bagel
October 27th, 2004, 10:24 AM
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We all have our memories of the trains. I remember my first time riding the 7 as a newly arrived New Yorker, marvelling at the Manhattan skyline as the subway car passed through Long Island City before it zipped into the darkness of the East River tunnel. My ears popped and all of the sudden, the view that seemed to move slowly above ground turned into a blur of motion outside our windows. Graffitied names appeared briefly, fuzzy under the glow of the emergency lights. Those were the days when the subway cars didn't all have airconditioning and I was sweating just by standing still. Before I moved to New York, I was warned about the grime, the crime and the maze underground-- these were the 80s after all. But I never felt afraid. The tunnels were comforting then and are still comforting now. I think there's something about the darkness between stations that was constant. While the streets above were frenetic, dynamic and chaotic, the space beneath didn't seem to change much. And this, despite the feeling (if you're lucky to be on a fast train) of rapid movement. There was always something warm about the incandescent lights that marked the support posts underground. There was also something optimistic, especially to us Queens-dwellers, about being in the dark and finally popping out into a bright sunny day on the other side of the river. I look forward to each of these things everytime I step onto the trains and I definitely miss them now that I am in California.
Happy 100th! May you be as fast, smelly, loud, busy, jam-packed, damp, cold-in-winter, hot-in-summer as ever. We love you, warts and all!
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We all have our memories of the trains. I remember my first time riding the 7 as a newly arrived New Yorker, marvelling at the Manhattan skyline as the subway car passed through Long Island City before it zipped into the darkness of the East River tunnel. My ears popped and all of the sudden, the view that seemed to move slowly above ground turned into a blur of motion outside our windows. Graffitied names appeared briefly, fuzzy under the glow of the emergency lights. Those were the days when the subway cars didn't all have airconditioning and I was sweating just by standing still. Before I moved to New York, I was warned about the grime, the crime and the maze underground-- these were the 80s after all. But I never felt afraid. The tunnels were comforting then and are still comforting now. I think there's something about the darkness between stations that was constant. While the streets above were frenetic, dynamic and chaotic, the space beneath didn't seem to change much. And this, despite the feeling (if you're lucky to be on a fast train) of rapid movement. There was always something warm about the incandescent lights that marked the support posts underground. There was also something optimistic, especially to us Queens-dwellers, about being in the dark and finally popping out into a bright sunny day on the other side of the river. I look forward to each of these things everytime I step onto the trains and I definitely miss them now that I am in California.
Happy 100th! May you be as fast, smelly, loud, busy, jam-packed, damp, cold-in-winter, hot-in-summer as ever. We love you, warts and all!