As we complete our journey along the abandoned Upper Harlem Division, it is worth taking a moment to look at the timetables printed for the line. The Upper Harlem’s timetables were New York Central’s Form 112 – and its size changed drastically over the years, reflecting the railroad’s slow death.

The ever changing timetable design for the Upper Harlem^[1]

A 1909 timetable, which was actually a foldout booklet that contained descriptions of the stations and schedules for connecting railroads, was actually 32 pages. The tall size seen in a later 1939 timetable was standard for many years, and it featured the additional trains offered beyond Chatham to Pittsfield and North Adams. Many changes came in the 1950′s – timetables got smaller when the North Adams service was cancelled, and by 1953 the four panel foldout was reduced to three panels. By the time the Upper Harlem Division’s passenger service was cancelled in 1972, the line timetable was just a double sided card, reflecting the only two trains that operated on the line every week day.

Moving on, we continue our tour north of Hillsdale, heading towards Craryville. For much of its route, the Harlem Division follows New York State Route 22 northward, but after arriving at Hillsdale the route turns in a westward direction to follow Route 23.

When the Harlem Railroad was established through Columbia County, the station here went by the name of Bains, for hotel owner Peter Bain. When the land was purchased by Peter Crary, the station became known by a new name – Craryville. Gail Borden, who constructed his first successful milk factory along the Harlem in Wassaic, also had a processing plant here in Craryville. This was one of many plants located along the line, and used it for freight.^[2]

Craryville Today

Craryville is a relatively quiet area, with little reminder of the railroad beyond a barely paved Railroad Lane. The old station house still exists, but is privately owned.

Harlem Division engineer Vic Westman was quite the talented artist, creating many drawings and even paintings of the rails he worked, sometimes just from memory. For many years he even had a small studio on the sixth floor of Grand Central Terminal in which to work during his long swing time.^[3]

The name Martindale derives from John Martin, on whose land the original Martindale station was built upon. It was never an extremely prominent station, and by 1946 it was just a mere flag stop on the line. Martindale met its end years before the rest of the line, and was eliminated in 1949. The station building itself was dismantled by a railroad employee in that year.

Martindale Today

South of where Martindale station was lies an overpass where the railroad traversed over Route 23. Little else in the area reflects the area’s railroading past. In fact, little even bears the name Martindale besides the Martindale Chief diner, located next to the Taconic.

About 119 miles from Grand Central is the station of Philmont. Philmont was historically one of the larger communities that that the Harlem ran through, and was rich with industry. Several mills were located in the town, and they of course used the railroad for freight.^[4]

Philmont Today

Besides Railroad Avenue, and the former railroad hotel located upon it, it is hard to tell that a railroad once crossed Main Street here in Philmont. The Empire House, the aforementioned railroad hotel, lacks the porches it had in historical images and may be a bit beat up, but it is one reference to the railroad that ran through town.

The Arch Bridge

Leaving Philmont, about three miles north of the station, but in the town of Ghent, lies a street named Arch Bridge Road. The eponymous arch is a single lane underpass, with the railroad’s former ROW running above. Running along the side of the arch is a small stream where, at some point over the years, some of the railroad’s roadbed washed out. It is a nice vestige of the railroad in Ghent, and most certainly an old one.

Just under 125 miles from Grand Central lies the second to last station on the Harlem – Ghent. The station itself was shared with a short branch of the Boston and Albany. The railroad crossed over New York State Route 66 just south of the station.

Ghent Today

Splitting off from Route 66 at the center of Ghent is Railroad Avenue, which still exists today, although with no railroad to be seen. Appearing in many historical photos of the station is the Bartlett House, which was a railroad hotel, and still stands today.

The end of the Harlem Division, just a bit more than 127 miles from Grand Central Terminal, is in Chatham, New York. The Harlem met with the Boston and Albany and the Rutland Railroad here, and the former two shared a quite beautiful Union Station. Stylistically, the station’s Richardsonian Romanesque aesthetic matches more to the Boston and Albany than it does to the Harlem, but it is attractive nonetheless. Built in 1887, Chatham station was designed by Shepley, Rutan and Coolidge, the successors to famed American architect Henry Hobson Richardson.

The New York and Harlem Railroad always seemed to be a modest affair. Some railroads chose grandiose names for themselves, dreaming of the locations that they would one day reach (and often fell short of – the New York, Boston and Montreal Railway comes to mind), but when it was chartered in 1831, the Harlem only planned to be a link from the core of New York City to Harlem just a bit further north. The original plan was to connect with the New York and Albany Railroad at Harlem – except that railroad was never completed. In their absence, the Harlem was granted the right by the state legislature to build into Westchester in 1840, and all the way to Albany in 1846. Despite that right, the Harlem gradually extended north, and instead chose Chatham to be its terminus. From there, riders could easily continue to Albany on the B&A, and some of the earliest timetables show the trains on this additional route.

