An official explanation for one odor leaves Brooklyn commuters with an estimated forty others still unaccounted for
L Train Smell Explained by MTA as Brooklyn Requests the Full List
NEW YORK – There are smells that New Yorkers accept as part of the subway, and then there was the one on the L. A local news archive on the transit agency records that the MTA said it had finally identified the cause of a sickening smell in L train subway stations, after an odor of diesel prompted a suspension of service between Brooklyn and Manhattan. Riders welcomed the diagnosis and immediately asked the obvious follow-up: which smell?
“They said they found the source of the smell,” said Tobias Friedlander, a sound engineer waiting at Bedford Avenue. “I said, the smell? Singular? I counted six between the stairs and here. There is a sweet one by the turnstile. There is a warm one near the bench that I think is electrical, or soup. There is one at the east end of the platform that I can only describe as a decision somebody made. If they have solved one, great. Which one. I need them to be specific.”
A Taxonomy
The North Brooklyn Olfactory Survey, a volunteer project run by former perfume-counter employees, has been cataloguing the line’s atmosphere since the incident. Its field guide identifies the most common notes between Eighth Avenue and Canarsie:
- Brake dust: metallic, front of the palate, constant
- Wet concrete: earthy, strongest after rain and also before it
- Mystery warmth: comes from a grate, nobody stands on it twice
- Someone’s lunch: usually fish, always 8:40 a.m.
- Vape cloud: mango, drifting from a man who is “between cigarettes”
- The Unknown: seasonal, moves between stations, has a following
Survey director Giselle Marchetti said the diesel episode stood out because it was, for once, identifiable. “Usually a subway smell is a blend,” she said. “You cannot pick out the components. This one had a clear top note. We almost respected it.”
The Official Response
The agency’s handling was by its standards swift. Crews investigated, service was halted, and a cause was named. Riders note this is more attention than most odors receive. The subway has become what one civic journal called the city’s biggest stage, a political and cultural flashpoint, and a bad smell on the line that serves Williamsburg was always going to draw a crowd, several of whom reviewed it online.
Williamsburg Reacts
The neighborhood’s response was characteristic. A candle shop on Grand Street released a limited edition called “Service Change,” with notes of diesel, ozone and regret, which sold out in a weekend. A natural wine bar described a new orange varietal as “L train on the nose, but in a good way.” A man on Driggs Avenue claimed he had smelled it before it was mainstream.
A survey of 500 L riders found that 82 percent noticed the odor, 61 percent assumed it was normal, and 27 percent only learned something was wrong when the trains stopped. Fourteen percent said they missed it. “At least you knew where you were,” one respondent wrote. “Now it just smells like everywhere.”
Health Concerns, Taken Seriously
Some riders reported headaches and nausea during the episode, and officials treated those complaints as real. Marchetti said that is the part worth remembering. “We joke, but people work down there eight hours a day,” she said. “Station agents, cleaners, the guy who sells churros. When they say the air is bad, that is not a lifestyle observation. That is a shift.”
Requests for Further Investigation
Encouraged by the agency’s success, riders on other lines have filed their own inquiries. The Survey has received requests to identify a sour note at Chambers Street, a “burnt toast situation” on the G, and something at 34th Street that multiple witnesses describe only by backing away. A petition asks for the same task force to look into Penn Station, though signatories admit that may be a question for a higher authority.
The Smell Returns, Possibly
On Thursday evening a faint chemical trace was reported at Lorimer. Twenty people looked up from their phones at once. It turned out to be a woman opening nail polish. The platform relaxed. Friedlander said the moment of shared alarm was “the closest this train has come to community.”
The Churro Vendor’s Testimony
The woman who sells churros at the foot of the stairs was among the first to notice. She has worked the station for nine years and says she can tell the time by what the platform smells like. “Morning is coffee and perfume. Afternoon is metal. Night is beer,” she said. “That day it was a gas station. I said to my customer, this is not one of ours.” She kept selling. Business, she reported, was steady, since the cinnamon was the only pleasant thing within two hundred feet.
London’s Central Line Says Hello
The story was read with recognition in the United Kingdom, where deep-level tunnels have their own bouquet. The London Prat’s UK satirical news on mysterious smells rated the Central line in August as “a wool jumper worn by a kettle.” Its British satirical news investigations team has been trying to identify one odor at Bank since 1994 and believes it may be the building.
The L is running normally. The diesel is gone. The other forty remain, loyal as ever, waiting on the platform with everyone else. Bohiney Magazine took one deep breath at First Avenue for the purposes of this report and will not be taking another.
SOURCE: https://bohiney.com/