Some memories and random facts.
It’s called Grand Central Terminal because it’s a terminus
for commuter rail lines. However, it was preceded by a train depot, in the same
location, that was referred to as “Station.”
To clarify, the building referred to as Grand Central is a terminal. The subways that stop underneath that building are stopping at a station.
In 1913, when Grand Central Terminal opened, elevated lines and trolleys were more prevalent than the network of underground transportation we are familiar with today.
The famed astronomical ceiling in the main concourse is backwards. It is unclear, to me, at least, if that’s because it was intended to show the heavens, as they would appear to God, looking down from above, or if that was the justification for a workmen’s accident.
Grand Central would have gone the way of the Old Pennsylvania Station if not for the tireless efforts of a coalition of New Yorkers, including Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis and Ed Koch.
Grand Central was designed with enormous windows that allowed sunlight to stream into both the waiting room and the main concourse, as in this famous picture. For years, during its decline and before its reprieve, added walkways and corridors blocked the expansive light.
Sometime in the 1980s, I worked for the architectural firm responsible for the restoration of Grand Central to its former glory. Sadly, I saw more specs related to public restrooms than anything, although I remember being excited when I read about how some areas would be opened up to the grand windows, for the first time in my lifetime.
Later, during restoration, workers would leave the doors open to the catwalks, which are located between the internal and external glass in the windows flanking the main concourse. I loved to go up there and just watch the people below; once, I even had . . . a romantic experience. A few years later, but before the heightened security of the post 9/11 world, I wanted to take an old friend and his kids to visit the catwalk. The door was locked, but yielded easily to the application of a penknife. You couldn’t do that now.
Another thing renovated during the restoration was the Campbell Apartment. Originally a pied a terre, it had passed to the city and was being used by the NYPD before reverting to its former glory. It's now a bar, and you can go and order a Manhattan. I should warn you that there's a dress code; one one evening, a sneaker-wearing friend was turned away (she changed back into her heels) but my hat, which had little leopard ears, was deemed acceptable.
After my mother died, I inherited all of her old watches and took them to a tiny little storefront in Grand Central, where they were all cleaned and repaired.
After my mother died, I’d go and sit on the steps leading down to the main concourse. Despite the crowds, I found it very peaceful.
I have eaten at some of the best restaurants in the city, but nothing gives me more pleasure than the Oyster Bar on the lower level at Grand Central. Among my favorites are oyster pan roast, and when in season, shad with shad roe, and bluefish. Oh, oysters, of course. I’ve eaten more than two dozen at a single sitting.
Much has been written about Grand Central, both fact and fiction, but for me, nothing beats “The Third Level,” a short story by Jack Finney. You can read it here.
To clarify, the building referred to as Grand Central is a terminal. The subways that stop underneath that building are stopping at a station.
In 1913, when Grand Central Terminal opened, elevated lines and trolleys were more prevalent than the network of underground transportation we are familiar with today.
The famed astronomical ceiling in the main concourse is backwards. It is unclear, to me, at least, if that’s because it was intended to show the heavens, as they would appear to God, looking down from above, or if that was the justification for a workmen’s accident.
Grand Central would have gone the way of the Old Pennsylvania Station if not for the tireless efforts of a coalition of New Yorkers, including Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis and Ed Koch.
Grand Central was designed with enormous windows that allowed sunlight to stream into both the waiting room and the main concourse, as in this famous picture. For years, during its decline and before its reprieve, added walkways and corridors blocked the expansive light.
Sometime in the 1980s, I worked for the architectural firm responsible for the restoration of Grand Central to its former glory. Sadly, I saw more specs related to public restrooms than anything, although I remember being excited when I read about how some areas would be opened up to the grand windows, for the first time in my lifetime.
Later, during restoration, workers would leave the doors open to the catwalks, which are located between the internal and external glass in the windows flanking the main concourse. I loved to go up there and just watch the people below; once, I even had . . . a romantic experience. A few years later, but before the heightened security of the post 9/11 world, I wanted to take an old friend and his kids to visit the catwalk. The door was locked, but yielded easily to the application of a penknife. You couldn’t do that now.
Another thing renovated during the restoration was the Campbell Apartment. Originally a pied a terre, it had passed to the city and was being used by the NYPD before reverting to its former glory. It's now a bar, and you can go and order a Manhattan. I should warn you that there's a dress code; one one evening, a sneaker-wearing friend was turned away (she changed back into her heels) but my hat, which had little leopard ears, was deemed acceptable.
After my mother died, I inherited all of her old watches and took them to a tiny little storefront in Grand Central, where they were all cleaned and repaired.
After my mother died, I’d go and sit on the steps leading down to the main concourse. Despite the crowds, I found it very peaceful.
I have eaten at some of the best restaurants in the city, but nothing gives me more pleasure than the Oyster Bar on the lower level at Grand Central. Among my favorites are oyster pan roast, and when in season, shad with shad roe, and bluefish. Oh, oysters, of course. I’ve eaten more than two dozen at a single sitting.
Much has been written about Grand Central, both fact and fiction, but for me, nothing beats “The Third Level,” a short story by Jack Finney. You can read it here.
Sometimes, it’s easy to miss visiting famous places. If
you’re a sophisticated traveler, you might assume that such places are crowded
and over-hyped. If you’re from a place, you might assume that such places are
crowded, over-hyped and under-hip. Nothing could be further from the truth
about Grand Central Terminal. Go. Visit. It’s worth the schlep.
