Clemente's
Clemente's
Some day or other last week, I was on the #19 bus heading toward the Amtrak train station on our way out of Wilmington when I saw an interesting pair of signs. The first pointed to the train station ahead while the second indicated "bus station" to the left. (Bus station as in Greyhound, not DART)
I had totally forgotten that Wilmington had a bus station--or used to have a bus station. I don't know when I've ever seen a Greyhound bus tooling along the streets of Wilmington. Later, I asked Lorena if she knew anything. She was surprised as I was about the sign and theorized that charter buses might be using the station.
In the meantime, I had been reminiscing about buses in and around Wilmington in the days before DART. We did have a pre-DART public bus company though I don't remember the name. I'm convinced that it used to provide some Sunday service to and from downtown Wilmington because Market Street was lined and surrounded by all our larger stores before the days of shopping centers.
You could get off the bus or park the car near Market and do department store, "5 & 10 Cent" store or clothing boutique shopping. Without moving the car or getting back on the bus, you could also go to the post office, the library, eat at one of several restaurants, take in a film in one of several theatres, and stop for a snack to take home at a bakery. (Plus a bunch of other businesses I'm forgetting.)
While I don't remember details, I know that my grandmother caught a bus--either at Rodney Square or possibly at the bus station--which took her directly to Kennett Square in Pennsylvania, where one of her sisters and a brother-in-law lived. We also took the Shore Lines(?) bus to Ocean City, NJ, and that definitely left from the bus station. All I remember about it was that it seemed pretty disreputable compared to the train station only a few blocks away.
However, I titled this entry "Clemente's" for a reason. Back in the day, we had an enormous bus station just off of DuPont Highway. For non-Delawareans who have read my blog frequently in the past, think of DuPont Highway as the first major road from Wilmington going down through part of New Castle County. Then came Kirkwood Highway--blocks from where I live & where I catch the bus. Finally, interposing itself in a space often too narrow for it came I-95--the observation deck from which most people catch a glimpse of the state.
But back to the buses.
Clemente's had a sign that boasted how big it was. Unfortunately, I can't remember its claim any more and nothing I conjure up sounds appropriate. Clemente's claim about how huge it was and how many buses arrived and departed every day was well-earned. You entered a building separated from the highway by a pretty formidable parking lot for those days. Inside the building were the usual ticket windows, benches and places where you could by "stuff".
Behind that was the 24 hour cafeteria with a staff ready to serve any traveller whatever meal they were expecting from whatever time period they were arriving. They were very kind to make the offer & many hungry people took them up on it. They were even good cooks. I think they were a little confused though about the offer of breakfast at dinner time--no one arriving had just stepped off an international flight.
Finally past the cafeteria were the doors leading to the bus stations. I use the plural for a reason. Once upon a time, we had Greyhound, Trailways and a number of other interstate bus coach companies serving the area. Someone--the CEOs of the companies, the bus drivers, maybe the people running Clemente's--someone was concerned about mixing one company's buses with another's. (It makes more sense with planes.)
You would walk outside--schlepping your suitcase or walking along next to a baggage handler--and then stop and consider what herringbone you were supposed to be in. Anyone who has ridden interstate buses will known what I'm talking about. A cement spine rather like a median strip runs down the length of the bus parking slots. Each bus pulls into its slot on one side of the cement spine or the other. Greyhound had their herringbone, Trailways theirs, the Shore Lines theirs and so on.
After that, all you had to do was match up the numbers peeking down from the pavilion ceiling lighting with the number on your bus ticket, and hope that another bus hadn't pulled into the wrong slot. It happened. The other driver wouldn't let you on his bus of course but then you were back to square one trying to figure out where your driver had chosen to park when he was deposed. I vividly remember last minute racing up and down the herringbones. Never missed a bus though. ;-)
Largest bus station on the East Coast?
Impossible. New York City would have that title.
Largest bus station in the Mid-Atlantic?
Oh, give me a break! It sounded so much more impressive!
If anyone knows, please comment. Thanks!
