Being a New Yorker, public transportation is a large part of my life, especially since I cannot drive nor do I own a vehicle of any sort. Dependency on public transportation can prove to be a problem at times, not only because trains and buses are usually never on time, but also because of my wild imagination; I would occasionally fear riding the public bus or taking the train because of atrocious events that occur in reality, such as the Upper East side groping incidents, and because of scenes in movies, such as the Final Destination series. After the 9/11 attacks, that anxiety did grow to a certain extent, but not to the extent that I would stop using public transportation. My apprehension was slightly similar to that of Oskar’s in Jonathan Safran Foer’s novel, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, who never takes a bus or train on his journey to find the owner of the key hidden in a vase. In the beginning of his adventure, Oskar travels to Queens for the first time; however, his extreme fear of buses and trains forces him to journey there by foot from Manhattan. He walks towards the bridge that leads to Queens, walks over it, and continues to his destination.
Similar to Oskar’s journey, there is a memory of mine that I thought was quite an experience. I remember a sweltering, sunny Saturday, and the feeling of the sun’s rays shining down on me as I squinted against the brightness of the sun. It was the last race of the day and I was ready to head home. With my pen and clipboard at hand, I prepared myself for the sound of the gun. In a flash the race was over and I had successfully jotted down everyone’s times.
It was finally time to go home. I remember standing at the bus stop with the team, shielding myself from the sun’s rays with a piece of paper, as we all chatted amongst ourselves. After a long period of time, the team had decided we would walk to the train station. And thus began our journey, walking to Manhattan from Randall’s Island.
I never thought I would ever walk over a bridge in my life. In the moment, all I remember thinking about was how blazing hot it was and how exhausted I was. I remember walking alongside speeding cars. I remember the shadows of the bridge covering the pathway and shielding the sun from our eyes. I remember observing the architecture of the bridge with all its bolts and hinges. And finally, I remember the cheers of the team for making the right decision of walking as we made it across the bridge before the bus.

Thinking back to this memory, it was exciting and memorable. The bonding and laughter shared with the team that day, and the fact that it was the first time walking over a bridge, and most likely my last time walking over a bridge, made a deep impression in my life.