Locals react to London bombings ‘We have to go on with our lives'

HARRIMAN-There's a mental toughness about New Yorkers, whether you live there or make the commute into the city every workday from places like the Metro North train station in Harriman. Such was the case last Friday, the day after the terrorist attacks on London's buses and trains. "I'm getting married," one commuter boarding at Harriman exclaimed as the conductor check her ticket. "Yeah, my daughter just got married too," he replied. "I can't wait, it's gonna' be in the city," she said. Smiling, the conductor said, "Good luck; it's gonna' be beautiful." Just then, a middle-aged woman called out. "Wait, I need to get off next. Which way do is the exit? she asked, pulling her luggage from the rack above her seat. The young bride-to-be pointed to the back. "Thanks," the departing woman replied, shaking her head with a sign of relief. It is not indifference that makes for lighthearted conversation. It's more of a matter of what accepting what is since the world changed on Sept. 11, 2001. It's a matter of getting on the train. "What choice do I have?" said Marlena Dominguez, 32, commuting to her housekeeping job in Manhattan via the F train. "I got to get to work and I don't got a car. I'll just say a little prayer and hope for the best." When the train from Harriman reached the Secaucus Junction, where travelers switch to the New Jersey PATH train to get to Penn Station in Manhattan. There were people shuffling for trains, people running to catch the next PATH, people struggling to find change to pay the ticket machine, people lost, people asking directions, and people cursing for who knows what reason. Through the turnstiles, officers and National Guard stood with their machine guns mounted. The struggle to find a seat on the Path train was a problem today. People read the New York Post and the Daily News. Photos of the London blitz covered page one of New York's tabloids. Rolling into Penn Station, the crowds were normal. Pushing, running, and briefcases were the sight. The smokers had their lighters ready as soon as they exited Penn and entered into the Midtown streets. The National Guard and members of the N.Y.P.D. watched over for any suspicious activity. "Take the subway. Ride the train. Go to work. Play in the parks," Gov. George Pataki said at Grand Central Terminal before hopping a subway to lower Manhattan. "The best security is there to protect you, and it will be there night and day so long as it is necessary." To reassure the public, the NYPD doubled the number of cops on patrol. K-9 units were deployed to subways and buses and the NYPD ordered that every train car be visually inspected. The bomb squad was put on extended 12-hour tours, and COBRA teams were out checking for chemical, biological and radiological weapons. Hundreds of state police and National Guard troops were sent to transit hubs and suburban cops riding commuter trains into the city were given full police powers. The businessman who sat in the front car from Harriman was going to Wall Street and the Mexican-American going to visit family was doing just that - going to see his family. They already know what to look out for: Unattended packages, liquid containers and electronics, anyone who gets off a bus or train but leaves a backpack behind, anyone taking photographs of seemingly mundane things - train tracks, buses, the undersides of bridges, or simply an agitated commuter. The return trip is no different. And people like Marilyn Richardson put up with the trouble because "I refuse to be held hostage." Richardson, a 38-year-old single mother with three daughters at home in Middletown, just got off a 10 hour-shift at her hospital job as a dialysis technician. She would be stopping through Harriman and has been considering re-locating to the Monroe area. "If you live in fear, you can't be productive," she said. "Fear paralyzes. With so much paranoia, if you let it get to you, it can make you a schizophrenic. I got to go on with my life." On Sept.11, 2001, Richardson was working in a Baltimore hospital. "One of my friends told me a plane hit the World Trade Center and I didn't believe it," she recalled. "There was total silence. The whole day everything just stopped." When incidents in places like London happen, what happened on Sept.11 in New York flashes back. "I try to put it out of my head," said Sean Degrot, a 23-year-old New Jersey firefighter from Orange County traveling home on the Harriman-Port Jervis line. "It could happen here - nobody knows. But I'm ready for anything, especially here in New York." What did happen on the return trip the following day was a derailment that caused delays and confusion on the Main Bergen line of New Jersey Transit. Trains were re-routed, stopped and travelers had no idea what to do - they were being sent from track to track, station to station but could not get home because of the confusion. A handful of strangers - blacks, whites, young, old, overweight, skinny, slim, earrings, no-earrings, smokers, non-smokers - came together for the hours in which they were stranded on the platforms with no way to get home. They shared beverages, cigarettes, books, newspapers, phones and seats. For a few hours, they were friends as they spoke about everything from their thoughts on the London terror attacks to stories about their families. They took turns trying to find out what was the matter and to fund a way home. Finally, several hours later and with the sun setting, a train rolled by and it stopped. These strangers said goodbye to one another. On most any other day they might not have even noticed. They got on the train.