SherryT
Some day or other last week, I was on the #19 bus heading toward the Amtrak train station on our way out of Wilmington when I saw an interesting pair of signs. The first pointed to the train station ahead while the second indicated "bus station" to the left. (Bus station as in Greyhound, not DART)
I had totally forgotten that Wilmington had a bus station--or used to have a bus station. I don't know when I've ever seen a Greyhound bus tooling along the streets of Wilmington. Later, I asked Lorena if she knew anything. She was surprised as I was about the sign and theorized that charter buses might be using the station.
In the meantime, I had been reminiscing about buses in and around Wilmington in the days before DART. We did have a pre-DART public bus company though I don't remember the name. I'm convinced that it used to provide some Sunday service to and from downtown Wilmington because Market Street was lined and surrounded by all our larger stores before the days of shopping centers.
You could get off the bus or park the car near Market and do department store, "5 & 10 Cent" store or clothing boutique shopping. Without moving the car or getting back on the bus, you could also go to the post office, the library, eat at one of several restaurants, take in a film in one of several theatres, and stop for a snack to take home at a bakery. (Plus a bunch of other businesses I'm forgetting.)
While I don't remember details, I know that my grandmother caught a bus--either at Rodney Square or possibly at the bus station--which took her directly to Kennett Square in Pennsylvania, where one of her sisters and a brother-in-law lived. We also took the Shore Lines(?) bus to Ocean City, NJ, and that definitely left from the bus station. All I remember about it was that it seemed pretty disreputable compared to the train station only a few blocks away.
However, I titled this entry "Clemente's" for a reason. Back in the day, we had an enormous bus station just off of DuPont Highway. For non-Delawareans who have read my blog frequently in the past, think of DuPont Highway as the first major road from Wilmington going down through part of New Castle County. Then came Kirkwood Highway--blocks from where I live & where I catch the bus. Finally, interposing itself in a space often too narrow for it came I-95--the observation deck from which most people catch a glimpse of the state.
But back to the buses.
Clemente's had a sign that boasted how big it was. Unfortunately, I can't remember its claim any more and nothing I conjure up sounds appropriate. Clemente's claim about how huge it was and how many buses arrived and departed every day was well-earned. You entered a building separated from the highway by a pretty formidable parking lot for those days. Inside the building were the usual ticket windows, benches and places where you could by "stuff".
Behind that was the 24 hour cafeteria with a staff ready to serve any traveller whatever meal they were expecting from whatever time period they were arriving. They were very kind to make the offer & many hungry people took them up on it. They were even good cooks. I think they were a little confused though about the offer of breakfast at dinner time--no one arriving had just stepped off an international flight.
Finally past the cafeteria were the doors leading to the bus stations. I use the plural for a reason. Once upon a time, we had Greyhound, Trailways and a number of other interstate bus coach companies serving the area. Someone--the CEOs of the companies, the bus drivers, maybe the people running Clemente's--someone was concerned about mixing one company's buses with another's. (It makes more sense with planes.)
You would walk outside--schlepping your suitcase or walking along next to a baggage handler--and then stop and consider what herringbone you were supposed to be in. Anyone who has ridden interstate buses will known what I'm talking about. A cement spine rather like a median strip runs down the length of the bus parking slots. Each bus pulls into its slot on one side of the cement spine or the other. Greyhound had their herringbone, Trailways theirs, the Shore Lines theirs and so on.
After that, all you had to do was match up the numbers peeking down from the pavilion ceiling lighting with the number on your bus ticket, and hope that another bus hadn't pulled into the wrong slot. It happened. The other driver wouldn't let you on his bus of course but then you were back to square one trying to figure out where your driver had chosen to park when he was deposed. I vividly remember last minute racing up and down the herringbones. Never missed a bus though. ;-)
Largest bus station on the East Coast?
Impossible. New York City would have that title.
Largest bus station in the Mid-Atlantic?
Oh, give me a break! It sounded so much more impressive!
If anyone knows, please comment. Thanks!
SherryT