Chatham Today

For over a hundred years the railroad has been an important part of Chatham’s identity. Though both the Rutland and the Harlem are gone, the Boston and Albany’s former line still runs through Chatham, owned by CSX. The trains may run through, but they don’t really stop here – though the town seems to firmly hold onto their railroad identity. A fence has been put up to separate the former Union Station from the remaining tracks, which somewhat mars the attractive vista of yesteryear. The building had significantly fallen into disrepair by the ’60s, but it has been restored to glory and is the home to a branch of the Kinderhook Bank.

The very end of the Harlem’s tracks still exists, and extends around a half mile south, where they abruptly end in front of a gas station. The mile marker for mile 127 – the end of the Harlem – has been saved and transplanted to a garden in front of the Chatham firehouse.

Then and Now

As we’ve seen on our tour of the former stations of the Upper Harlem Division, many of the locales have changed drastically over the 41 years that passenger service has been absent. But two towns along the route provide an interesting look back and allow us to compare today and yesterday. Both Philmont and Ghent had railroad hotels that were established close to the tracks. Because of that proximity to the rails, the buildings appear in many old photos – which makes a comparison especially moving. The two hotels may have come to town because of the trains, but they managed to outlive the demise of the Harlem itself.

Philmont’s Empire House was built sometime in the 1880′s, and also included an Opera House. After the hotel was long gone, the building was converted to serve as a textile manufacturing facility. At some point in the ’60s Philmont’s American Legion purchased the building. They added a 30 foot by 70 foot section to the building, which included a kitchen. Due to the post’s declining membership, the members voted to put the building on the market in 2009.

Though the main structure of the building is similar to the above historical view, the original porches are gone from the building. The addition made by the American Legion is also apparent to the left of the building. The building itself gives us a point in which to gather our bearings, and highlights the absence of the railroad, and the old rail depot.

Ghent’s Bartlett House was likewise a railroad hotel, built in the 1870′s, and recently nominated for the National Register of Historic Places. The hotel hosted teachers, traveling salesmen, and plenty of other rail passengers – it was even captured by the lens of famed photographer Walker Evans. Besides the hotel, the building contained a dining room and a ballroom, occasionally the site for brawling politicians. Though part of the building is blocked by the train in our historical photo, the Bartlett House looks very much as it did when first built – in 2011 the front porch was redone based upon historical photos.

That pretty much wraps up our tour of the Upper Harlem Division’s stations. Many of the physical stations may be gone, but there is surprisingly quite a bit that can be found that reminds us that there was a real railroad that once ran through here. In fact, much of the former route can be seen visually from satellite maps – there is an obvious swath of barren land that marked where the rails once were. That, of course, may one day fade. But if the Harlem Valley Rail Trail Association has their way, the entire route of the former Upper Harlem Division will at least be preserved as a trail, which I suppose is better than being forgotten entirely.

1. All timetables from the author’s collection [↩]
2. Postcards from Craryville from the author’s collection [↩]
3. Sketch of Martindale by Vic Westman for Lou Grogan’s book. [↩]
4. Postcard of Philmont at left from the collection of Steve Swirsky. Postcard at right from the author’s collection [↩]

Fare increases are in inevitable but depressing reality when it comes to riding the train. Starting March, Metro-North has unfortunately had to raise fares yet again. This, of course, has happened many times throughout history. In 1951 the New York Central distributed a brochure to Harlem and Hudson commuters regarding an upcoming fare increase, which I’d like to share with you… complete with an anthropomorphized sad train. Sad train is sad :(

For the past several months I’ve been taking you to some of the more interesting places throughout Grand Central, past and present. In such a big building, especially one that has been around for a century, there are certainly tons of places to explore. In fact, we even learn new things about Grand Central all the time! But despite every place I’ve learned about, or seen first hand, I do have one particular favorite place in Grand Central. And that would be the “clock tower”…

Grand Central, minus the statuary group

First, a little history. Do you notice something missing from the above photograph? Grand Central’s façade does not look quite as glamorous in that photo as it does today. There’s one major reason for that – the massive clock and statuary group designed by Jules Coutan had not yet been installed! What was touted as the world’s largest statuary group, weighing 1,500 tons, did not grace the front of the Terminal until the second half of 1914 – over a year after Grand Central officially opened. Carved in pieces by Donnelly and Ricci in the Long Island City yards of William Bradley and Sons, the group was put together atop the Terminal. Even in pieces, the statues were immense – Minerva’s head alone was said to weigh fourteen tons, and Mercury’s headpiece around ten tons.

The quarter sized model of the statuary group by Jules Coutan, featured on a postcard. From the collection of Steve Swirsky.

I’ve written about Jules Coutan before, but the main thing to note is that while he designed the group on the front of the building, he didn’t actually carve it. Chosen by Whitney Warren over several American sculptors (which many were quite unhappy about), Coutan created a quarter size model of the statuary group. He never even saw the completed work in real life, or for that matter, set foot in the United States. In a New York Times interview, Coutan stated that he had no desire to see the US, and states that “I fear that the sight of some of your architecture would distress me.”

  
 
 
Various photos of the statuary group being carved in Long Island City, including a few with people to show scale.

While working on the sculpture, Coutan noted:

The group, of course, will be heroic in scale… will stand forth boldly… [and] combine the classical and symbolical… The difficulty of the problem which I have before me is to give the vitality of the present to a symbolism that is consecrated by centuries of literature and art and philosophy.

