Saying a little prayer to God at every beginning and end of each traveling journey is part of a daily routine that I always do for the past three years. Some of my friends think that I"m being too religious for having this devout attitude. None of them know that there is a poignant experience behind this religious routine. This miraculous occurrence is the main cause of this particular religious routine that I have. This is how the incident started:.
It was during Christmas Eve 1997 and I was just got out from St. Patrick's Cathedral, which is located at 5th Ave, between 50th and 51st St., after attending a seven o"clock Christmas Eve's mass in there. Then I started walking for a few blocks to the Fifth Ave. subway station to take the E or F train to get home. Next, I took the first available train that arrived, which was the F train; not knowing that something bizarre was going to happen to me in that train.
There were not that many passengers in that particular car that I was in, there were only about six to eight commuters including myself. I could tell from the heavy shopping bags, which they were carrying that they were mostly last-minute Christmas shoppers. I assumed that most New Yorkers were home and spent their Christmas Eve dinner with their families and friends. .
The train was just leaving the Elmhurst Ave. station and was running towards the Grand Ave. Newtown station, when I suddenly saw from the right window of the car a big blast of fire came out from under the train, followed with a loud bang. All of a sudden, the train came to an abrupt stop, the lights went to an emergency mode, and smoke slowly started to fill the room. All of the commuters in that car, included myself, were panicked. We quickly got up from our seats and tried to find a way out to another car. Unfortunately, both exit doors, which were located at each end of the car, were the types of doors that passengers cannot open.