Hof
January 17th, 2007, 10:19 PM
I guess I was about seven,eight.
My Dad had brought me to New York with him and he gave me strict orders to stay in the hotel room while he went off to some important meeting.I had a few hours to kill,so I spent them watching Seventh Avenue go about its' business.
I remember looking almost straight down to Penn Station,watching all those yellow cars disappear into a big hole in the building.I didn't know what the place was,but to my 100-month old eyes,it seemed like everyone in this Town liked to go there,especially in a yellow car...
My curiosity overwhelmed me,so I did what all adventurous kids do when they find themselves in the position I was now in--I snuck out of the room,took the elevator to the street and walked amid huge crowds over to this imposing temple,and I went inside to see what was there.
What was there was the grandest thing I had ever seen.The ceiling soared so far above,the room was so impossibly huge,the noise and hustle of people going to a hundred different places was so mesmerizing.
It was more of everything--people,smells,things,movement,curiosities--that I had ever seen up until then.They had NOTHING like this in Rochester,of that I was certain.
The neverending line of yellow DeSotos would drive down a ramp,let people out,put fresh people in and drive away.Curious,I followed their trail and it led me back out of the great space I had just witnessed,and I was on the street again.
And I had no Earthly idea where I was.It was probably 8th Ave,but who knew???I looked around for the hotel and had no luck.Then I walked to God knows where and got as lost as possible.There were a million people,everywhere,but I didn't know anyone.Soon,I got scared,so I figured out what a cop looked like,then I asked him for help.
Somehow,he figured out that I belonged at the Hotel Pennsylvania,so he took me there,buying me ice cream on the way.He delivered me to the manager,a Personal Buddy of my Father's,and HE got me back into the room before Dad returned,probably saving his ass in the process.It was forever our secret.
I went back to the window and looked down twenty floors to the railroad station below.The yellow cabs were still pouring into the building.I knew they were called "cabs"--the cop told me.I also knew--sort of--what went on in there,inside that huge,noisy space under the big green roof.
After awhile,Dad came in and said because I was a good kid and stayed in the room all day,that we could do anything in New York that I wanted to do.He never saw the fresh ice cream stains on my shirt.
I pointed out our hotel window,down towards where all the cabs and people were.
"I want to go to Penn Station,Dad",I said,as we looked out the window of the Hotel Pennsylvania..."I want to see where the cabs go".And we went.
Now,January 7th,2007,Voronado announced that they are going to tear down this gross example of McKim,Meade and White's Hotel Opus Period and replace it with a two million square foot tower,complete with trading floor,whatever that means.It will be up and functioning "in about four years",they say.
Once,it was the Planet's Largest Hotel.Once,Guy Lombardo and Benny Goodman wowed the swells on it's rooftop lounge,their clairinet trills soaring over the crowded streets below.PENNSYLVANIA 6-5-0h,0h,0h.
Stanford White,the architect (who also designed Penn Station) got murdered because of it.
Once,a kid looked down on a strange and foreign City and from that height he figured out a piece of the New York puzzle,a puzzle he's still toying with.
I have stayed there probably a dozen times since,slowly filling the puzzle in...
I've seen it's New York gentility fade,it's marble and brass lobby grow tired and old.
The main grand staircase has marble steps as worn as the thousand-year-old steps at the Bridge of Sighs,and the brass on the columns has been polished to onionskin.The elevators belong in a vertical museum.
The condition of it's rooms is a whole 'nother post.It's time has passed.
Soon,it'll be a big hole,then a newcomer will arise on 7th Avenue,the steel and glass of the new absorbing the memories it is built upon.
Memories of Older NY,when the Penn was the place to be,right across from the Station,right next to 34th Street...Memories of the grand Roman Palace across the street;of a street that was always busy,clotted with cabs,especially around it's marquee canopy out front;of music now almost forgotten swinging over a New York that looks nothing like today.Memories of that newcomer,The Empire State Building,just down a skinny 33rd Street.
Memories of the dozens of seven year old kids whose first taste of the Big City was in a Penn Station that is no longer there,seen from a place soon to join it,The Hotel Pennsylvania.
My son and I have stayed there,twice.Glad we did that,no matter how ratty the room.
I going to try to get reservations there,just before they shut down hotel operations.It was probably the first big Town Hotel I ever stayed in,and it'll be a good shot of NY nostalgia--something I can tell my Grandkids about--if I stay in it just a few more nights,right before it becomes a part of Vanished New York...