A photo of the statuary group being assembled atop Grand Central in July of 1914. Note the people standing just above Mercury’s head.

Featuring three gods of Roman myth – Mercury, Minerva, and Hercules – the group is called “Transportation,” and was described by Whitney Warren as such:

The architectural composition consists of three great portals crowned by a sculptural group, the whole to stand as a monument to the glory of commerce as typified by Mercury, supported by moral and mental energy – Hercules and Minerva. All to attest that this great enterprise has grown and exists not merely from the wealth expended, nor by the revenue derived, but by the brain and brawn constantly concentrated upon its development for nearly a century.

The statuary group today.

The other important part of the front façade, and nestled right in the center of the statuary group, is the large clock made of Tiffany glass. With a circumference of 13 feet, when installed this was the largest piece of Tiffany glass in the world. There is, however, a little secret regarding this clock – the circle surrounding the roman numeral six is actually a window.

The number six opens inward, revealing an interesting view of the street below Grand Central.

Hey, it’s Heather from the “wildly popular train enthusiast blog” I Haz a Choo Choo Train Problem! Note how the window opens to reveal the street below.

Of all the places I’ve been to or seen in Grand Central, I really do love the clock tower. There is just something really cool about being able to see the opposite side of the massive clock face, and the gears inside that make it work. Being able to look out through the window that most people just know as the number six is also pretty amazing.

One of the ladders to the clock tower.

As shown above, getting into the clock tower isn’t easy. There are several dark ladders you need to climb to get up there, including several obstructions you need to duck under. But once you’ve reached the top, the view is totally worth it.

If you enjoyed our previous set of Farm Security Administration photos, no doubt you will enjoy the ones today, possibly even more so. Captured by Marjorie Collins, another one of the lesser-known FSA photographers, today’s set of photos features New York’s Pennsylvania Station. Taken about a year after the photos we saw last week (these date to August 1942), the war is in full swing, and the station is filled with soldiers. As was the FSA’s goal, these images artfully capture what life was like in the 1940′s.

Now I’m not the biggest fan of the Pennsy, and I don’t frequently post things about Penn Station, but I think this set of photos was too amazing to pass up. We may be celebrating the centennial of Grand Central Terminal, but I think it is also a perfect time to reflect about New York’s other great “temple of transportation,” and its greater significance in terms of historical preservation.

New York’s Pennsylvania Station, built 1910, demolished 1963.

Grand Central Terminal was still in construction when the Pennsylvania Railroad opened their great station in 1910. Designed by the famous McKim, Mead, and White, the two stations shared a Beaux Arts aesthetic. Both were exquisite New York monuments, and they almost shared the same fate – the wrecking ball. With the decline in rail travel both the New York Central and the Pennsylvania Railroads were strapped for cash and looking to make a buck anywhere they could. With the significant costs to maintain such large stations, the buildings were worth more to them as real estate. In 1963 the gorgeous Penn Station was demolished in order to build Madison Square Garden above.

Is it not cruel to let our city die by degrees, stripped of all her proud monuments, until there will be nothing left of all her history and beauty to inspire our children? If they are not inspired by the past of our city, where will they find the strength to fight for her future? Americans care about their past, but for short term gain they ignore it and tear down everything that matters. Maybe this is the time to take a stand, to reverse the tide, so that we won’t all end up in a uniform world of steel and glass boxes.

–Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, the high-profile face of historic preservation in New York City.

I am firmly of the belief that New York could not have two great railroad stations – for it was the destruction of Pennsylvania Station that motivated people to protect the city’s historical landmarks. In 1965, two years after Penn Station’s destruction, New York’s Landmark Preservation Commission was established. Grand Central was declared a landmark, and the New York Central, and later the Penn Central, were not permitted to destroy it – a fight the railroad took all the way up to the Supreme Court. If not for the destruction of Penn Station, it is very possible that we would not be celebrating the centennial of Grand Central right now. So thanks, Penn Station, we shall not forget you.

Every evening, steady streams of people race into Grand Central to get on a train and head home. They look up at the departure board, scouring it for their train, and then make their way to that track. As any astute commuter knows, Grand Central’s gates are made up of two and three digit numbers – double digits signify upper-level tracks, and triple digits for lower-level tracks. But what if I told you this wasn’t always the case – that the lower level once had single digit numbers? You probably wouldn’t believe me…

The photo that started the “mystery.” This photo from the collection of the New York Public Library shows track gates 8 and 7 in Grand Central Terminal – on the lower level of the Terminal.

If you don’t believe me right now, I don’t blame you. At first I didn’t believe it either. Plenty of books and articles have been written about Grand Central. Not one that I’ve found mentions the train gates ever getting renumbered. How could something major like this have happened in such a famous building, and yet, nobody knows about it? But as you’ll see in this post, there is overwhelming evidence that the track numbers on the lower level have been changed. In fact, you can see it with your own eyes!

Though near impossible to take a decent photo, the marks from the previous numbering are visible if you look close enough. Next time you’re in the lower level, take a look. You will see the same “Entrance to Track 8 / Track 7″ as visible in the above photo.

