I saw them as soon as I sat down. They were just one row in front of me and across the aisle. South Asian, maybe? Pakistani? They spoke in hushed voices in a language I couldn’t readily identify. What I could hear of their whispers didn’t sound like Arabic but might have been Pashto or Dari or Urdu. Shortly after we pulled out of Providence station, they got up together and went to the caf? car, leaving a CD player and the rest of their belongings unattended in their empty seats. I looked around to see if any of my fellow passengers had noticed them as I had, but it was late and most people were trying to sleep.
When had these two young men gotten on the train? They’d boarded before me, but where? Had they gotten on in Boston, where two of the Sept. 11 planes had begun their fateful flights? Had they checked luggage? What was in the knapsacks they’d left on their seats? Why would they leave expensive electronic equipment just sitting there unwatched? The questions raced through my mind as the train traveled south and west toward Connecticut, but there was no one to ask. I briefly chastised myself for the foolish paranoia I was allowing to consume me, but then I thought of the man who’d apparently tried to ignite his shoes while on a trans-Atlantic flight just a couple of days earlier. If the flight attendant and passengers hadn’t acted quickly to restrain him, who knows what might have happened.
I got up and walked to the caf? car, just one car back. The line had grown quickly, so there were about four people between us. The two men were engaged in conversation, but I made a point of not staring, so that if they turned in my direction, I wouldn’t be caught. After a couple of minutes, I again told myself I was being silly and returned to my seat. They got back a few minutes later and began eating. A last meal? They were drinking water and juice, I noted?no alcohol. Could that be relevant?
I tried to sleep but couldn’t. Since I was on the aisle, there was nothing to lean my head against. Maybe that was for the best. Stay alert. Keep an eye on them. If anything starts to happen, you can move quickly to alert the conductor and the other passengers.
Eventually I began to doze off, but I kept waking up as we arrived at the various stations along the way, and I’d check to see if they were still there. New Haven. Stamford. Next stop, New York City.
The one nearest me, on the aisle, looked at his watch. I looked at mine. It was nearly 1 a.m. Were they waiting for something to happen at a particular time? Were there similar trains approaching from other directions, all due to arrive within a few minutes of one another? As we entered Manhattan, my head filled with a million images, the most horrific of which was a coordinated underground attack in the heart of New York on Christmas Night. In those moments, it never crossed my mind that these two young men, like so many of the rest of us, were probably just trying to figure out if they were going to reach their destination on schedule.
Many of the people in my car got off in New York, but not “them.” They stayed on. In a brief moment of rational thought, I realized that if I allowed myself to continue in this vein I would barely sleep at all during remaining four and a half hours to Washington. I collected my things and moved forward two cars to a vacant window seat. Out of sight, out of mind, I figured. And largely, it worked. With a window to lean my head against and not having to see them every time I opened my eyes, I was able to sleep most of the way home.
I never saw them after that. They may have gotten off in Newark, or they may still have been on board after I got off in Washington and the train continued down into Virginia. I’m sure I’ll never know.
What I do know, though, is that this is how terrorists win. They win not by flying airplanes into buildings, but by instilling in each of us an irrational fear that we might be in the next plane or building or train. They win by making us look at one another nervously until every time we see someone who doesn’t look quite like us, who we think fits a certain “profile,” we keep ourselves awake with worry. They win when we switch train seats on the pretense of getting some sleep when in reality we hope the extra distance will be enough to shield us from the blast.
Sept. 11 has been called the darkest day in American history. But in the aftermath of that day’s unprecedented tragedies, we have seen time and again the best our country has to offer. As a nation, we have successfully risen to meet the many challenges of the past few months. As an individual, I still have some work to do.
