My son was just about to leave for school. There was still one thing left to be done.

"Where are the those ties?" he asked.

I showed him the bag of ties his grandfather had given him on Rosh Hashanah. Carefully selected from his own tasteful collection, my father was passing the torch to his beloved grandson. There were even some fun ones in there: a cricket-themed tie; a horse racing one.

As my husband was tying my son’s tie, the sedate red one he’d selected, I remembered that security in and around the city’s transit network was sharply increased Thursday after city officials said they had been notified by federal authorities in Washington of a terrorist threat that for the first time specified the city’s transit system.

I’d listened to Mayor Bloomberg’s press conference on WNYC. He said that he’d be riding the subway this morning as usual. I was relieved that I no longer took a subway to work, my husband works at home and my daughter goes to school around the corner…

But my son. My son takes the R train to Bay Ridge to attend his new high school. I decided to tell him what was going on.

"I don’t want to alarm you but–" I said
"There’s a bomb threat in the subways," he interupted.
"Do you want to take a car service," I said considering taking him to school myself.
"Not really." he said
"And you don’t have your cell phone,"
"I don’t think it’s going to matter if I have a cell phone if the train blows up." he said.

My son seemed, outwardly at least, non-plussed by the situation. He loves the subway; it spells freedom and independence. Cherishing his student MetroCard, he is a true citizen of New York now,

"Besides, I don’t think they’ll bomb the R-train, Mom," he said in that dismissive tone teenagers use.

I felt helpless and morbid. I couldn’t bear the thought of… I put it out of my mind and kissed him good bye. I have to tiptoe now to give him a peck on the cheek. He stoops down to hug me.

I hated that he had to take the subway in these terrible times. I longed for the carefree days of my  youth when the subways were just dirty, hot, and dangerous.  All we had to worry about was getting mugged. Now the crime rate is down, but we’re under terrorist threat.

"He’s going to be fine," my husband said. He gave our son a hug and sent him on his way. It’s 10:30 now. He’s safely at school. I hope. Nothing happened.

Not yet anyway.