The mystery began when I was collecting images for my Grand Central 100 for 100 project, and I found the top photo at the NYPL. It fueled my curiosity because it absolutely made no sense. Today there are no gates numbered 7 and 8. If they did exist, where did they go? But after looking at the photo long enough, it started to become obvious that this couldn’t be the upper level. The low ceiling and light fixtures bear an uncanny resemblance to the lower level. Not to mention the two trains listed on the departure board are for suburban trains, which always left from the lower level in this time period.

Compare the above photo with this one – a dead ringer – minus all the snack stands and junk that have appeared through the years. At some point in history tracks 7 and 8 were changed to 107 and 108.

Delving into various archives, my goal was to find other photos of the lower level with the alternate gate numbers to make a convincing case. Though the first image is nice, there is little visual information to definitively prove that it is the lower level. In fact, after showing a few people just this photo, they vehemently denied that this could even possibly be the lower level of the Terminal. Unfortunately for them, they are totally wrong. Though it wasn’t easy, I found a few more photos, a postcard, even a newspaper story showing the lower level with numbers different then the ones they have currently. Thus it is irrefutable that at some point in Grand Central’s history, a renumbering of gates occurred. Though it is possible that the numbers on lower level track diagrams have always had three digit numbers, the numbers presented to the public ridership have changed.

Much thanks to Carey Stumm, archivist at the New York Transit Museum, who found this undated photo in the museum’s collection.

Compare the above with a more current view. Tracks 11 and 12 are now 111 and 112.

Although hard to make out, the gates on the right side are 6 and 5. Also note the lower-level information booth visible on the left side.

Today the lower level is significantly more filled with “stuff” than it was before, but this shot resembles the one above.

After we come to the conclusion that the lower level had single digit track numbers at one point in history, the logical next question is when and why did the gate numbers change? That is something I’ve been unable to figure out – hence the mystery of the suburban concourse! I came up with a theory, which I totally admit could be quite wrong, nonetheless I think it gets the ball rolling for us to solve this puzzle…

Theory: Grand Central once had a system of perfectly numbered tracks, consecutive from 1 to 42, across the upper and lower levels. When new tracks were added for passenger use, it disrupted this “perfect” numbering scheme.

If you’re not familiar with the current gate numbering in the Terminal, the relatively confusing arrangement is as so: tracks 11 through 42 on the upper level, tracks 100 through 117 on the lower level, and tracks 102A and 103A randomly thrown in for good measure, also on the lower level.

Tracks 102A and 103A randomly thrown in for good measure

Why use a numbering scheme like that, though? From a customer service perspective, wouldn’t it make more sense to start with Track 1 and work your way up? After all, every minor detail of the Terminal’s design was agonized and deliberate – from the proper letter spacing on signs for ease of readability, to the perfect grade of ramp for walking (no joke, the engineers built several ramps in the old station and watched people walk over them), even to the color of the uniforms worn by all the employees (God forbid a passenger mistake a mere hotel porter for an exalted GCT employee!). Despite all those very conscious decisions to make the Terminal easy to use for masses of people, why would the New York Central adopt track numbering that would seem completely and utterly arbitrary to any rail passenger? Perhaps it was only done begrudgingly…

First, let’s go through a rundown of facts we do know about the Terminal.

Things we know about Grand Central:
• Trains on the upper level of Grand Central Terminal were divided into 3 categories, each split from the other, with its own location: Incoming long-distance trains (the Biltmore room and tracks west of the main concourse), Departing long-distance trains (the Main Concourse), Mail and freight trains (east of the main concourse).
• One of the design goals of the main concourse was for passengers to have the ability to see all departing trains, and quickly find their own train from anywhere in the room.
• Suburban trains were completely split off from the aforementioned trains upstairs – they all arrived and departed on the lower level. Thus the two local trains listed on the departure board in the first photo are consistent with facts.
• Confirming the premise that tracks east of the main concourse were reserved for mail and freight, plans for Grand Central call for a mail chute between tracks 14 and 15, and the platform by tracks 10 and 13 was reserved for the [American] Express Company. Some tracks on the east end of the lower level were also reserved for mail.
  
• Several years before the Terminal was completed, a Grand Central post office annex was built on the east side, which would eventually have access to the east mail tracks. The New York Central deeded the building to the US Government in 1932.
• The Graybar Passage has a completely different aesthetic than the rest of Grand Central Terminal, which implies that it was not built at the same time as the Terminal. Our eyes are clearly not deceiving us, we know that the Graybar building was constructed in 1926. Tracks 17 through 11 have gates here in this passageway.

  
  The Graybar passageway, which contains tracks 17 through 11, is a newer addition to the Terminal.

