How Riding the #6 Train Changed My Life Forever

It was just another day as I entered the number 6 train in Midtown Manhattan, one year ago. I had my mask on to protect myself against the dangers of the global pandemic.

As I sized up my surroundings, I saw nothing abnormal and observed people sending and receiving text messages on their phones. Our transit system provides free internet service in most train stations. Passengers can receive/send emails/text messages each time the train stops at a station and read and compose text messages in-between stations.

Little did I know that in the next couple of seconds, I would experience a life-changing event!

A young man walked onto the train and stared at me with an angry-looking facial expression. Growing up in an inner-city, low-income crime-ridden public housing project, I learned that my response to a person’s stare had to be modified and reflect the needs of different situations.

By way of example, if a person had a threatening look, an enthusiastic smile might suggest an aura of vulnerability. However, if I responded with an aggressive look, it could also be interpreted as confrontational and be met with further aggression.

Using this well-honed instinct from my childhood upbringing of more than 50 years ago, I proceeded to tailor my response accordingly. But given that I had consciously decoupled from that environment over 40 years ago, I also realized that my actions could come across as being phony and contrived.

Deciding on my response was a close call but a decision I had to make within seconds. In the end, I decided to emit a confident but tepid response.

I also contemplated getting off the train but decided against it to avoid emitting a sign of weakness.

With only four train stops remaining to my destination, I decided to try to survive my ordeal.

After two additional train stops, his aggression intensified but, I still hoped, I could survive this dangerous situation. Little did I know that his anger would continue to escalate. As the train approached the next train stop, i.e., one-stop before my destination, he got up from his seat and began to walk towards me.

Why the Odds Were so Heavily Stacked Against Me

My aggressive assailant was about 23 years old, which gave him the home court advantage given that I was 64 years old. As he walked towards me, a surge of adrenalin began to flow throughout my entire body as I fully understood that this could end very badly for me.

His first words were, “Why are you staring at me and disrespecting me?”

I could have denied staring at him, but I knew that aggressors need a reason to escalate an argument, so disagreeing with his statement would surely be a losing strategy. As a result, I decided to act confused to buy myself time until I arrived at my destination.

Soon I noticed his body winding up to punch me. I had taken Karate about 40 years prior and remembered my blocking stance but knew that I didn’t have the speed or ability to execute anything I had learned so many years ago. Still, it was the best I could do to defend myself until either someone intervened or until he walked away.

Miraculously, I blocked the punch to my face, which left us both in complete shock. He started yelling at me and telling me he could kill me if he wanted to. I didn’t respond because engaging my assailant in an argument would give him another reason to attempt another forceful blow. I also knew that I would probably not be as lucky the second time evading his aggressive actions.

Fortunately, my assailant was so embarrassed by his inability to penetrate my defensive block in front of all the other passengers that he walked away and just kept saying, “I can easily kill you.”

I got off at the next train stop shaking and shocked that I had escaped mayhem without anyone’s help. Sadly, all bystanders acted as if nothing had happened. I don’t blame them because I knew that coming to my rescue would have put them all in harm’s way.

I stopped at Police Officer at my destination station and described everything. The first thing he asked was, “Were you hurt?” I was honest and said, “No, I was not.” He then responded by saying, “You have no real reason to file a police report since you were one of the lucky ones. Many people end up being badly injured or killed in your situation, and you should count your lucky stars and call it a day.”

While this experience left me shaken for a few hours, I was amazed that the instincts I had developed growing up in rough lower-income housing projects had served me well nearly 50 years later.

It was a close one, but my inner strength had served me well and given me the energy to survive this terrifying experience!

Lessons Learned From My Ordeal

After looking back at what happened to me over a year ago, I no longer take each day for granted because on that fateful morning, my life could have easily come to an end and prevented me from enjoying the gift of a new day each morning I wake up!

Today, I fully understand that all the daily annoyances of my day-to-day life are trivial compared to what I experienced a year ago on the #6 train!