A call for compassion at the ferry terminal


||| FROM ELISABETH BRITT, FIRE COMMISSIONER & ORCAS FERRY LANDING TERMINAL STAFF |||


On the morning of July 14th, I was assigned to manage vehicle boarding at our local ferry terminal—a task I had never performed before, and for which I received little formal training. By 8:50 AM, I found myself in the center of a volatile scene involving about twenty certified medical priority passengers, a crowd of frustrated reservation holders, and one woman who had been yelling at me continuously before using her vehicle to physically push me down the boat loading ramp.

Her claim? That she had a doctor’s appointment. But she was not a verified medical priority passenger. Her actions were not just aggressive, they were dangerous. I live with severe osteoporosis, a condition that makes any physical trauma potentially life-altering. A single fracture could cripple me for life. She only cared about herself. 
After she drove her car into me, I stood on that ramp—shaken, humiliated, and crying. Not because I am fragile. But because I had just been endangered by the very community I serve.
That day was not a fluke. It was the product of policy strain, public impatience, and a lack of frontline protections. Washington State Ferries has reduced standby traffic to just 10%, leaving little margin to accommodate medical surges. Some days, we have 0% standby. Reservation holders denied access respond with verbal abuse, refusal to move their vehicles, and hostile behavior toward staff.
Let me be clear: we are not the enemy. We are your neighbors, your first responders, your public servants. We are the ones who—just one day earlier, on July 13th—helped a father whose five-year-old son was unresponsive in the back seat. I staged the vehicle in our emergency turnaround zone and called paramedics. Six emergency vehicles responded, and the child was airlifted to Seattle Children’s Hospital. That is what this job is about.
The woman who assaulted me claimed to be disabled. I do not question her needs—but I, too, live with a disability. And while she weaponized her frustration, I was quietly standing at the landing, serving Orcas Island.
Around 2:00 PM that same day, I loaded Governor Bob Ferguson, Transportation Secretary Julie Meredith, Assistant Secretary for Washington State Ferries Steve Nevey, and his Deputy John Vezina on the 2:20 PM ferry. After everything I experienced that morning—verbal abuse, physical assault, and emotional exhaustion—I was still there. Still serving. Still standing. That is what public service looks like.
But we cannot do it alone. We need training, support, and respect. We need policies that protect both passengers and staff. And most of all, we need our community to understand that anger is not a solution. Turning on the very people trying to help only deepens the crisis. WSF creates the rules and policy. We are expected to enforce them.

This is a call to action—not just for agencies, but for all of us. Let us rebuild trust. Let us prioritize safety. Let us be better than the chaos.



**If you are reading theOrcasonian for free, thank your fellow islanders. If you would like to support theOrcasonian CLICK HERE to set your modestly-priced, voluntary subscription. Otherwise, no worries; we’re happy to share with you.**