The Public Transit Genius Whose Story You’ll Never Forget
In today’s issue, you’ll learn…
🚇 Who is Darius McCollum?
♥️ Why you should care as an urbanist?
You may have lived in New York City and heard stories of Darius McCollum. Or maybe you’re an active participant in the r/trains thread on Reddit and have come across his name. You may have even seen the documentary Off the Rails, which chronicles his life. After learning about McCollum and his lifelong fascination with trains, I can’t stop thinking about what his story tells us about urban life, mental health, and our justice system.
A Fascination that Became a Lifelong Struggle
In 1980, at just 15 years old, Darius McCollum, a Black teen in New York City, was arrested for stepping into the driver’s cab of the E train and operating it for six stops—with passengers aboard. The remarkable part? McCollum flawlessly adhered to schedules, making proper stops and announcements along the way. According to the documentary, Off the Rails, his knowledge of the subway system wasn’t entirely self-taught. Workers reportedly handed him keys and trained him on how to operate subway trains so they could take breaks—a foreshadowing of the complex relationship he would have with the transit system.
For McCollum, the subway wasn’t just a mode of transportation; it was a sanctuary. It was where he felt safe, in control, and truly understood. Over the decades, however, his deep fascination turned into a compulsion. Since that first incident, McCollum has been arrested over 33 times for more than 100 transit-related offenses, including impersonating transit employees and commandeering public buses and trains. By his own account, he has gotten away with hundreds of similar episodes. Despite the arrests and public scrutiny, McCollum has never harmed anyone during these takeovers. His crimes are, without exception, centered on his love for public transit.
The Role of Asperger’s Syndrome
Darius McCollum’s compulsion has been attributed to Asperger’s Syndrome, a developmental disorder that falls under the autism spectrum. Individuals with Asperger’s often have intense, specialized interests—sometimes to the exclusion of other activities or social norms. McCollum’s fascination with transit is a textbook example.
Asperger’s Syndrome, first recognized as a diagnosis in the 1990s, is now considered part of Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). People with ASD often experience challenges with social interactions, communication, and repetitive behaviors. However, many also exhibit exceptional skills in specific areas, including memory and attention to detail, qualities that explain McCollum’s expertise in operating public transportation.
According to the CDC, autism spectrum disorders affect an estimated 1 in 36 children in the United States. While Asperger’s accounts for a subset of these diagnoses, the exact prevalence is not well-documented due to its integration into the broader autism spectrum. Importantly, not all individuals with Asperger’s share McCollum’s extreme experiences, but his story highlights the potential consequences of leaving such conditions unaddressed.
A System That Failed to Support
McCollum’s troubles are as much a reflection of systemic failure as they are a personal struggle. Diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome later in life, McCollum spent much of his youth and adulthood cycling in and out of correctional facilities without receiving psychological treatment. His pleas for help, both through his legal cases and in public statements, have gone largely unanswered. Instead, he has been labeled a repeat offender, with the legal system focusing on punishment rather than support.
Passengers who interacted with McCollum during his escapades often described him as friendly, professional, and passionate about transit. What if this passion had been nurtured differently? What if McCollum had been given opportunities to channel his love for public transportation into a legitimate career rather than facing arrest after arrest? His story is a stark reminder of how our systems often criminalize behaviors that stem from mental health conditions rather than addressing the root causes.
So where is Darius now? On October 5th, 2018, a ruling deemed McCollum dangerously mentally ill, sentencing him to life at Rochester Forensic Psychiatric Hospital.
McCollum had applied several times to be a worker at MTA being rejected each time. He just wanted to drive trains and buses. Passion comes in many forms, and in a society where it’s becoming harder to find for the right reasons, my heart is heavy. Some people clock in every day with millions of lives in their hands who won’t have an inkling of the passion that McCollum has. You hear so much of the driver shortage taking our country by storm and this exodus of older drivers retiring. Yet, here we are with nowhere for McCollum to go but a facility where he will be alongside those who committed violent murders.
As an urbanist, McCollum’s story highlights the profound intersection of transit, mental health, and systemic failures in our cities. It underscores the importance of designing urban environments and policies that not only prioritize accessibility and safety but also consider the diverse needs of individuals who interact with these systems in unique ways. His life illustrates how a passion for transit if nurtured and supported, could have contributed positively to the system rather than being criminalized. It’s a reminder that our cities thrive when they recognize and embrace human complexity, creating pathways for inclusion and understanding rather than exclusion and punishment.
We haven’t gotten much of an update despite it being stated that with proper treatment and check-ins, McCollum could be released.
How did we get here?
Til, next time cut loose.
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