Canticles and Chronology: 8 November 1949 -- Walter A. O'Brien, Jr. Defeated in the Boston Mayoral Race

“M.T.A.” -- Kingston Trio
“The Ship That Never Returned” -- Bradley Kincaid

There is an old saying which, I think, must date to the age of Ancient Greece warning of those three inescapable yet incomprehensive realities of life: Death, taxes, and urban mass-transit. That is a paraphrase of course, but I think I captured the gist of it.

Today, let example just one of those brutal facets of human existence, urban mass-transit. I speak specifically of the Metropolitan Transit Authority or M.T.A, the prior incarnation of the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority. To call the M.T.A. fare schedule insanely confusing is to understate the chaos that was its normal pretense of routine. About the time this song was written in the 1940s, a commuter’s guide to the M.T.A. byzantine fare and transfer structure consumed nine pages, making it a threat to riders and trees alike. To further perplex M.T.A. users after a fare increase on branch lines, the city choose not to modify turnstiles to reflect the new pricing. Rather, the additional nickel would be collected at the destination.

The people of Boston needed a champion to protect against such deprivations. Walter A. O'Brien, Jr. thought himself that champion.

O’Brien stood for election in Boston’s 1949 mayoral race as the Progressive candidate. However, being a man with many ideas, but slight funds, he needed a method to campaign against his better moneyed opponents. Having far more audacity than political acumen, O’Brien found one. He commissioned local talent to compose seven politically themed songs, each devoted to a single plank of his platform. O’Brien then blasted the songs from a sound truck driven through various Boston neighborhoods. The results of this experiment in modern electioneering failed to realize O’Brien’s lofty ambitions. He came in fifth of five candidates with only 1.2% of the vote. In a further twist of the dagger, he was fined ten dollars for disturbing the peace with his truck-mounted speakers.

O’Brien would retire his dreams of political success eight years later and returned to his native Maine where he would live out his remaining years first as a librarian and then as manager of a bookstore.

Even so, we would commit gross error in thinking O’Brien quixotic campaign to lack lasting results. One of O’Brien’s seven campaign songs would long outlive his political career. Civil rights activist Jacqueline Steiner had joined with fellow folk music singer/songwriter Bess Lomax Hawes to compose a ditty promoting O’Brien's promise of reduced and more uniform M.T.A. fares. Set to the tune of “The Ship That Never Returned,” the very same melody borrowed by the lyricist of “The Wreck of the Old 97,” this charming song told the story of a hapless commuter, doomed by perplexing fare schedules and increases to perpetually travel Boston’s subways.

Jacqueline Steiner Tells of Charlie's Birth

As with most great folk songs, lyrics are malleable and vary from artist to artist, but one popular variation of Steiner and Hawes’ classic song follows:

Let me tell you the story

Of a man named Charlie

On a tragic and fateful day

He put ten cents in his pocket,

Kissed his wife and family

Went to ride on the MTA

Charlie handed in his dime

At the Kendall Square Station

And he changed for Jamaica Plain

When he got there the conductor told him,

"One more nickel."

Charlie could not get off that train.

Did he ever return,

No he never returned

And his fate is still unlearn'd

He may ride forever

'Neath the streets of Boston

He's the man who never returned.

Now all night long

Charlie rides through the tunnels

Saying, "What will become of me?

How can I afford to see

My sister in Chelsea

Or my cousin in Roxbury?"

Charlie's wife goes down

To the Scollay Square station

Every day at quarter past two

And through the open window

She hands Charlie a sandwich

As the train comes rumblin' through.

As his train rolled on

underneath Greater Boston

Charlie looked around and sighed:

"Well, I'm sore and disgusted

And I'm absolutely busted;

I guess this is my last long ride."

Now you citizens of Boston,

Don't you think it's a scandal

That the people have to pay and pay

Vote for Walter A. O'Brien

And fight the fare increase

Get poor Charlie off the MTA.

Or else he'll never return,

No he'll never return

And his fate will be unlearned

He may ride forever

'neath the streets of Boston

He's the man (Who's the man)

He's the man (Oh, the man)

He's the man who never returned.

In 1959, the Kingston Trio offered their own take on the song, turning from a classic into a legend. The lyrics were modified from the original for greater or lesser effect, and the lessons learned from prior recordings applied. Walter O’Brien had been unfairly slandered by Cold War anti-Communist paranoia, and previous versions of “M.T.A.” had been criticized for the use of the politically unpopular former-mayoral candidate. And so Walter O’Brien became George O’Brien, a subterfuge that almost certainly fooled no one.

These are the times that try men's souls. In the course of our nation's history, the people of Boston have rallied bravely whenever the rights of men have been threatened. Today, a new crisis has arisen. The Metropolitan Transit Authority, better known as the M. T. A., is attempting to levy a burdensome tax on the population in the form of a subway fare increase. Citizens, hear me out! This could happen to you!

Well, let me tell you of the story of a man named Charley on a tragic and fateful day.

He put ten cents in his pocket, kissed his wife and family, went to ride on the M. T. A.

Well, did he ever return? No, he never returned, and his fate is still unknown.

(What a pity!)