Riding the NYC Metro subway system every weekday for three hours a day to and from college was tiring. It’s especially exhausting on that last leg home on the “D” train at night.
It was not uncommon for me to fall asleep in the subway as it jostled down the rails. The NYC Metro trains are not quiet like the Paris subway; they rattle and jar, jerk and screech. When the subway car was full, I would be standing near the doors. Nevertheless, on more than one occasion, I fell asleep standing up. Yup! I dropped my books and briefcase. A quick recovery couldn’t save the embarrassment.
Okay, so I tried to be clever and leaned against the doors one time so I wouldn’t get woken up. The doors usually opened on the other side since it was an express train. My plan usually worked, but not this time. The train pulled into a station and, BAM! The doors on my side opened. I was SO shocked! I ended up stumbling out of the train backwards onto the platform. Ugh, no luck.
Sometimes I would return home very late after drill practice and drinking games. The train would be empty, and I’d stretch out, super comfy. Too comfy, actually, because I’d miss my stop at Kingsbridge Road. I’d end up going a couple of stops further north to the end of the line at 205th Street. I’d wake up, stumble across the platform for the next train going south. Only two stops left, and guess what? I’d fall asleep again and miss my stop. Then I’d get off, cross the platform, and head north again. I totally lost count of how many times I missed Kingsbridge Road.
I should have stood up against the doors.
The last subway story is when they were not runny.
The NYC Metro was planning a system-wide strike on January 1, 1966. Since I didn’t want to miss classes, I made plans to stay with friends at school. I think my Mom and Dad brought me to Brooklyn after the holidays. I stayed in the dorms which were across the street from Pratt Institute in a 17-story apartment building. The strike lasted 12 days.
I only have 3 vivid memories of my stay at the dorms:
The Batman TV program premiered on January 12, 1966. The world stopped and our dorm mates congregated at the only TV on the floor. POW! BANG! Ka-POW!
I had to cram for a test.
I lied about living at the dorm so I could eat at the cafeteria for free.
The Date: November 9, 1965. The Time: 5:27 PM. The Location: Somewhere in the bowels of the NYC.
NYC Metro Subway Map; My Daily Commute
The Alphabet Soup Commute
I know exactly what I was doing on that day and time. I will never forget it. But I’ll write it down for you. I was traveling from school to home on my daily commute. School was Pratt Institute in Brooklyn. My home was on East 195th Street in The Bronx. Usually, on the NYC Subway, it’s the “G” train South to the “A” train West to the “D” train North. It took about 1.5 hours one way. Not this Tuesday afternoon.
At 5:27 PM, the “A” train I was on came to a slow stop. It wasn’t like the screeching brakes were used as usual. Almost immediately, the small emergency 5 watt electric light bulb illuminated in our car. I had a seat with a friend and the subway car was not full. This happens from time to time and the train resumes travel quickly. Not today. It didn’t look like the train would get on it’s way anytime soon. People started moving to the front of the train. What’s going on? Where are they going? There were no announcements or warnings.
Only one way to find out. My friend and I got up and started walking to the front of the train. I’m thinking, “How are all these people fitting in the first train car?” They weren’t. They were leaving the train and we were not at a station yet. One of the two sliding doors at the front of the train was open. Passengers were exiting the train with the help of Metro personnel. My friend And I shuffled our way to the open door and left the train. Now what? In the dark!
Tunnel Vision
There were subway employees with flash lights but very little illumination from emergency lighting. From the train we stepped onto a narrow catwalk which ran along the tracks. And the adventure begins. I could barely see but we were about 50 yards from the next station. From the catwalk there was a short ladder to the tracks. Then, walk along the tracks until we got to the station. It was the West 4th Street station, under Greenwich Village. Passengers were queued up to climb the next ladder from the tracks to the station platform. My pal and I, young as we were, decided to hop up to the platform. Every turn and corner was barely lit. Now up to the street.
We followed other passengers up the steps to the next level where the turnstiles are positioned and tokens are sold. There, I noticed two immigrant women, dressed in black, on their knees, praying the rosary. “Holy Smoke! What do they know that I don’t?” I didn’t ask. The next flight of stairs brought us to the street.
Chaos?
Everything was still dark, except for the headlights of the passing cars and trucks. The street was alive with hurrying people. Traffic lights were out, yet young people, teens, were directing traffic with flashlights. It was an orderly chaos. We heard there was a massive power outage. Nevertheless, there was no panic or screaming except for fire and police sirens. All the buildings and streetlamps around us were dark.
We had to get home, but how? My pal lived in the Bronx as well, but a different neighborhood. It was at least 13 miles away. Trains were not available. Bus? I had no clue how to navigate the city by bus. Plus they were all full. Walk? Fat chance. Well maybe a slim chance. We decided to walk to the West Side Drive, about a dozen short blocks away. The best plan was to hitch.
Hitchhiking: The 1960s Uber
We didn’t have to wait long. Some nice guy stopped and we gladly jumped into a stranger’s car. He was going North and so were we. We got all the latest news from the car radio. Holy smokes! It was a huge mess. I noticed the lights on the Jersey side as we drove past the George Washington Bridge. New Jersey had lights too. Freaky. We continued to drive North into the Riverdale section of The Bronx. If we continued, we would be getting further from home. So our helpful stranger pulled off the highway to let us out. At this point my friend and I split up. He was closer to home than I was.
The Home Stretch (Literally)
I didn’t realize until recently that my trip home now would be another 4-5 miles. There were no other options than walk. I saw 1 bus, going in the wrong direction. I navigated as best I could by the main streets I knew and the elevated train routes. There was no Google Maps.
Walk, walk, walk. La-de-da. Walk, walk, uneventful walk. Neighborhood and streets began getting more familiar. I think I got home around 9:00 PM. My mom was glad to see me. My Dad was at work, kind of. His shift at the machine shop started at 5 PM. Lights went out around 5:30. He and his crew sat round for hours, getting paid, with nothing to do. The boss let the crew go at about 11 PM. The lights came on shortly thereafter.
Final Score:
Electricity: 0 New York Spirit: 1
What an adventure! Sorry, no pictures. They were all underexposed anyway.
