TriMet bus driver Matthew Higgins may have saved a young rider's life with a few quick horn honks last week.

On Tuesday morning, Higgins stopped the No. 70 bus on Northeast 33rd Avenue across from Grant High School to let a student off.

As the girl started to cross the busy two-lane street in front of the bus, Higgins glanced at his side mirror and noticed that the impatient driver of a silver car behind him was zipping around the bus.

He hit the bus' horn three times to get the girl's attention -- too bad you can't hear in the video above -- and motioned for her to stay put.

She stopped.

A couple heartbeats later, the silver car sped through the marked crosswalk where she would have likely been stepping out from the heavy-metal protection of the bus.

Realizing what had just happened, the student lifted her hand to thank the driver as she crossed the street.

How do I know so much about the incident? I was on the bus. I saw it happen.

Cheers to #TriMet operator 7010 for saving Grant HS student from getting hit by impatient driver zipping around bus pic.twitter.com/MmHb6W7pYl — Joseph Rose (@josephjrose) February 24, 2015

Like many busy streets along TriMet bus routes, Northeast 33rd Avenue's two lanes - one north and one south - are separated by solid double-yellow lines.

No matter how late you're running for work, zipping around a stopped TriMet bus is illegal.

Still, people do it all the time.

I despise the zip around.

In fact, this wasn't the first time that an alert bus driver likely saved someone's life in this way. Back in 2010, I wrote a column, thanking a TriMet driver for looking out for my wife and daughter.

On a wet morning last week, my wife walked through the front door, looking as if she had just seen God.

She was shaking. The story she told prompted me to post an open letter to a TriMet bus driver on my commuting blog.

To the driver of the 24-Fremont who stopped at 32th Avenue at 7:20 a.m.: Thank you for looking out for my family.

Heidi, my 10-year-old daughter and our niece were on foot this morning, off to school.

You were willing to let them cross Fremont before continuing on your route. My wife figured your big westbound TriMet bus would keep the traffic in your rearview mirror at bay. But before she and the kids cleared the front, you started honking, warning them to stop.

A heartbeat later, a westbound vehicle zoomed past. With the eastbound lane clear, the driver probably thought it was OK to zip around the bus.

As my wife started guiding the girls across Fremont again, you hit the horn one more time. Two more westbound cars sped past the No. 24.

Frustrated that no one behind you seemed willing to wait, you steered hard to the left so that your bus was at a diagonal, telling the motorists behind you to stay put. You waved my wife across.

"It was a blind spot," Heidi said. "The bus driver probably saved our lives."

Yes, they call it rush hour for a reason. But, my fellow motorists, please be patient behind those TriMet buses.

A few seconds added to your commute or years of grief and guilt for you and others? To me, the choice is obvious.

I'm not being dramatic, just appreciative. Thanks, Madam Bus Driver.

A couple of hours later, TriMet spokeswoman Bekki Witt called.

She identified the driver as Bernadine Raiford. "Today is her last day," Witt said. "She's retiring after 29 years as a TriMet driver."

I got Raiford's cell number and left a message of gratitude. On the last break of her career, she called back.

"That was a very nice way to say goodbye," I told her.

Raiford's voice was as sweet as sugar water: "It was nothing. Nowadays, everyone's in such a rush. Drivers don't have the mercy that they used to have."

Mercy. Good word.

Honestly, when crossing a busy road, even if a 16-ton bus has your back, we're often at the mercy of someone else's restlessness and foolishness. Thankfully, sometimes, grace knows how to lay on the horn.

Raiford said the big red "yield" flashers on the back of the bus were on, making it illegal for the motorists stacking up behind her to pass.

Then again, the "zip around" has become a daily staple in our commuting culture. And too many drivers, she said, seem to think those flashers are only there to keep the bus from getting dented up.

Those buses can take a hit, Raiford said.

I don't want to think about whether my little girl could.

Maybe drivers should treat stopped TriMet buses with the same caution as school buses, even when the flashers are dark.

My wife was crossing legally. Raiford, 62, who was a single mom of three when she went to work for TriMet in 1981, was being courteous. But after a million miles on Portland's streets, where she has seen too many mothers, brothers and daughters hit by drivers in a hurry, "I've learned to keep my eyes on the mirrors and my hand on the horn."

All I can say is, once again, thanks. And let's all show a little mercy behind the wheel.

I'll say it again: Please, don't do the zip around.

-- Joseph Rose

503-221-8029

jrose@oregonian.com

@pdxcommute