and Norbert Scott knows it. "Accident" hasn't been a part of his vernacular for more than three decades, since Scott whimsically decided he wanted to drive a bus.

For a living. For a lifetime.

" 'By accident,' I don't mean actually by accident," he said, chuckling at the unintended double-entendre. "I just kind of fell into it."

That was in 1965, when Scott -- "Scotty" to his cohorts -- accompanied his cousin as he turned in an employment application for a job as a city bus driver in Milwaukee.

At the time, Scott's resume showed a post-high school career that had taken him through three years of service in the Army and another four years operating a forklift in a lawn mower manufacturing plant.

Scott was 25 then, seeking something new. He looked no further than the steering wheel of a cross-town bus.

"The one thing I always did was drive something," Scott said. "We both went in that day. My cousin didn't get the job, but I did."

Scott's interest was sparked by uncomplicated considerations. Steady employment, a chance to meet people, the opportunity to experience some variety -- it all served to motivate the upstart driver.

"I liked the idea of being out in the community, among people," Scott said. "It's a kind of recognized profession, a real service job. You're job is really to help people. That's what got me into it."

Now, 34 years and more than two million accident-free miles later, Scott remains perfectly content navigating route No. 216 in west Henderson four nights per week, 10 hours per shift.

"It's a really mellow route, a neighborhood route," Scott said just before climbing aboard a green-and-purple Citizens Area Transit bus for a recent night on the town. "It's a route you get when you have a lot of seniority."

Scott certainly has that. He has carried bus passengers in Las Vegas since moving out from the Midwest in 1972.

"I liked the weather, that was a big reason (for moving to Las Vegas)," he said. "You could make as much driving a bus here as in Milwaukee, but you saved a lot of money in state and property taxes. In those days, Las Vegas was a great town. It still is, but it's too big."

Scott first worked for now-defunct Las Vegas Transit, which folded after 44 years of local service in 1993, less than a year after CAT's start-up in November 1992.

Divorced for 20 years and soon to turn 59, Scott says he's been provided a rare glimpse into urban life during his nightly travels.

"I've met a lot of people, who take the bus to and from work every day, and I've gotten to know a lot of families," he said. "You even have people who are like the people who follow around athletes or rock 'n' roll stars."

Groupies?

"Exactly," Scott said. "Even bus drivers have those."

One such person is a woman named Cathy, a regular on Scott's route who seems to know every nuance of Scott's life -- from his family history to his collection of classic cars.

"I have a lot of photos of Scotty," Cathy said, pulling a tattered picture of Scott from her pocket. "I have a scrapbook of all of the drivers."

Such behavior is normal in Scott's universe.

"I've been doing this so long, I don't notice what's weird anymore," Scott said. "The weird is normal for me."

Which is why Scott struggles to recount anecdotes that are truly unusual.

"There was the time the woman went into labor on the bus," Scott said, smiling at the memory. "That was when I was with Las Vegas Transit, before we had radio communication, and I drove off the route right over to (University Medical Center).

"I didn't panic. I was very cool."

Also, in the days before passengers paid fare with coded cards, drivers were required to carry cash and make change. Scott was robbed a few times in the old days, once at gunpoint.

"A guy came onto the bus carrying a rifle, pointed at me and took all of my change," Scott said. "It was very fast. Pretty scary, too."

The thief made away with mere cab money -- $15.

"He didn't seem like a pro and I think it was a one-time thing," Scott said. "I think it was a young kid. But I haven't had too much trouble that way."

Scott is also oblivious to the noise, musty odors (no aroma therapy in evidence here) and sometimes rocky ride that are a byproduct of his regular work routine.

"It's easy, it's comfortable," Scott said. "I can come to work when I'm not feeling a hundred percent and still perform well. Physically, it's not like doing heavy labor. It's not stressful. It's just driving."

Scott is particularly proud of his safety record, among the most impressive on a force of nearly 800 drivers in the CAT system. Only five current CAT drivers have reached the two million mile mark.

"It takes between 12 and 13 years just to get to one million miles," said Scott, whose work jacket bears a commemorative one million mile patch (there are none for two million miles). "To drive that long with that kind of record is an accomplishment. But it's also your job to drive professionally."

Scott, who has driven routes throughout the valley for nearly three decades, says the most challenging areas are the Strip and Maryland Parkway.

"The Strip is tough because of the congestion, all of the pedestrians. I'm surprised there aren't more accidents there," Scott said. "You have a lot of foreign tourists, too, who don't speak the language well. And on Maryland Parkway, there's a different attitude."

How so?

"They're spoiled," Scott said. "The bus stops at every block, every 10 minutes , and they still complain if it's a minute late."

According to CAT policy, "late" is defined as 10 minutes behind schedule. Drivers report chronic route problems -- most often tardiness -- to supervisors, who often decide to shave a few minutes off the drivers' 10-minute-per-hour layover times to keep buses on time.

Fielding complaints and making such decisions is why Scott never seriously considered becoming a CAT supervisor.

"It's a lot of headaches," he said. "I've been asked to apply, but never did. It's a younger person's job, anyway."

So Scott is content. He has one vice -- his exotic automobiles. He possesses a varied collection, including a 1938 Nash, a 1940 Cadillac LaSalle, a 1952 Kaiser, a 1955 Hudson and 1957 Ford Ranchero.

Scott also owns a couple of Chevrolet Corvairs, one a convertible. Yes, Mr. Safety often zips around in cars consumer advocate Ralph Nader once deemed "unsafe at any speed."

Scott's favorite mode of transportation, however, is a 1996 Kawasaki Vulcan Classic, which looks a lot like a Harley-Davidson but with much lower insurance premiums.

"I don't drink, gamble or chase women," Scott said. "This is my one and only bad habit."

His first love, however, is his job. Scott said he has no plans to retire.

"I've never even thought about it," Scott said. "Retirement isn't in my vocabulary."

And that's no accident.

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