Based upon the things we know and the visual evidence, here are the things I am suggesting to fit with my theory about the renumbering:
• Because upper-level tracks east of the main concourse were reserved for mail, they were not given numbered gates like the ones for passengers. I’m assuming the highest gate on the upper level was 18, which would coincide with tracks 1 – 17 on the lower level, hence a perfect numbering system.
• For some reason, the New York Central decided that some of the tracks used for other purposes would be converted for passenger use. Many things could have influenced this decision, including a decline in the amount of mail handled (as previously mentioned, the NYC deeded the Post Office annex to the US Government), and more passengers than they thought would be using the station, especially during the war.
• When these new gates were added, it made Grand Central’s gate numbering inconsistent (there would have been two gates numbered 17 through 11, one each on the upper and lower levels). Thus the lower level gate numbers were changed to 3 digit numbers. The gates in the first photo – numbered 7 and 8 – were now 107 and 108. Although the gates no longer had a logical order, opting for this scheme reduced the amount of people affected by the renumbering. When converting the lower level mail gates, numbers really got messy, thus the reason for the bizarre gates 102A and 103A. At minimum, the three digit gate numbers helped to differentiate what was on the upper and lower levels.
• These added gates on the upper level made it so passengers could not see all trains departing while standing in the main concourse (one of Grand Central’s ease of use important concepts). Thus a compromise was reached – departure signs for those tracks outside the concourse were added to the archway:
  

Of course, everything above is all speculation. But it addresses the two major questions regarding the numbering – why were the numbers changed, and were there duplicate numbers on the upper and lower levels. If today’s track 111 was just 11 in the past, and there was also a track 11 on the upper level, that makes two track 11′s, and double the confusion. It seems to make more sense that the upstairs 11 was not there yet for passengers.

As it is right now, I don’t think there is anything more I can really do to figure out this mystery. Thus I am opening it up, and presenting everything I’ve found to you all. Someone out there may have a photo, or a timetable, or another bit of info that sheds some light on this situation. Collectively, I think we can figure this out – when and why were the track numbers on the lower level changed? Have any thoughts, clues, or evidence? Post in the comments below!

 
 
The old station at Marble Hill, pictured in 1927, and in 1946.

As we’ve toured the Hudson Line, we’ve encountered several stations with fairly confusing backgrounds. There are stations that nobody seems to be able to spell correctly, like “Spitendivel” and “Pokipse.” And there’s also Ardsley-on-Hudson, which isn’t in Ardsley, and shouldn’t be confused with the former Putnam Division station of Ardsley (despite the fact that the New York Central printed Ardsley-on-Hudson timetables as just Ardsley). Today’s tour takes us back to the Bronx, to another station also surrounded in a bit of confusion – Marble Hill.

 

Views of the tracks near Marble Hill in 1935.

Special timetable with new daytime trains for the West Bronx stations, including Marble Hill… where that Bronx name is subject to debate.

If you were to look at any of the local timetables printed by the railroad, or even at a map, you’d likely get the idea that Marble Hill is part of the Bronx. On the other hand, I probably have at least one person that wants to hit me for calling Marble Hill part of the Bronx in the paragraph above. As New York City grew, we humans have significantly changed the landscape of Manhattan island and beyond – and I’m not just talking about massive buildings and skyscrapers. At one point in history, Marble Hill – named for the marble quarries once located here – was part of Manhattan island. When a canal was built to link the Harlem and Hudson Rivers, Marble Hill was separated from Manhattan and became its own island. And when, in 1914, the original course of the Harlem River was filled in, Marble Hill became connected geographically with the Bronx.

Map of the Marble Hill area from 1895 (when the canal was completed), and an aerial view of what the area looks like now. Note the “island” of Marble Hill on the 1895 map.

Politically, residents of Marble Hill vote for the Manhattan Borough President, Senator, City Councilman and Assemblyman. But due to the geographic nature of the area, Marble Hill is serviced by the police, emergency and fire department from the Bronx. Because of the general confusion, residents of Marble Hill end up in the archaic directory known as the “phone book” for both the Bronx and Manhattan, and letters written to either borough will be delivered by the US Postal Service. Nonetheless, Metro-North considers it part of the Bronx, and you’ll find Marble Hill listed in the local timetable for the West Bronx.

 
Around Marble Hill in the ’60′s. Photos by Herbert Maruska.

The current Metro-North station at Marble Hill is located a bit more north than the historical station operated by the New York Central. The old station had four tracks running by it (visible in the photos above), where the current station only has three. Both locations, however, are easily within walking distance of the 225th Street subway station, which has a significant effect on the ridership at the station.

In 2008, Metro-North reported that over 900 people were using Marble Hill station, but only 100 were using it to get to Grand Central. At least 300 people were getting off southbound Hudson Line trains and transferring to the subway. Another 300 were using Marble Hill for the reverse commute, possibly making the connection with the subway. Although it would likely lengthen the commute time, many people may be doing this as a cost saving measure. For example, a Tarrytown to Grand Central monthly would cost $266, but a Tarrytown to Marble Hill monthly only costs $88. Purchasing that along with an unlimited-ride Metro-Card would yield a savings of $74. For others, the subway may just provide easier access to their places of work.

  

Some non-Metro-North action in Marble Hill. Seeing Amtrak trains at Marble Hill is a rarity, as they generally branch off from the Hudson Line before Spuyten Duyvil, unless for some reason they need to be detoured. Photos by Mike Foley.

