We Are Having a Baby!
Estimated reading time: 11 minutes, 35 seconds
Subway Strike
“Do you think there will be a strike,” I ask the police officer behind the desk? He is older than me, but we are the same height. However, he has sixty pounds on me. The complications of a desk job, I presume. I have arrived to get crime stats for the two precincts. I need the data for a community crime prevention program grant application. If there are no buses or subway, how will I get our application section from Crown Heights to the northwestern Bronx?”
“Throwing up his hands, the cop mumbles, “Idon’t know.”
“The voice on WINS says in a staccato voice,””No progress on negotiations, and we are eight hours away from the strike deadline. The Transport Workers Union leader said….”
“Which precincts do you want the data for?”
I provide the two Crown Heights precincts.
“Why do you need this data?”
“We are submitting a grant application to help create and improve community-police cooperation,” I stated. It was more than that, but I did not have time to debate with the officer.
“Holding the papers tightly, he spoke loudly, “As long as you are working with my guys on the streets and not attacking the boys in blue.”
I said yes as clearly as possible, and he handed me the paperwork.
“Thanks.”
I left the office on the fifth floor; I would typically walk to the street level in most buildings. But this is the NYC Police headquarters, so I take the elevator.
“Would the transit union go on strike on April 1st? It was the worst day to close down mass transit. I could imagine a tabloid headline:””No Subway Service Today! April Fools!”
I trudged toward the subway and reviewed our contingency plans.
Jan’s boss had agreed to drive her to and from work, although neither of us knew John owned a car.
I could walk to work, as could all the staff except one who planned to stay with a cousin near our office.
The only two issues I knew were that I had to deliver our portion of the proposal by the 7th and leave for a conference in DC on the 10th.
Would the strike be over by then?
I crossed my fingers as I boarded the D train for home.
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.