My Dad had brought me to New York with him and he gave me strict orders to stay in the hotel room while he went off to some important meeting.I had a few hours to kill,so I spent them watching Seventh Avenue go about its' business.
I remember looking almost straight down to Penn Station,watching all those yellow cars disappear into a big hole in the building.I didn't know what the place was,but to my 100-month old eyes,it seemed like everyone in this Town liked to go there,especially in a yellow car...
My curiosity overwhelmed me,so I did what all adventurous kids do when they find themselves in the position I was now in--I snuck out of the room,took the elevator to the street and walked amid huge crowds over to this imposing temple,and I went inside to see what was there.
What was there was the grandest thing I had ever seen.The ceiling soared so far above,the room was so impossibly huge,the noise and hustle of people going to a hundred different places was so mesmerizing.
It was more of everything--people,smells,things,movement,curiosities--that I had ever seen up until then.They had NOTHING like this in Rochester,of that I was certain.
The neverending line of yellow DeSotos would drive down a ramp,let people out,put fresh people in and drive away.Curious,I followed their trail and it led me back out of the great space I had just witnessed,and I was on the street again.
And I had no Earthly idea where I was.It was probably 8th Ave,but who knew???I looked around for the hotel and had no luck.Then I walked to God knows where and got as lost as possible.There were a million people,everywhere,but I didn't know anyone.Soon,I got scared,so I figured out what a cop looked like,then I asked him for help.
Somehow,he figured out that I belonged at the Hotel Pennsylvania,so he took me there,buying me ice cream on the way.He delivered me to the manager,a Personal Buddy of my Father's,and HE got me back into the room before Dad returned,probably saving his ass in the process.It was forever our secret.
I went back to the window and looked down twenty floors to the railroad station below.The yellow cabs were still pouring into the building.I knew they were called "cabs"--the cop told me.I also knew--sort of--what went on in there,inside that huge,noisy space under the big green roof.
After awhile,Dad came in and said because I was a good kid and stayed in the room all day,that we could do anything in New York that I wanted to do.He never saw the fresh ice cream stains on my shirt.
I pointed out our hotel window,down towards where all the cabs and people were.
"I want to go to Penn Station,Dad",I said,as we looked out the window of the Hotel Pennsylvania..."I want to see where the cabs go".And we went.
Now,January 7th,2007,Voronado announced that they are going to tear down this gross example of McKim,Meade and White's Hotel Opus Period and replace it with a two million square foot tower,complete with trading floor,whatever that means.It will be up and functioning "in about four years",they say.
Once,it was the Planet's Largest Hotel.Once,Guy Lombardo and Benny Goodman wowed the swells on it's rooftop lounge,their clairinet trills soaring over the crowded streets below.PENNSYLVANIA 6-5-0h,0h,0h.
Stanford White,the architect (who also designed Penn Station) got murdered because of it.
Once,a kid looked down on a strange and foreign City and from that height he figured out a piece of the New York puzzle,a puzzle he's still toying with.
I have stayed there probably a dozen times since,slowly filling the puzzle in...
I've seen it's New York gentility fade,it's marble and brass lobby grow tired and old.
The main grand staircase has marble steps as worn as the thousand-year-old steps at the Bridge of Sighs,and the brass on the columns has been polished to onionskin.The elevators belong in a vertical museum.
The condition of it's rooms is a whole 'nother post.It's time has passed.
Soon,it'll be a big hole,then a newcomer will arise on 7th Avenue,the steel and glass of the new absorbing the memories it is built upon.
Memories of Older NY,when the Penn was the place to be,right across from the Station,right next to 34th Street...Memories of the grand Roman Palace across the street;of a street that was always busy,clotted with cabs,especially around it's marquee canopy out front;of music now almost forgotten swinging over a New York that looks nothing like today.Memories of that newcomer,The Empire State Building,just down a skinny 33rd Street.
Memories of the dozens of seven year old kids whose first taste of the Big City was in a Penn Station that is no longer there,seen from a place soon to join it,The Hotel Pennsylvania.
My son and I have stayed there,twice.Glad we did that,no matter how ratty the room.
I going to try to get reservations there,just before they shut down hotel operations.It was probably the first big Town Hotel I ever stayed in,and it'll be a good shot of NY nostalgia--something I can tell my Grandkids about--if I stay in it just a few more nights,right before it becomes a part of Vanished New York...