Besides the geographic anomaly and the unique ridership of Marble Hill, the station really is typical of Metro-North. You can find the same station signs, wire benches, blue trash bins, and ticket vending machines as almost every other station. The station itself consists of a short island platform, connected to street level with an overpass, which contains the aforementioned ticket machines. The station is located right alongside the river, and visible from the station is the Broadway Bridge, which connects both cars and subway trains to Manhattan.

That about wraps things up for Marble Hill – next week we’ll feature our final Tuesday Tour of the Hudson Line, Poughkeepsie.

Grand Central Terminal has plenty of secrets, though most of them aren’t quite secret, as they have been covered in the media in some shape or form. If you’re lucky enough to ever get on a VIP tour of the Terminal, there is one place that tour most likely will never go – the Williamson Library. That’s right – hidden within the walls of Grand Central Terminal, since 1937, is a library! It certainly isn’t flashy – and probably not tremendously interesting to anyone that isn’t a railfan – but one of the library’s prized possessions makes this one of my favorite Grand Central secrets.

Photograph of Frederick Ely Williamson, which appeared in Fortune magazine. Williamson served as president of the New York Central from 1935 – 1944, and founded the library.

Frederick Ely Williamson, the library’s founder and namesake, was born on June 14th, 1876 in Norwalk, Ohio, the son of a clergyman. A 1898 graduate of Yale University, Williamson got a job with the New York Central in September of that year, after graduation. His first job with the railroad was as a Mohawk division clerk in Albany, with a salary of seventy dollars per month. By 1917, he was an integral part of the railroad, coordinating the movement of war supplies on the eastern seaboard. When the government took over the railroads for the war, he became the general agent for the port of New York. After the war, he continued his employment with the New York Central until 1925, when he became the vice president of the Northern Pacific railroad, and president of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy.

By 1932, Williamson had returned to New York, and ascended to the presidency of the New York Central, leading the company through the end of the Great Depression. During World War II he was appointed a Colonel by the Army, and named supervisor of railroads in the Eastern region. Williamson served as president of the New York Central until August 14th, 1944, when he resigned due to poor health. Shortly afterward, Williamson died in New York on September 29th, 1944, at the age of 68.

Although that short biography details the life of an intriguing individual, it leaves out one major detail about Mr. Williamson – he was not just a railroad executive, but a big railfan. A member of the Railroad Enthusiasts of New York, he founded the library that was eventually named after him in 1937. The library has been under the care of the Railroad Enthusiasts of New York ever since, and its current membership contains plenty of railfans, old railroaders, and even some current Metro-North employees.

  
Behind one very innocuous-looking door lies another door, and the entrance to the library!

Panoramic view of the Williamson Library, decorated with lights for the holiday season.

Located above the Apple store, the Williamson Library is generally closed off to the public. Without a keycard for the elevator, you’d likely never make it up to the floor. Even if you managed to do that, the outside door is so plain and unremarkable you’d likely never even notice you’re standing outside a room full of history. Contained within the library is an archive of over 3000 railroad-related books, periodicals, and other literature. Visitation for research is by appointment only, and the room is otherwise used for New York Railroad Enthusiasts’ meetings. It is also home to various old artifacts, including the first version of Metro-North’s mascot Metro-Man, and a remnant of the original 20th Century Limited red carpet.

The prized possession of the Williamson Library – a remnant of the 20th Century Limited red carpet.

The 20th Century Limited, which traveled from New York to Chicago, is likely the most famous train to have ever used Grand Central Terminal. The height of fashion and luxury, it transported countless famous faces throughout its history. Lavishly appointed, the whole experience commenced with a walk down a plush red carpet. It is claimed that the phrase “rolling out the red carpet” entered our lexicon because of this famous train. After the 20th Century Limited was eliminated in 1967, the old carpet was no longer needed. Thankfully, some folks had the foresight to cut the long carpet into pieces, and save a few remnants for posterity.

Advertisements and photographs of the red carpet in action.

If you’ve been following our Grand Central centennial celebration on facebook, 100 for 100 (which you totally should be!), you’ll recall that I mentioned the 20th Century Limited’s red carpet just the other day. I know of at least two different remnants of the original carpet – the one found in the library in Grand Central Terminal, and another that stays with the restored former 20th Century Limited observation car, Hickory Creek. If you visited Grand Central during National Train Day, you likely saw a portion of the red carpet – this was the one that travels with the Hickory Creek, and not the one that resides in GCT.

The other known surviving remnant of the 20th Century Limited red carpet in Grand Central on National Train Day. Photo by Otto Vondrak.

Whether the library’s portion of the red carpet will make an appearance for the Grand Central Centennial remains to be seen, but I certainly hope it will. It is definitely one of my favorite historical artifacts hidden within the Terminal, and with the library, one of Grand Central’s more secretive “secrets.”

Just a few months ago, Metro-North released plans for changes in Grand Central Terminal’s Biltmore Room – a room that has an amusing nickname – the Kissing Gallery. Of course the media couldn’t resist reporting on what they called the “kissing room,” and thus it found its way into most people’s awareness for the first time. As times have changed significantly over the past one hundred years, the room’s original purpose, and even the social niceties warranting the room in the first place, are rather different. Nonetheless, I think the story of the Kissing Gallery is an interesting bit of Grand Central history, and highlights one of the original concepts that made the Terminal great.

