‘Life Is Possible’

Every day, the bus operators in Lincoln, Nebraska, collectively transport thousands of residents. Between 2021-2022, more than 2.25 million passenger trips were taken, with over 1.5 million miles driven by the operators, according to Lincoln Transportation & Utilities. 

However, there are untold stories of how much more bus operators do for their passengers besides transporting them on their regular routes. Some have become close with the passengers they have been transporting for a long time and help them with everyday living. One operator regularly grocery shops with a blind passenger to help him gather food, while a few others have even become the powers of attorney for passengers who do not have anyone to help legally care for them.  

Chanda Gerdes greets her passengers with a smile as they enter her bus daily, many of whom are regulars she has known for a while. She always keeps fruit bars and chocolate chip granola bars stocked to pass out to kids when they get on the bus with their parents. “Hey, how are you doing?” Gerdes asks each passenger cheerily as they enter, swipe their bus passes and take their seats before she pulls off and heads to the next stop. 

Gerdes grew up in the Belmont neighborhood in Lincoln and graduated from Northeast High School. The mother of two reflected on her life journey and the road to overcoming the adversities of homelessness, addiction and supporting those she encounters on the road to overcoming their hardships. 

Driving a city bus was an easy transition because she had been a truck driver for four years. A job she said she loved but decided to leave to be closer to her children here in Lincoln. She said being an over-the-road truck driver came with fun perks.

“It’s like, you get to work inside, but yet you’re outside,” Gerdes chuckled. “You get to wear your pajamas all day long, get paid to live in an efficiency apartment and see the country.” 

Unfortunately, around this time, Gerdes became involved with drugs and received two possession charges. As a result, she lost everything, became homeless, without a vehicle, and sought shelter at the People’s City Mission. She said receiving possession charges frightened her and, as a result, motivated her to get clean. 

Gerdes got a job at Burger King, where she began with only 12 hours a week. Determined to better herself, she worked her way up, becoming an assistant manager after a year and a half and, later on, the store’s general manager. She ultimately worked at the restaurant for six years. 

“I just worked my butt off,” Gerdes said. 

While working for Burger King, Gerdes drove her church bus for a few years. Every Sunday, she would volunteer to bring inmates to and from service as part of the reintegration program at the Northern Lighthouse Church. 

In 2011 Gerdes’ brother began working as a city bus operator, motivating her to apply for the role in 2012. After completing all the onboarding steps, she had to drive various random routes for a while, as all new hires do.

“Basically, you just cover shifts that need to be covered that day, vacation weeks, or whatever needs to be covered,” Gerdes said. “So you don’t do the same thing every day, and you never know what route you’re going to be doing. So you’ve got to know them all.”

Even with a prior record, her new employer gave her a chance at the job because she proved her work ethic during her time at Burger King, Gerdes said. 

Being back on the road and interacting with diverse groups of people brought her joy, and the gray interior walls, blue seats and bright yellow handrails became her happy place. 

However, there were also some scary times on the road. Other drivers have collided with Gerdes a few times, but the worst accident happened in 2014, a year and a half into her role as a bus operator. 

Gerdes sat at a stoplight on 56th and Pioneers, waiting for the arrow to turn green. As soon as it did, she began making her turn. 

“Watch out,” a passenger yelled. 

Gerdes turned her head just in time to see a car flying over a hill, running the stoplight, and crashing into the bus. She lost all control and collided with the median before hitting an SUV and smashing to a halt in the side of a brick building. 

First responders had to cut her out of the bus.

“Hold it,” Gerdes said. “Something’s rubbing my leg.” 

“No,” a fireman cooly replied to keep her calm. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Gerdes later discovered that the rubbing sensation was a sharp broken piece of the bus that pierced her left leg around her ankle, coming out as they removed her from the bus. As a result, she lost all feeling in her leg and cracked a bone right below her knee.

One passenger standing when the accident happened had to get ten stitches on his head, but the others walked away with bruises. Gerdes, however, spent two months in a wheelchair and six weeks in rehab. She was on medical leave for five months before returning to work but still suffers from neuropathy.  

“It was a 28-year-old girl driving and her 21-year-old sister was in the car with her,” Gerdes said. “They said they came over the hill and saw a green light. What she actually saw was the green arrow, but their light was red.”

In the state of Nebraska, the law prohibits felons from possessing firearms. Gerdes did not have one, but in 2018 she was dating a man named Terry, who had family members in law enforcement who had them in their homes. She wanted to be a part of the family and be able to come to their homes for get-togethers and events, so she decided to apply for a pardon but didn’t think of it prior. 

“I honestly never thought about it because, personally, my felonies had never affected me,” Gerdes expressed on getting a job at Burger King and as a bus operator for the city. “I didn’t let them affect me. I went out, straightened myself out, and did what I needed to do. I just showed them all that I was worth taking that chance on.”

