Stockholm Syndrome

For the last couple of days, the streets under the 7 train in Queens have been eerily silent, and residents and shop owners are disoriented:

For nearly 90 years, life along Roosevelt Avenue has been pre-empted every few minutes by a sustained interruption of train clatter, as the elevated No. 7 train rumbles overhead. The 20-second interjection is loud enough to banish thought itself. It halts conversations and forces newcomers to hold their ears.

But since the trains stopped on Tuesday, the hammer of the gods has suddenly stopped, too. People who live and work along the avenue seemed slightly disoriented yesterday. The decibel level that has defined life there, as well as at other places in Queens, Brooklyn and the Bronx — is conspicuously absent.

“It’s strange, but the silence is more noticeable than the noise,” said City Councilman Eric N. Gioia, who represents Woodside, Queens, and grew up under the El. “When you spend your life hearing the screech of steel wheels over your head every two minutes, you almost forget what quiet is.”

. . .

Mahmud Hossain, 31, a Bengali immigrant who owns the New York Deli and Grocery at Roosevelt Avenue and 76th Street, said life on the avenue had always been about “the big noise.” For the past seven years, Mr. Hossain said, he has worked at his counter 12 hours a day, separated from the El outside by a pane of glass. Since he lives in an apartment building on the avenue, he also hears the train all night, he said.

He and his wife have a relationship based upon intermittent conversations. “When we talk to each other, part of every conversation is saying, ‘Hold on a second,'” he said.

“It’s funny to say,” he added, “but the silence is driving me crazy.”

Amazingly, some residents seem to miss the noise, a sort of 7 Train Stockholm Syndrome:

While many residents embraced the relative silence, others seemed bewildered by it, and, after only two days, even began waxing nostalgic for it.

“I actually miss the noise already,” said Cristina Fletcher, 33, a Filipino immigrant who for the past five years has lived in a building in Woodside, a half-block from Roosevelt Avenue. “You get used to it. It’s part of life here, the sound of the city. It’s strange to actually be able to walk down Roosevelt Avenue and talk on your cellphone.

“Living here is like having the subway running through your living room,” she said, “and now it’s turned off.”