In March of 1912, just less than a year the before the opening of Grand Central Terminal, the New York Central’s chief engineer George W. Kittredge announced that the Terminal would have a designated “Kissing Gallery.” There was likely much jest in the dialogue, as Kittredge also called the entrance to the room the “perfunctory peck spot” – though he was said to prefer the term “greeting gallery.” Other folks named it the “Romeo and Juliet room” – no matter what it was called, the room (rumored to be built with soundproof walls and roof) had an important purpose in the Terminal.

The Biltmore Room in the 1950′s. Photo by Boris Klapwald.

Nowadays, heading through Grand Central Terminal is a bit chaotic. People run through the main concourse en route to the subways, the passageways, or any of the various exits. Grand Central was not always like this, however. One of the wonderful things about the Terminal when it was first built was that everything was highly organized. It was acknowledged that a variety of people would be using the station – commuters, long-distance riders, arriving passengers, and even those who were not going to take a train. The goal was to keep each audience separate – if they never mixed, there would never be a “traffic jam.”

Commuters dwelled in Grand Central’s lower concourse, and as they made their way out to either the subway or the street, they traveled up the ramps, never having to enter the main concourse. Long distance departures left from the gates in the main concourse, where a passenger could see all of the tracks in one glance, and quickly find their train. Incoming long-distance trains arrived in the Biltmore Room – and it was here where the Kissing Gallery was found.

The Biltmore Room was named for the Biltmore Hotel, located above and accessible via this room. The idea was that arriving passengers could ascend directly to their hotel without ever having to step outside, and as an added amenity bags would be taken directly from your train right up to your room. As the designated greeting room, kissing was permitted here – as long as it abided by several rules…

Rules on Kissing – Grand Central Terminal

In all seriousness, the one main reason that these rules were in place was to deal with the aforementioned “traffic jams” that Grand Central was designed to avoid. In the main concourse passengers were supposed to have the ability to see every gate from anywhere in the room and know from exactly which spot their train would leave. Groups of stationary couples showing public displays of affection would not only hinder movement, but block the line of sight. Not to mention that this was 1913, and people were certainly more reserved. I suppose in a place where every single detail was well thought out, having a designated kissing area doesn’t sound too abnormal.

Left: Me about 10 years ago with my friend’s uncle in front of a DC Metro Kiss and Ride sign. Right: A Kiss and Fly sign at San Francisco International Airport. Photo from JPG Magazine.

I think the interesting thing to note is that there are still train stations in the United States and beyond that have similar concepts. I was rather amused by the “Kiss and Rides” found at many DC Metro stations when I first rode the rails there. Some airports also have “Kiss and Fly” versions. Since Grand Central’s Kissing Gallery was located in the arrivals hall, there was more of a focus on people greeting someone special arriving by train. These Kiss and Ride, or Kiss and Fly areas seem more focused on passengers departing – giving them a kiss and letting them go on their way.

Today there are no long distance trains that leave Grand Central – service is strictly commuters – but in its heyday Grand Central carried many different groups of people. The train was really the only way anyone traveled long distance in the early 1900′s, and the railroad was integral for moving troops during the world wars. Thus I wonder how many “thank god you’re still alive after the war” kisses happened in the Biltmore Room. Another thought to ponder about the Terminal we all know and love.

Two early Metro-North Hudson Line timetables, and a local New York Central timetable listing the station as Ardsley – just to confuse you.

Today’s tour of the Hudson Line takes us just about 22 miles north of Grand Central to Ardsley-on-Hudson station, a place of a bit of confusion. Ardsley-on-Hudson, located in Irvington, should not be confused with actual village of Ardsley, which is located a few miles east and had its own station on the long-gone Putnam Division. As you can see above, many Ardsley-on-Hudson timetables were printed with just “Ardsley” which doesn’t really help much with the confusion. Thankfully, Metro-North has been fairly consistent with printing the full “Ardsley-on-Hudson” on station signs and in timetables for the past few years.

Above: 1896 drawing of the Ardsley Casino clubhouse. Below: 1899 photo of the clubhouse grounds, and a postcard showing the yacht landing, train station, and clubhouse. The aesthetic of the train station matches the buildings for the Casino. Postcard from the collection of Steve Swirsky.

In regards to the train station, the name Ardsley derives from the Ardsley Casino, which opened at this location in 1896. The “on-Hudson” portion was tacked on because of its geographic location on the river, and to differentiate it from the village of Ardsley. To confuse you more, the Casino wasn’t a casino, but more of a club for the rich to play golf. While the Casino built a dock for their rich members to sail up to in their yachts, not all of the membership was quite as fortunate to own one – thus a train station was constructed. The train station building mirrored the Tudor revival architecture style of the Casino’s nearby clubhouse. The two buildings stood in close proximity until 1936 when the clubhouse was torn down. As the only surviving remnant of the club that once stood here, the station building does look a little bit out of place aesthetically, and has a unique look compared to other Hudson Line stations.