After applying, it took two years for the Nebraska Board of Pardons to hear Gerdes’ case. 

It was 10 a.m. on a sunny August day in 2020. Gerdes arrived at her attorney’s office, and they walked over to the Nebraska Capitol Building. She was nervous, but he helped keep her calm. 

“Stay calm and just be honest,” he told her.

Gerdes remembers sitting in the hearing room, listening to the cases before her, with the board denying a handful. Gosh, I hope I did enough, she thought. 

When it was her turn, Gerdes explained to the board everything she had done over the years since being convicted. She talked about getting sober, working at Burger King, busing inmates to Sunday service as part of her church’s reintegration program and being a city bus operator for nearly a decade.

“You’re the kind of story that we like to hear about,” former Gov. Pete Ricketts said to Gerdes before the board unanimously voted to grant her a full pardon.

“I was so excited,” Gerdes said. “I wanted to just explode.” 

Gerdes and Terry were no longer linked romantically by the time she got her pardon. Still, they remained close friends, and she could attend get-togethers, special occasions and whatever else was taking place at his family members’ homes. She could finally go on a cruise for the first time, and she did last year with 20 other transit operators she became friends with from an online Facebook group. They visited Jamaica, Grand Cayman and Cozumel, Mexico. 

“I would love to go to the Australian Zoo,” Gerdes “That’s one thing I really want to do or go on an African Safari.”

Terry was battling cancer throughout this journey and did not tell Gerdes until he beat the illness in 2021. Unfortunately, the illness returned the following year, and he passed away in September 2022. Gerdes credits him for helping and encouraging her to take another step toward bettering herself. 

“He was a part of my life for a reason, and it was because of him that I decided to go through that process,” Gerdes said. “I have no limitations. I got my life back to normal.” 

One day in early June of 2022, Gerdes was driving the 46, a route from the Gold’s Building in downtown Lincoln to the Arnold Heights neighborhood via West “O” Street and back. The bus route is relatively quiet compared to some bustling ones, like the North 27th Street or the South 13th Street. 

Most passengers exit the bus a few minutes into the drive near the People’s City Mission, a shelter for people experiencing homelessness, Gerdes said. However, one passenger remained on the bus with a suitcase. 

“Where you headed?” Gerdes asked the young woman, who she could have guessed was around 16. 

“I need to get to Matt Talbot,” the lady replied—a soup kitchen located in North Lincoln. 

Gerdes explained to the lady, who introduced herself as a 32-year-old woman named Sharice, that she was on the wrong route and would have to catch the North 27th bus to reach her destination. Gerdes asked her if she wanted to get off and wait for the right bus to come by. “Can I just ride with you?” Sharice asked in reply. “I really have nowhere to go.” 

Sharice rode with Gerdes for the remainder of the route and got out at Casey’s convenience store in the Air Park neighborhood to use the restroom. “Do you know anywhere that would help somebody that’s homeless that doesn’t live here?” Sharice asked. 

“Well the City Mission,” Gerdes suggested.

“No, they wont take me because I’m not a Lincoln resident.” 

She stood there looking at Sharice, who appeared sad and had a broken look on her face. Take her home, take her home, take her home, a voice in Gerdes’ head that she failed to silence kept repeating. “If you need a place to stay, I have a couch that you can sleep on for a couple of days,” Gerdes said, giving in to her consciousness.  

Sharice said she spent all her money to rent a room for the night after being turned away from the homeless shelter, but Gerdes gave her number and told her to call her if she needed a place to stay the next night. 

The following day, Gerdes picked Sharice up after getting a call from her and learned that she had initially moved to Lincoln for a relationship that didn’t work out. 

Within a week, she got a job and ended up living with Gerdes for four months before moving back to Connecticut in October, where her family resides. However, the two became very close and remain in close contact today. 

“I just love her,” Gerdes said. “She ended up becoming like my adopted daughter.” 

Sharice completed her degree in medical assisting shortly after moving back to Connecticut and accepted a job in Boston, Massachusetts. Gerdes said she’s still trying to convince her to move back. 

Sharice completed her degree in medical assisting shortly after moving back to Connecticut and accepted a job in Boston, Massachusetts. Gerdes said she’s still trying to convince her to move back. 

“There’s plenty of hospitals here in Lincoln,” Gerdes chuckled. 

As a bus operator, Gerdes has encountered many people who face various life challenges, some similar to hers. Whether it be escaping violent situations, homelessness, or being clean for a month or longer, she tries to inspire and encourage them by sharing her journey.

“I tell them my story and where I was so many years ago,” Gerdes said. “Life is possible.”