Every trade has a big bronze plaque in the lobby of the Empire State Building. Awesome! |
Nicola Tesla lived most of his life in New York
City. He began his career there, working first for Edison and later for
Westinghouse. He electrified the city when he built the hydro power
plant at Niagara Falls. And he lived out his final decade at the Hotel
New Yorker, at the corner of 8th Avenue and West 34th.
So
when I was offered what amounted to a time share sales trip, three days
at a manufacturer in rural Pennsylvania and a free morning in New York
City, I couldn't refuse. An all expense paid trip for my first visit to
the City? Yes, thanks.
What's
an engineer to do, all alone, on her first trip to New York? Look at
buildings, of course. Since I only had until 1:30, I checked out of the
hotel before dawn, left my bag with the bellhop, and headed out into the
empty streets of a Sunday morning. My hotel was near Penn Station, and
most of the "must see" buildings are in that neighborhood: luck!
I
took pictures of the dawn light hitting the Empire State Building, then
was first in line to visit the observation deck. What a great way to
start! The recorded audio-guide (well worth the $8) walked me around the
deck, pointing out landmarks and sharing snips of history. Did you know
the dock where the Titanic was meant to berth is now a driving range?
Look for the nets.
Winter sunrise. |
The
ESB historians have found the construction logs of the general
contractor, holding every detail of each day of the construction. Not
only have they published it (which, of course, I bought), they've also
blown up many of the photos, blueprints, schedules, and budgets to
poster size for the elevator queue. It’s like a museum exhibition of my
job!
My job, in part. Woo! The wild life! |
After
a Q/A session with a tense security guard (an engineer takes photos of
the same things a terrorist might), who I charmed into friendliness, I
returned to the street to find that the rest of the tourists had risen. I
wandered. I nosed around Grand Central Terminal (and sneaked down to a
platform), pondered the outside of the main Library while eating a
pretzel (closed until late, Sunday hours), lounged in Bryant Park to
watch the ice skaters, walked through Macy's to say I had (like Seattle,
but more crowded).
The Chrysler, hiding around the corner from the Library. |
Lunch
was planned ahead of time. I wanted to eat New York Food on this trip,
so breakfast was the aforementioned street pretzel (wrong neighborhood
for bagels dammit), and lunch was a giant open face Reuben at Sarge's
Deli. Despite being within walking distance of the tourist zones, and, I
suspect, in many of the guide books, Sarge's still manages to feel like
a neighborhood deli. It's a deep, narrow space that appears unchanged
since it opened in 1964, including the staff, and I think that's part of
the charm.
Wedgehead, our traveling buddy, at the ESB. |
Which brings us to one o'clock. But wait, where's Tesla? No worries...
Back
west, past the Polish Consulate, stopping in Tim Horton’s for a bounty
of TimBits for Jon, to Madison Square Garden and the Post Office, and
finally to 8th.
The
Hotel New Yorker has gone a bit shabby on the outside. Presidents,
movie stars, and geniuses have stayed here, but while they've renovated
the inside, the outside, with its grey bricks, well, it doesn't stand
out. Finding Tesla's memorial plaque on the outside wall involves
walking past a weird 50s-retro diner and standing on top of a pile of
tourists awaiting their charter bus.
There's no plaque for Kennedy or Hoover. Presidents don't rate with gods. |
But
the inside... I pushed through the revolving doors and stood on the
marble floor of the lobby, stunned and motionless at the idea that my
idol had walked on this same stone, seen these same ornaments, passed
each day through that hallway, slept every night 32 floors above. I
stood there several minutes, in the center of the lobby, until the
manager began to frown my way and I fled, hand lingering on that brass
door rail that Tesla might once have touched (but no, he was a
mysophobe, no door handles for him).
Room 3327 is available to reserve.
I did what you did at the Hotel New Yorker, except I did it at the Algonquin, home of the Round Table. I even stayed there once!
ReplyDeleteI had to look up the Round Table. That sounds like an awesome thing, and something that would be super fun to be involved in. That's cool that you stayed there in tribute :)
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