D Train Story Revisited
A Bronx Story from a Guy from the Bronx
Date: 10/8/2007 7:20:22 PM ( 17 y ) ... viewed 1889 times A Bronx Story
It is a crisp cool Monday morning when I board the D train to Manhattan to begin my Morning Commute. It is another wet and cold winter day underground in the Bronx. The cold wind has found its way through 6the subway grates and onto the Fordham Road subway platform.
The subway platform is backed with morning commuters huddled up against the walls trying to keep warm. The subway station is being washed down by one the attendants and has created a bone chilling cold mist.
After a few minutes of jogging in place to try to keep warm. The D train to NYC pulls into the station. It is a little past 8am when I board what is supposed to be the express D train. Soon after the train leaves the station I manage to beat another commuter to a prime corner subway seat. Corner seats are great because you are only sharing it with one other person and it is close to the exit and to the car doors to switch train cars. I soon settle into my seat and attempt to read the NY Post. The NY post is a Tabloid type newspaper that makes for easier reading on trains and places with limited space.
We have traveled only as far as 180th street station when the first announcement
Comes over the train’s intercom. The announcer’s message is in a loud crackly voice.
“Ladies and Gentleman we have a red light and we should be moving shortly”. I wish I had a nickel for every time I heard those infamous words. We then slowly start moving into the Tremont Avenue station. There is another announcement “”Ladies and Gentlemen we are being held at the station. We are waiting for a train to clear the station. We should be moving shortly”. A sigh comes over the passengers, the people are growing anxious and I am wondering what we are waiting for. There has not been a train for over ten minutes, we have hardly moved and we are waiting for a train to clear a station? Why? Where did this mystery train come from?
A transient is stretched across three seats and is taking up valuable rush hour space. The stench of alcohol grows stronger. No one dares to say anything to this man who is oblivious to the rush hour passengers. He unsuccessfully tries to light a cigarette. But, his hands are too shaky .The wide eyed Passengers just stare silently. The transient looks into the directrion of a neighboring woman who quickly turns away in fright. He waves his finger at her and mumbles a few unrecognizable words.
This is going to be a long trip to manhattan. Before the doors close at Tremont Avenue.
A young man sticks his radio between the closing subway doors. The doors pop open an he leaps into the crowded subway car. He is carrying a radio that is large enough to have it’s own zip code. Luckily for us he is not playing it.
The advertisement above the subway seat tells me that I am safer now on the subway than I was 30 years ago, or something to that effect. Really? I am reminded of old propaganda films. If one is told something enough times. People believe that the lie is actually a truth. Ha Ha, growing up living under the control of the Old Democratic Party machine in NYC. I sure understand that. So, there si less dirt, Crime, Garbage, and annoyances on our fair subway systen than there were 30 years ago? Hmmm
I think back to a more peaceful time in my youth. I am riding the D train from Fordham Road to 161st Street and Yankee Stadium. As I usually did during baseball season. I was a Mets fan and a Yankee hater and would punish myself with the disappointment of seeing only few Yankee losses but many Yankee victories. Damn Yankees!
I was very observant as a young man and as I recall. It was a subway system that was free of urine, Spatters, hawkers, Alcohol, and the thought of hopping a Turnstile is one most people did not have. I have a memory of a subway system that is free of graffiti, and had subway windows that one could actually see through. It was a subway free of window glass carvings. I don’t seem to recall beggars or anyone hawking toys , batteries or gum.
I do not recall mini subway music festivals or sleeping cars. I remember when gum was actually purchased in vending machines for a nickel. I do recall an occasional ciagerette smoker, before the politically correct even took over the outside el train stops. Do not recall the subway or station being used as a pharmacy or for happy hour. Something that is now as common as a soft drink on some subway lines. I do not recall a need for Guradian Angels or cops at almost every station.
The Subways are safer and cleaner now than 30 years ago? Cmon, are we being taken for a ride or what? Mye experience this morning is a being jammed on a slow, dirty, crowded and allegedly an express train that is crawling its was across the river. The only rule that is being obeyed on this subway ride is there are no animals. Well, not of the four legged kind. The train is moving at a snails pace and ghetto blaster boy cranks up the volume to a steady beat of loud undistinguishable lyrics that have some moving to the rhythm and others just shaking their head. His radio takes up a good part of the subway car. Someone yells out “Hey Get headphones” My Express D train finally pulls out of Tremont Avenue Station and the announcement says “Next stop on this express D train is 145th Street in Manhattan” Express D train, you say? Tehn why am I seeing the local c train pass us as we once again make an unscheduled stop? Where did that local train come from? How long have those passengers been enduring their cramped, ride from hell? And if not why not? Why shouldn’t they have to suffer?
I start to wonder if Ralph Kramden would feel comfortable on the subway with Alice
Returning home from a night on the town in Manhattan. Would Ralph and Alice take a midnight train to canarsie? Would Rob and Laura Petry take Metro North From New Rochelle and maybe get off at Fordham Road to maybe save a few bucks. Maybe, to take a leisurely stroll up Fordham Road to the Grand Concourse to catch the D train or the 4 Train on Jerome Avenue to the west side of Manhattan. Would Laura feel it was as safe today as it was in her era? A man is making his way through the crowd speaking loudly. He appears to be speaking on a cell phone and of course cell phones do not work underground. As he gets closer his voice cannot be heard above the ghetto blaster.
As the lanky Cell phone user passes the man with the oversized radio. He gives him a stern look and then a smile. He actually puts his hand on radio mans shoulder. Radioman pauses and is about to brush the mans hand away. Oh no, A subway beef. There is certainly not room enough for two men to be beefing it out in a crowded subway car.
A short but stocky woman is making the sign of the cross as the men look at each other. Then suddenly radio man actually blinks and turns his radio off. Cell phone man pats radio man on the shoulder and offers him his free hand. Radio man says nothing and squeezes his way through the rush hour crowd. Cell Phone man has distinct Puerto Rican accent with a New Yawk twang. He is having a conversation with God. “What’s that you say Lord? If we confess and believe in Jesus…we will be saved? Wow! The passengers are curious and are listening to his conversation with God almighty. The words cell phone man chooses to call him. Cell phone man than asks God is Jesus is sitting at the right hand of him right now. Prays with god. Thanks him and them says goodbye. There is a pause and a short silence when cell phone man has his conversation with god once again from the beginning. But, this time the conversation is in Spanish.
While cell phone man is holding his closed phone in his hand. I hear an actual cell phone ring I am startled. How can cell phone mans phone acturally ring. He was not playing with the ringer. Is this a miracle? Is the cell phone signal sneaking through the cracks and crevices of the underground?
The ring is consistant and a voice grows louder. I laugh as I see a battery salesman try to squeeze his way through the the crowd. He is carrying a fake cell phone with a continuous ring, batteries and other noisy items. The beeping is steady and annoying.
The salesman chant batteries, one dolla, one dolla, cell phone, one dolla, one dolla,
The noise gets the attention of the sleeping rider. He is annoyed by the old Asian battery salesman and makes obscene gestures in his direction. I snicker as I picture an imaginary race between the Eveready Battery Bunny and the D train. The bunny keeps going and going while the train keeps stopping and stopping.
After what seems to be an eternity, we finally pull into the 34th street subway station. We are here, another small miracle on 34th Street. Most of the people have now departed the train. The transient is once again asleep. Managing to collect some change while he was awake. He seems content in his sleeping quarters. Now for some relaxation away from the maddening crowds. Wait, what’s that ad in the post say. Macy’s is having a one-day sale? Conductor, hold those doors I’m getting off.
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