Femi Zaccheus

Writer

These boots definitely weren’t made for walking, I thought to myself as I walked past bodegas I’ve never seen before. You know how they say the last six miles of a marathon are run on straight-up adrenaline? That’s exactly what this extra ten minutes of walking to the L train felt like. As I dragged my just beaten up enough Doc Martens down Wyckoff Avenue, I glanced at the Planet Fitness and vowed to get a membership on my way home.  

Starting on July 1, the M train ran only from Myrtle Avenue into the city, meaning everyone who lived from Central Avenue to the end of the line at the Metropolitan Avenue stops had to use shuttles, buses, or their own legs to get to complete their commutes. And even though a small part of the M train is back in operation, the trip for Ridgewood and Middle Village residents is still not continuous. The shutdowns were billed as “The Summer Of Hell” for people like me who rely on the M train out of Ridgewood.

As I shuffled down the steps to the L train on that first day of the shutdown at Myrtle-Wyckoff I couldn’t help but miss the fresh air of the above ground Seneca M train stop. Here I was rudely greeted by a wave of hot, stale air as though I had been transported in time to my high school gym’s locker room. Summer of Hell indeed.