One reader-turned-G train spotter sent in this spooky eyewitness account. Names are withheld at her request, but her words are quoted directly in the interest of accuracy:
I was waiting on the Manhattan-bound platform of the R and V train at 46th Street and Broadway in Queens. It is technically the local track for the R, V, and G train, but having never seen a G train before I assumed it was some typographical error on the sign. It was roughly one-thirty in the morning on a chill October evening last year, I believe it was during regular weekday service, but it may have been early weekend. I had been at a party, and had a few drinks, but I was not drunk and had all of my senses about me.
I watched two R's and a V train pass on the Queens-bound track, and before long I began to hear the metallic strumming of an approaching train. I stood up from the subway bench to welcome an R or V train, or perhaps the odd local E or F that uses this track late at night and on some weekends, when I saw that the sign at the front of the train was colored an unusual green. I squinted to see what train it was--perhaps the color was really a faded blue, and this was a wayward E train--and as it loomed closer to my view I saw it was a mythical G train! I was standing at the front of the platform, and stood frozen in place as the train pulled into the station. Almost as if to taunt me, it stopped short at the middle of the platform, a full three normal car lengths away.
I couldn't believe my eyes. I thought perhaps I had fallen asleep on that platform bench and I was having some kind of nightmare. But as the doors opened up and people actually got off, I realized I was having a special kind of experienced that many people never do. I began to walk towards the train, preparing to get on the G train and see the fantastical places it would go, but due to my hesitance to begin, I didn't make it to the truncated train in time, and the doors closed before I even neared the solemn motorman. Before I could even register what was happening, the G train pulled out of the station and was gone.
I ran to the station clerk, desperate to have some kind of corroboration for this incredible event. I stammered, "I just saw a G train! I actually saw a real G train!" The clerk rolled her eyes lazily towards me, and without any expression whatsoever, pointed to a schedule advisory posted on the wall behind her: "NO G TRAIN SERVICE TO THIS STATION, Sept. 2006 - February 2007".
"No! I saw it! I saw the G train!" I asserted, "I don't care what that poster says, the G train just pulled into this station!"
The clerk looked at me, the slightest trace of disdain creeping on her otherwise emotionless pan, then shook her head slightly and went back to reading her newspaper. I looked around for someone to support my allegation, but there was no one. I was completely alone, doubting my own personal experience.
It reads like that old yarn about the guy who stayed in a remote inn, only to discover the next day that the inn burned down twenty years ago to the night. Did this person actually see a G train? Or was she the victim of her own late-night exhaustion? Without any evidence, it is impossible to say. I encourage all readers to submit their own personal experiences, pictures, videos, or other evidence about this elusive and mysterious subway line.
I was waiting on the Manhattan-bound platform of the R and V train at 46th Street and Broadway in Queens. It is technically the local track for the R, V, and G train, but having never seen a G train before I assumed it was some typographical error on the sign. It was roughly one-thirty in the morning on a chill October evening last year, I believe it was during regular weekday service, but it may have been early weekend. I had been at a party, and had a few drinks, but I was not drunk and had all of my senses about me.
I watched two R's and a V train pass on the Queens-bound track, and before long I began to hear the metallic strumming of an approaching train. I stood up from the subway bench to welcome an R or V train, or perhaps the odd local E or F that uses this track late at night and on some weekends, when I saw that the sign at the front of the train was colored an unusual green. I squinted to see what train it was--perhaps the color was really a faded blue, and this was a wayward E train--and as it loomed closer to my view I saw it was a mythical G train! I was standing at the front of the platform, and stood frozen in place as the train pulled into the station. Almost as if to taunt me, it stopped short at the middle of the platform, a full three normal car lengths away.
I couldn't believe my eyes. I thought perhaps I had fallen asleep on that platform bench and I was having some kind of nightmare. But as the doors opened up and people actually got off, I realized I was having a special kind of experienced that many people never do. I began to walk towards the train, preparing to get on the G train and see the fantastical places it would go, but due to my hesitance to begin, I didn't make it to the truncated train in time, and the doors closed before I even neared the solemn motorman. Before I could even register what was happening, the G train pulled out of the station and was gone.
I ran to the station clerk, desperate to have some kind of corroboration for this incredible event. I stammered, "I just saw a G train! I actually saw a real G train!" The clerk rolled her eyes lazily towards me, and without any expression whatsoever, pointed to a schedule advisory posted on the wall behind her: "NO G TRAIN SERVICE TO THIS STATION, Sept. 2006 - February 2007".
"No! I saw it! I saw the G train!" I asserted, "I don't care what that poster says, the G train just pulled into this station!"
The clerk looked at me, the slightest trace of disdain creeping on her otherwise emotionless pan, then shook her head slightly and went back to reading her newspaper. I looked around for someone to support my allegation, but there was no one. I was completely alone, doubting my own personal experience.
It reads like that old yarn about the guy who stayed in a remote inn, only to discover the next day that the inn burned down twenty years ago to the night. Did this person actually see a G train? Or was she the victim of her own late-night exhaustion? Without any evidence, it is impossible to say. I encourage all readers to submit their own personal experiences, pictures, videos, or other evidence about this elusive and mysterious subway line.
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