This cab carries and cares for veterans — and 2 funny dogs
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Afew years back, a coal-gas pipe broke free from its moorings and slammed Kevin Cotton in the forehead. Unconscious for a few minutes, he awakened to discover he couldn’t move. He was paralyzed.
Fortunately, medical scans revealed that his spinal cord was swollen, not broken, and feeling began returning to his arms and legs within hours.
His spinal cord contusion was similar to what happened to Steelers linebacker Ryan Shazier on Dec. 4, 2017, when he tackled a running back for the Cincinnati Bengals.
“I know exactly how he felt,” said Kevin, 53, of McKeesport.
Kevin underwent spinal surgery and remained hospitalized for 10 days, followed by nine months of physical rehabilitation, all while in neck and shoulder braces.
Today, he walks normally but must avoid hitting his head or wrenching his neck. Once dependent on a bicycle for transport, he can’t take that risk anymore. He can’t ride roller coasters or lift anything heavy. But he can push a wheelchair, and that’s key.
See, one thing hung in his mind: During recovery and rehab, he came to enjoy the taxi van rides in his wheelchair. No longer able to work on pipelines, Kevin opted to drive a VETaxi van.
It is something he enjoys doing, so much so that he pushes the limits to make his clients happy. All of which explains why his VETaxi features two copilots — a teacup Chihuahua named Cammie and a shaggy-dog Shih Tzu named Louie.
Cammie sports enormous candle flame ears that seem designed to catch more than just sound. Her look of perpetual stress and her angry soprano bark falsely suggest that she’s a threat.
“You make all that noise for nothing,” Kevin scolds her.
Louie clearly loves being loved, so long as you don’t give him too much eyeball. Happy-go-lucky Louie looks askance and shivers when you stare at him — especially when a scary cyclops (camera) hovers inches beyond his pug-nosed muzzle and keeps winking at him. Shaking as if the floor’s vibrating, Louie offers an occasional sidelong glance to see if the camera is gone yet.
Behind Kevin hangs a basket of candy. Everywhere around him are DVD players on which he plays rented videos. “The Intruder” was last week’s main feature.
“I saw that the Mister
Rogers movie was available, but I’m gonna wait until the price comes down,” he says.
That’s when it struck me. Kevin is a Mister Rogers. Won’t you be my passenger?
In addition to Kit Kats, his taxi offers a cell phone charger, a bottle of water in each cup holder and gentle ’70s hits floating from the radio. The blankets and seat covers are warm and welcoming. Everything is meticulously clean.
VETaxi is under contract with the Department of Veterans Affairs to transport veterans to and from medical facilities. Flyers he printed advertise that he transports anyone and everyone. He says he has been rated as the safest driver.
“I pay attention to the road, I pay attention to the client and I pay attention to my mirrors,” he says. “I have clients I take to church and they might be feeling down, so I play gospel music for them.”
Need something from the store? He’ll stop and get it for you, sometimes with his own money. He invites conversation and considers driving to be “therapeutic,” even in Pittsburgh with all the hills, ramps, twists, turns and bridges.
So, quite by serious accident, Kevin found his lot in life.
He loves his job. Can’t imagine doing anything else. He aims to please.
On Tuesday, he picked up Navy veteran Cuyler Mikell, 65, of Mt. Lebanon, who spotted the tempting basket of candy.
“I might just grab me a couple of Snickers on the way out the door,” he says.
That’s OK with Kevin. You don’t want cranky passengers. The key is comfort and pleasantry — conversation, human interaction and empathy.
Peeking around the front seat is Cammie, with her antennae to assure you’re still there. Louie will snuggle next to you, which helps his and the passenger’s stress levels.
“I keep my cab clean and meet supply and demand,” Kevin explains. “That’s how you make money these days.”
What this gentleman does as a cab driver, with his gentle words and Mister Rogers sensibilities, might make you misconstrue this as being his job. It’s more a mission, a love and a method of self-expression. Riding in Kevin’s cab is human therapy.
“It is always a pleasant ride,” says Patricia Stevens, a 40-year-old Munhall woman who is one of his regulars. “It’s nice that he can keep the passenger excited, not bored.”
Funny how a scary, serious episode of whole-body paralysis can make you numb long enough, until gradually, almost miraculously, you begin feeling things deeper in the heart.