The MTA didn’t want us there, in fact we didn’t even ask for their permission, but somehow we found ourselves 60 feet underground and choking on the dust left from a dynamite explosion that took place just minutes prior to our descent. Clad in water resistant boots, safety goggles and a bright green hardhat The Observer was ankle deep in mud at an undisclosed location somewhere along the sight of the 2nd Avenue subway construction.
After zipping down a painfully frightening metal cage of an elevator and awkwardly hoisting ourselves up a slippery ladder onto a pile of sludge we finally got a chance to catch our breath and get our bearings. The view was insane. The cavernous walls were vast, and mounds of muddy hills sprawled like waves. First things first, “Can I take a picture?”
The 30-year veteran sandhog with a tangled wiry gray beard, who had volunteered to take us underground, encouraged us to do so. But one stipulation, “Just don’t put those up on your YouTube,” he said. Read More