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On Tuesday, “Going Public” columnist Kyra Kyles wrote about what to do in case of an emergency on the CTA (“Worst-case CTA scenarios”) and asked readers to submit harrowing tales of CTA survival. Well, you came through. Some of these stories are funny, some are scary, and all are a great reminder to be alert while riding trains and buses.

Be sure to check in Tuesday for more on the CTA, and keep sending your public transit opinions to kkyles@tribune.com. We’ll consider them for publication on Wednesdays.

Always be prepared

About a year or so ago, I was riding home on the Brown Line train. A co-worker of mine, who was accompanying me to Belmont where she’d transfer over to the Purple line, and I were in the lead car. We were stopping between two stations just south of the Chicago stop when there was a sudden jarring motion. A Purple Line train had crashed into the train we were in.

As we were in the car farthest from the impact, everyone in our car was mostly just tossed about in his or her seat. Luckily, no one was hurt.

Then began the wait. We were stuck in that train for over two-and-a-half hours. No AC, no bathrooms and no source of entertainment.

This incident led me to always have two things on hand when I travel the CTA: an iPod and a camera. There were a lot of very cute firemen that came to our rescue.

Rose Huber, 32, Hollywood Park

Stand back

Sometime around 2000 I was taking the Blue Line from Clark/Lake to Polk. I was standing near the door (on this particular car it was the kind that slides open, not the accordion one) while the train was traveling underground.

All of a sudden, while we were at full speed, the doors just flew completely open! Both I and another rider jumped away from the doors, and someone else hit the emergency brake.

The train stopped, we reported it to the conductor over the intercom and went back on our way. To this day, I take the posted warnings not to lean on the doors much more seriously.

Laura Walker, 29, Wicker Park

Wait of the world

Both of these happened on the Brown Line (northbound at the time).

Story 1: One set of doors did not close on the “L” car I was in, and the train left the station and was moving at regular speed. I think someone finally pulled the emergency red ball thing, and the operator came back to our car (and yelled at us for not notifying him/her sooner). We were all stunned that it was happening, and were pretty far back from the doors. It wasn’t a crowded train, fortunately.

Story 2: On a hot summer day, on the way home during rush hour, our train stopped over the Chicago River for a long time (30 minutes or more). I don’t remember the reason for the stop. I was standing. The power went out, and the air conditioning went off. It was very hot and stuffy, and the sun was beating down.

A passenger opened the back door (we were in the last car) for ventilation. The operator finally came to our car and yelled at the person who had opened the door, saying sarcastically, “Thank this guy for delaying us further by opening this door.” They got into a nasty argument about it.

I think the CTA was to blame for the initial delay, and maybe the open door set off a sensor or something, which added to the problem. But what were we supposed to do, boil and faint in there?

Lynn Chindlund, Ravenswood

Inspirational story

Although I no longer live in Chicago, my story has to do with when I lived in Bridgeport from 1996-1999.

Occasionally I would have to work at midnight on Saturdays, so I would take the No. 62 Archer bus downtown. One particularly cold winter night, the bus stopped near Archer and State to pick up a passenger. I heard the bus driver say, “Sorry, man, it’s stuck.”

Then another passenger went down the stairs at the front and came back with a folded-up wheelchair. Next, the sound of someone crawling up the stairs. The fellow from the wheelchair, who could not use his legs, had managed to get himself into the bus and into a seat.

The bus’ device for accommodating wheelchairs wasn’t working, perhaps on account of the cold. It was probably one of the greatest acts of determination I’d ever seen.

Tom Vess, 45

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kkyles@tribune.com.