The train from Long Island into the city was laggardly clacking away the evening of December 31, 1968. It was taking me to a transfer station, where I would have to take a second train to reach Grand Central and it was hopeless; that train was long gone by the time we arrived. There was another, later, train which I trundled onto, but it would arrive too late to meet my buddies for New Years Eve in Times Square.
Meeting my buddies in Times Square on New Years Eve--what could go wrong?
My plan admittedly had the marks of youth and wishful thinking. I was a freshman in college and had gone home to Bethesda for the winter break. The idea was: visit my roommate at her family home in Long Island, then leave her to meet up with a couple of freshman guys who would come down from Connecticut for New Years Eve at Times Square, take the train with them back to one of their houses and then go back to Cambridge for the next semester. What could go wrong? I may have described this plan to my parents as visiting my roommate’s family and then returning to school. The New York City part fell into the category of things I didn’t think they really wanted to know.
Grand Central was pretty deserted as we pulled in after midnight. I didn’t know New York, and didn’t have a backup plan. Also, of course, no cell phone or internet, as they didn’t exist outside of Dick Tracy cartoons. The train platform was dark. I made my way a bit numbly towards the exit. A couple of shadowy figures approached.
Screams of elation! They were my friends! They had come to meet the train I was supposed to be on, hadn’t found me and thought maybe I had a change of heart. They went on to Times Square for the crowd and ball drop, but after midnight, still a bit worried, they decided to check back to see if there had been a delay (more savvy about the transportation snafus than I) and if I had come on a later train. They had just about given up.
Buoyed by the good fortune, we rambled the downtown streets to drink in the New Years remnants. The Square was nearly empty. One of the guys had gone to Music and Arts High School and knew his way around, suggested we stop by WBAI to wave at the programmers there. They also knew how to catch the special 3 a.m. train that only ran on New Years, taking people out of the city towards Connecticut. This train was packed with bleary partyers, some of them weaving from one end of the train to the other while passengers gradually departed with each stop.
By early morning, we arrived in Stamford and the safety of my friend’s home, as if nothing had gone awry. It was 1969 now, and the coming years would bring more travels, friends, lovers, demonstrations, and experiences that I never told my parents about. I don’t really regret that they never heard those stories since they would just have worried more. I’m sure I never heard all of theirs either.
Khati Hendry
Thanx Khati for the wonderful tale of your wise friends who had the forethought to come back and meet the later train.
And thanx for that prompt idea – Things I Never Told My Parents!
I thought New Yorkers would appreciate the situation. I like that prompt idea—if we ever put new ones out again. Glad your comment went through too.
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Khati, I love this story! As a teen and young adult, I always wanted to go to Times Square for New Year’s Eve. Although I only lived a half hour outside of NY, I never made it there, much to my disappointment. How funny that because of train snafus, you got to Times Square AFTER midnight when it was nearly empty. Still, there must have been lots of interesting detritus scattered around.
This NYE I was in NY for a wedding, but it was not anywhere near Times Square. I wished I could have snuck out and watched the ball go down at midnight. That was the closest I have been, and probably the closest I will ever be.
Glad you could empathize with the story. I guess in today’s parlance my experience was NYE adjacent, or something like that. But it was adventure enough with finding my friends, roaming the city in the aftermath and then catching the train off to Connecticut.
Wow! I’m trying to recall if I ever in my life had an experience of being “rescued” from what seemed like a very lonely and perhaps dangerous misadventure–I haven’t come up with one! You told the tale with all the thrill and edginess of one who was there, not the self-satisfied tone of one who made it through.
INteresting remark about your parents probably having their own set of misadventures from which they equally shielded you: I’m not sure I’ve ever had that thought (about my own parents). So thanks, Khati. In 2025, you are still giving me new (vicarious experiences) and you are still making me think.
When I was young and invincible ha ha, things didn’t seem as dangerous at the time as they now seem when I look back. Probably a good thing youth are intrepid or they might give up when that is not really an option. Like now. I also didn’t think much about my parents having their unshared stories, but of course they must have had them—self-centered youth never considered that but long-in-the-tooth me has a different perspective.
Considering my parent’s somewhat Runyonesque younger days, I can only imagine the stories that they never told me!
Funny how, when considering parents as their own wandering souls and not parental figures, we can imagine new perspectives on our own lives too. Interesting exercise. Thanks for the comments!
Cool tale! I grew up and lived very close to NYC for many years, but never once considered doing the Times Square New Year’s Eve thing. I get antsy in crowds numbering in the millions…
I really loved how you reacted when you saw your friends on the platform. Seeing familiar faces when you are alone and nervous is such a wondrous feeling.