Though the Ardsley Casino no longer exists, the more informal Ardsley Country Club, can be named as its sucessor. The Casino merged with the nearby Racquet and Swimming Club in 1935, shortly before the old clubhouse was torn down and took that name.

Pedestrian bridge that connected the Hudson House apartments to the train station, which was destroyed in 2010. Photo by John Reidy.
 
Aerial views of Ardsley-on-Hudson. The one on the left is from 2004, the one on the right from 2010, shortly after the pedestrian bridge was destroyed. Note the differences in the station itself – the station was upgraded in the time between both photos.

After the Casino was torn down, it was replaced with the Hudson House Apartments. At one time there was a pedestrian bridge that connected the apartments directly to the train station. Unfortunately, the bridge was destroyed in 2010 when a sanitation driver crashed his dump truck into it. The historical bridge was never rebuilt.

 
Construction at Ardsley-on-Hudson station in 2005 and 2006. Photos by Henry C.

CSX at Ardsley-on-Hudson. Photo by Michael Foley.

Though the original station building still exists, it is not used for any railroad functions. It is now the home of the Ardsley-on-Hudson post office, and contains rows of post office boxes. The original fireplaces built in the station are still there, but not used. You may not be able to buy your ticket here, but there still is a small area that one could probably use to wait for a train, and some bathrooms.

Like many of Metro-North’s Hudson Line stations, Ardsley-on-Hudson underwent considerable improvements in the past few years. Ardsley-on-Hudson had its turn in 2005 and 2006, when a new overpass was built, as well as new platforms. Canopies were added to much of the platform to protect riders from the elements, which are visible in the aerial shot above. Ticket Vending Machines were installed in the new overpass.

All in all, Ardsley-on-Hudson is a pretty nice station. It has a bit of history, and being right on the Hudson River always looks nice. From the station you can see the Tappan Zee Bridge to the north, and just barely make out the George Washington Bridge in the far south on a clear day. If you ever find yourself on the Hudson Line, Ardsley-on-Hudson would always be an interesting station to check out!

Provided you haven’t been living under a rock recently, you may have heard that Grand Central Terminal’s Centennial is fast approaching. While Metro-North will be kicking off celebrations in February, I thought it would be more fun to get the party started now. That’s why I Ride the Harlem Line will be counting down the next 100 days to Grand Central’s Centennial with a historical photo of the Terminal. That’s right – 100 historical photos, posted one per day, for the next 100 days. I like to call it the Grand Central 100 for 100 Project. While there will, of course, be a few iconic photos in the mix that you’ve certainly seen before, I’m hoping that the majority of them you haven’t seen. It is a great way to visually explore the history of the Terminal, and to see Grand Central in a new light.

Grand Central is truly a monument of New York City. Not only is it functionally important – a great example of what a train station should be – it is architecturally significant, and paramount, an important precedent for historical preservation in the United States. Besides all that, Grand Central means a lot to me – and this is one of the few ways a lowly commuter interested in history such as myself can celebrate it. Grand Central, and its Centennial Committee, plan to hold their festivities on the first of February – which seems entirely appropriate – for the committee contains the rich, and the famous. Grand Central unofficially opened on the First of February in 1913 – not to the public, but to the rich and the famous. It was not until the gorgeous Information Booth clock’s hands moved to midnight, commencing the new day of February 2nd, that the Terminal opened to the public. Thus, February 2nd is the day that our project will be counting down to, one photo at a time.

A poster advertising Grand Central Terminal’s opening on February 2nd, 1913.

Our photographic countdown will be comprised of nine different topics, with the photos in each moving in a roughly chronological order. Posting a new photo on the blog every day doesn’t seem to be the best format in which to present these images – thus I’ve decided that the better place to post them all will be on social media. Facebook and Twitter are conducive to sharing – and I want you to share these photos. I want everyone to celebrate Grand Central and its 100th birthday – for it is our monument, not just a pretty building for the privileged.

Part 1: Construction of Grand Central Terminal
Thursday, October 25th

Part 2: Outside views, and the Changing Urban Landscape
Sunday, November 4th

Part 3: Waiting for the Train
Saturday, November 10th

Part 4: Trains in the Terminal
Sunday, November 18th

Part 5: Famous Faces
Friday, November 30th

Part 6: Around Grand Central
Sunday, December 9th

Part 7: The Main Concourse
Saturday, December 29th

Part 8: Noteworthy Events in the Terminal
Wednesday, January 9th

Part 9: Grand Central Terminal, Restored
Thursday, January 24th

So today, we begin. The first photo, and all subsequent photos, will be posted daily at 11 AM. Make sure to like or subscribe over on Facebook, or follow @mtaHarlemLine or the hashtag #100for100GCT on Twitter to see all the photos. There is also an unofficial countdown clock on the top of this site, which will link to the project photos, and count down to the centennial. We’ll also be celebrating with other Grand Central-themed posts over the span of the next hundred days, and will have something special on Grand Central’s birthday, February 2nd. Let the festivities begin!