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A long, cold, dark day

BY DIANE DAVIS | STAFF WRITER

December 21, 2005

They rose before dawn, hearing news that finally, the transit strike was on: Walk, ride, bike, skate, stay home. But prepare for what could be the first of many long, grim days.

It was not the hot summer morning after a surprisingly pleasant blackout, when subways were down and commuters had a chance to recover from their barbecues and parties.

It was not the strike of 1980, when a grinning mayor cheered the citizenry from the bridges in the middle of a warm spring.

Instead it was a cold December day -- almost the shortest and darkest of the year -- falling during the hectic pre-holiday rush.

Sure, strangers joked and jostled as they shared carpools. The fit and chubby alike good-naturedly hiked across bridges they had previously seen only from cars. Kind-hearted bosses excused telecommuters and those who worked four-hour days.

But the mayor grimaced and berated the transit union. The two opposing sides battled in court instead of talking at a negotiation table. By nightfall, the union appeared to out $1 million, and the city millions of dollars poorer.

Still, no word came that today would be much different. There was just the promise of more clamor and chaos on crammed streets, only to give way to deep, sad silence in the subway tunnels below.

New Yorkers went to sleep not as they had the night before, wondering if the city's next day would be difficult, but knowing it.

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A long, cold, dark day

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