Monday, April 7, 2014

Lexington Avenue LOV!

The smart fans practically had the car all to themselves.

Underneath Grand Central Terminal on the platform of the Lexington Avenue Express, we were waiting. The train was at least half an hour overdue. The early birds were losing their patience.

The crowd swelled as more eager Yankee fans lined up for the express train to 161st Street. At least half a dozen out-of-towners stood right behind me while a "5" train squeaked and squealed as it stopped on the platform.

"Is this the train?" They weren't asking me. Mistake.

"No," said the self-appointed one. "See how all these Yankee fans aren't getting on the train? We need the next one. I can tell: I'm smart."

Smart you are, I thought to myself. She didn't notice that more than half of the people in Yankee attire didn't bother to board the next--and very crowded-- "4" train. My noisy, temporary neighbors left. They got no LOV.

A few minutes later, the trucks rumbled and an applause broke out. The Lo-V train was here!


Vintage. Classic. Pride and Tradition. An original Lo-Voltage New York City subway train was ready for its annual trip from Grand Central to Yankee Stadium to mark opening day.

As soon we got on, it was clear that MTA was relaxing its no-photography policy, and everybody took at least two dozen photos. And why not? These original New York City Subway Trains were beauty to the core: Padded seats, ceiling fans, and advertisements that promoted aftershave and candy instead of breast implants and divorce.




The car I was riding was built in 1924, just a few months after my Bronx-born grandfather entered this world. I thought about him as the subway raced underneath Lexington Avenue on its way to Yankee Stadium. I thought about grandpa Donohue and his stories about seeing Lou Gehrig and Joe Dimaggio at the old Yankee Stadium. I speculated what the odds were that he rode this very train. I thought about the time when he took my to my first Yankee game in 1990.


The padded seats were comfortable. I felt like I was riding in my father's 1942 Ford station wagon. However, these old cars did nothing to filter out the noise. The whir of the train as it whooshed through the tunnel was deafening, so much so that the clickety-clack of the tracks was reduced to mere background noise. It didn't stop people from socializing, but it did require having to shout just make yourself heard. The ride was drafty, too. So much so that we felt a cool breeze along the way. Between the noise and the draft, it felt like riding in the Subway equivalent of a convertible!

Finally, as if turning on a light switch, we were above ground. From the window, we could see the original grass from the old Yankee Stadium. Across the street, the new Cathedral was ready. We were ready.

We stepped off the train. Yankee baseball, 2014 here we come!









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