Road Trippin in 1973
Estimated reading time: 14 minutes, 26 seconds
The Lazy L is a Painful Ride Home
As I entered the Lazy L train to Brooklyn, a passenger got off and left a copy of the Daily News on his seat. I picked it up and glanced at the headline. What caught my eye was not the headlines but the date, August 9, 1973. I would drive a car from Brooklyn to Miami on my first vacation in nineteen days. All I had to do was stay strong enough for one last bike trip to Cape Cod.
The lights flickered, and my mind drifted back to the unpleasant encounter with the couple when I entered the subway. Was it the Jan I met or another Jan? Why didn’t I do something to stop him? What could I have done?
When I was in college, I intervened a few times. I might inquire about a class I took and if they had taken it. Usually, the abusive guy slinked away.
NY was different. When I first arrived, I had tried to intervene in what appeared to be a heated argument.
“Is everything OK?” When I asked the question, I had been walking from Grand Central Terminal to catch the A train at 42nd and Eighth.
“We were just having a friendly conversation,” the woman said.
“Good,” I said as I continued on my route.
Suddenly the woman was beside me. Her arm looped around my right arm.
“Let’s pretend we are on a date,” she said.
When we got to Fifth Avenue, she removed her arm.
“Thanks; I did not want the police to arrest me. They do not like us working in this part of town.”
Being a little naïve, it took me a minute to comprehend what type of work she did.
“I am glad I could help,” I said. “My name is Richard.”
“Thanks. You can call me Julie. Are you interested in having a good time tonight?”
“No,” I said as we went our separate ways.
“I can make you very happy,” she said. “Because you helped me, I would do everything to make you very happy!”
I shook my head negatively. “I have a girlfriend….”
After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.
