5 Responses

  1. Lee Winson says:

    Was this the space later used as a CBS TV studio and later tennis courts?

  2. William Hays says:

    Before we (Uris Buildings Corp.) tore down the old Grand Central Palace (Park & 46th/47th Streets) to build 245 Park, our Grand Central guru, Max Levine, discovered a painting left behind. Max was retired from the NYC as a civil engineer in the Terminal, or Chief Engineer’s office. He took the painting back to the Uris office. The brothers, Harold and Percy, told him to keep it. It turned out to be quite valuable — a Sargent, or some such. Max was my mentor and rabbi, for all thing sub-terrain in the ‘train rooms’ of GCT. Quite a guy!

  3. William Hays says:

    Working in the train rooms of GCT, doing new construction, we paid for NYC “flagmen” to protect our work areas. Signing off on their time-sheets, I was surprised at how little they were paid. These guys were full Conductors and their pay was computed to the half-cent per hour, at a wage much lower that our laborers made. Most lived out of the city, as far north as Buchannan and Brewster. Only the lower housing costs, and an employee pass, made their lives possible.

  4. William Hays says:

    Being the boss’ son (and later as the Field Boss, myself), I had a wunnerful chore each Xmas season. I got to, surrepticiously (sp?), deliver liquid “Greetings-of-the-Season” to NYCRR employees that had facilitated our endeavors. “Tokens-of-Appreciation” ranged from top-of-the-line Scotch, to Canadian whiskey, to (my favorite) rye, depending on the stature/pay grade of the employee. I’m sure none of them violated “Rule G” and took the presents straight home for the holidays. An occasional six-pack, for the flagmen, during the year, was also in my budget, but only at quitting time. Excuse me, now. I think I’ll have a drink.

  5. William Hays says:

    I was riding a New Haven MU home to Rye, of an evening. As was my habit/wont, I rode the last car, sitting on the motorman’s fold-down seat. An obviously inebriated Trainman came onto the vestibule and ordered me out. He was carrying a paper bag with a six-pack in it. I said “Rule G” to him. He shut up and we rode merrily eastward. He didn’t share!

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