The Cost of Unused Promises: Rome's $1.5 Million Bus Bill

Imagine this: a city, a vision for improved public service, and a hefty sum of federal dollars meant to make it all happen. Now, imagine that service running for less than a year, only to be suspended, leaving behind a $1.5 million bill. That, in essence, is the perplexing situation facing Rome, Georgia, right now.

It’s a tab, mind you, that originates from federal CARES Act funding – money designed to help communities navigate the choppy waters of the pandemic. Back in the summer of 2021, with genuinely good intentions, the City of Rome partnered with Rome City Schools to launch a dedicated school bus service. Rome Transit was tasked with operating it, and for a brief, eleven-month stint, twenty shiny new buses, purchased with those federal funds, ferried students across town. A noble effort, you could say.

But, and here’s the rub, even the best-laid plans can hit unforeseen snags. By June 2022, the wheels on the bus, quite literally, stopped turning. Why? A classic one-two punch of challenges: a critical shortage of drivers, a problem echoing across countless industries, and, perhaps more tellingly, ridership numbers that just weren't quite cutting it. It's tough, you know, when a vital service struggles to find its consistent footing.

Now, fast forward to today. The buses, largely unused, sit. But the Federal Transit Administration (FTA), the generous federal benefactor, hasn't forgotten about their investment. No, sir. They want their $1.5 million back – the full federal share of what those vehicles initially cost. And that, friends, puts Rome in a rather unenviable, indeed tricky, position.

City Manager Sammy Rich, a man no stranger to navigating complex fiscal waters, finds himself in a high-stakes negotiation. The city's proposal? Instead of simply writing a check for the full amount, they're hoping to repurpose these dormant vehicles. Picture them bolstering Rome’s general transit system, perhaps providing much-needed transport for the local senior center. It's a pragmatic approach, to be sure — a determined effort to make lemonade, as they say, from slightly-soured lemons.

The alternative? Sell the buses off and repay the government. Yet, even that path isn’t simple, involving a disposition fee, and the full federal portion would still be due. Mayor Craig McDaniel, surely feeling the weight of the decision, articulated the city's clear hope: to retain the buses and utilize them, transforming a costly pause into a practical gain for its citizens. Honestly, who wouldn't want to see those vehicles back on the road, serving the community, rather than sitting idle as a costly reminder of a plan gone awry?

In truth, this isn't just a story about buses or federal funds. It’s about the intricate realities of public service, the unforeseen challenges that arise, and the continuous effort to adapt and make the very best of situations that don’t always unfold according to the initial blueprint. Rome is certainly trying to find its way through this, hoping to turn a substantial setback into a meaningful forward step for the community.