Photo by Vincent Belford
I’ll never forget my first trip into Manhattan from our new home in New Jersey. It was on a bus that went straight through the Lincoln Tunnel and right into the middle of Times Square. Those few minutes in that dark, narrow tunnel underneath the Hudson River, I kept wondering, “What am I gonna see when we come out the other side?” The answer was an awe-inspiring array of skyscrapers, traffic, people, and lights.
Since then, the novelty and excitement from that first trip has worn off a bit. I’m still amazed and privileged to be here, doing what I do, but the city can be rough at times. After a 9-hour day of fighting crowds and constant shivering through the dirty streets and subways, I long for a quiet place to hear myself think, warm my hands, use a clean bathroom. A corner Starbucks just doesn’t cut it.
After my last battle with the subway for the day, and my final fight with the Port Authority Bus Terminal, I once again long for that tunnel. Only this time, the light at the end of it, is home.