Sounds were muffled and streetlights were dim, fuzzy halos hovering overhead. Traffic came to a virtual stop unless it ran on rails, so tram-cars, the subway and the suburban trains all kept going. The big problem was to find one's way to and from wherever that going might be. When you found your way home at last and looked in a mirror, your face and clothes were covered in coal-black smuts and your nostrils were ringed with soot. This was thought by some people to be conducive to good health despite the endemic chest disease in the community.
Foggy events tend to stick in the memory.
I was never stalked by a prowler, or if I was the fog prevented me from seeing him, so I have never associated fogginess with menace. Even those fog-bound horror films failed to arouse any sense of apprehension. I was trying to find my way back to the hospital after a very foggy evening off. The subway took me to within a couple of kilometres of my destination and there was a bus terminus beside the station. To my considerable surprise, a faintly-discernible bus was standing there.