Tag: Trains

Today, I saw the Face of God

How beautiful! The idea of God is so beautiful and loving.

But I cannot say the same for his creation, man. How can we be totally so much the opposite!? We live life like it does not matter – Like a human life has no value at all and some people are willing to steal a life in a New York second.

But I now know God has a plan for us all.

Today, I cut class and was hanging out at the Prospect Ave EL train station. Just hanging & talking to the toll collector.
“Kid, why are you not in school?” he asks.
“oh, I’m just waiting for the next train to arrive.”

See everybody in PS-32 is talking about SUPER KOOL 223’s new tag. He painted it on the side of one of those new #5 train cars. The cops are really after him for what they call ‘graffiti.’ But this tag is supposed to be like no other tag riding the rails and I’m dying to see it!
super kool 223I waited for, what felt like hours and still no tag. I’m getting tired! But as I’m getting ready to leave, the strangest thing happens!

This guy, tall skinny non-descript kind of guy – don’t know why I noticed him anyway – is standing at the edge of the platform. His toes are hanging off the edge.

Behind him is this strange dude. A short guy with dark eyes and shiny, almost oily, hair. You know the type that stands out on any train platform. I noticed that he was casing out the tall dude. Sure enough – as the tall, skinny guy leans out to see the train as it approaches, the short dude steals his wallet and – almost as if to say ‘gotcha’, leaves his mark by pushing the tall dude in front of the rushing train.

Wooosh!!!! Ratta tata tata!!! wooosh!!!

Holly shit! That was way too fast!

The train is an express, heading downtown, and it just barrels right thru the platform, non-stop as if it was running late for something. We all run out to the yellow-stripped, steel edge of the platform to see what’s left of him.

As we lean over, much to our amazement – the guy is just laying there face down! I can’t believe my eyes! Nothing happened to him! He landed in a deep, dirty pocket between the tracks, where all the wind-swept trash accumulates.

He stands up and just dusts the dirt off – as if nothing happened.

Today is truly an amazing day! Holy Fu%&! ‘didn’t get him!’
He has something to be thankful about – Today was not his day to die!

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Our Fishing Hole

Hunts Point is the only place in the So Bronx that, despite it’s reputation, feels safe. During the day, at the point, forklifts move everything around; trucks haul by with their full loads; trains scream by with their deadlines, but everybody has a job to do and no one is willing to jeopardize that for anything or anybody.

By night the streetwalkers of the Point come out to work; the Homeless come out looking for a dark corner to call home; and the johns come looking for comfort. Each doing their own thing, none looking for trouble.

Maybe because of its anonymity or maybe because of the I-don’t-have-time-to-give-a-shit atmosphere, this place is not threatening to me.

Or maybe because it is the one place where my brother and I can go fishing. The other day we were there while a guy caught an eel. He kept yelling “I caught an eeeeeel!” I saw an innocence in his eyes – as if it was the first time he’s caught anything.

Usually while my mother does her early morning “Farmer’s Market” shopping, we go to the dock. As we are waiting for the fish to bite, we talk about nothing and everything. We watch the waves crash against the pilings and the sound it makes is the most soothing sound I’ve ever heard. The water of the Hudson is filthy and has a terrible stench. We would not dare keep the fish we caught – we knew better – but there is something about fishing on the pier that gives me hope…

Maybe we are just normal kids in spite of our circumstances.

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