John Delach

I decided that my recovery and rehabilitation from knee surgery had progressed far enough for Mary Ann and I to make the trip  to Grand Central Madison and enjoy lunch at the Bryant Park Grill nearby\to the LIRR’s new East Side destination. To eliminate any threat of overcrowding, we scheduled this adventure for Saturday, March 4^th.

To prepare for our trip, I examined an article from a 2015 edition of Trains Magazine that contained an extensive diagram of the new terminal. Back then, it was informally called the East Side Access project and it would not receive its current moniker, Grand Central Madison until just before its opening.

Little did I realize how overwhelming the actual experience of navigating the new LIRR terminal would be.

When the conductor came to punch our tickets, I first realized how much attention these LIRR ticket-takers were spending with each passenger making sure that they understood that this train was not going to Penn Station and that they had to change trains in Woodside to continue on to Penn. The extent of the railroad’s concern that passengers were going to their correct destination became more apparent as we approached the Woodside Station. A crew member used the P/A to give a detailed explanation of how to transfer to the correct train.

On arrival at the new squeaky-clean, well lit and well-signed platform, we realized we had de-trained on one of the lowest levels, so we used an elevator to ascend to the mezzanine level. There we found one of the four banks of escalators that took us 120 feet up to the new LIRR Concourse that ran north to south from 48^th Street to 43^rd Street.

Since our destination was located in Bryant Park between 42^nd and 41^st, we headed south to the end of the LIRR Concourse and into the corridor that connected this passageway with the traditional Grand Central Terminal, the subway and the new skyscraper named Vanderbilt 1. I was so intent on navigating us in the right direction, that I ignored the troubling signals I felt walking along this concourse. We reached the street via another escalator on the corner of Madison Ave. and 42^nd Street. Our destination was only two and a half blocks away.

Lunch was fun and brought back fond memories of other meals at the Café. This was our first visit since the COVID 19 virus first hit three years ago in March of 2020.

We became a bit confused trying to figure out the time of departure for the next train that would return us to Port Washington from Grand Central Madison

rather than from Penn Station. Finally, we determined that we would make it if we left the Bryant Park Café in the next ten minutes.

Even though paying the bill was easy, I had a funny feeling that making our train on time would be a problem.

We retraced our steps back to Vanderbilt One and those escalators that returned us to the entrance to both GCT, the subway and the entrance to the LIRR Concourse. We walked north to check out the ticketing area and the waiting room. Mary Ann remarked that the relatively narrow concourse with its low ceiling reminded her more of an airport. We both were surprised how empty it was. All of the shops on both sides of the concourse are unoccupied with the windows papered over that added to this strange sensation of claustrophobia.

The almost totally empty ticket office and the waiting room only added to my confusion. I think the combination of the absence of people in this hall, poor signage and the miniscule seating area for a maximum of three dozen ticketed passengers further disoriented me. Of course, that number exceeded the few passengers awaiting their trains. It began to seem like other than the two of us, almost everybody else in those spaces all worked for the LIRR. Cops, staff, ticket agents and guides.

It all closed in causing me to lose my bearings. When Mary Ann told me our train had been called, I was able to walk us over to the down escalator, but vertigo set in. When we reached the mezzanine, my ability to locate our train had almost deserted me.

Fortunately, I figured out that we had to take an elevator going above the mezzanine to reach the platform for our train I led us to the closest door and seats inside. At this point, my thinking process shut down. Mary Ann asked me something about the station, but all I could do was mumble gibberish.

I realized that I couldn’t communicate, but I couldn’t explain this to Mary Ann. I finally made it clear that I was out of it and she left me alone.

Somewhere during our journey, I got my act together allowing me to reconnect with my brain and communicate. First, I convinced Mary Ann that I was back on the same planet with her. Then, I swore to her that I was there the whole time, but that some kind of sensory depravation had temporarily shut down my ability to communicate.

Fortunately, my explanation made sense to her.

I have no interest in having that experience happen to me again so I have decided that on my next visit I will stay on the street for as long as possible.

The Long Island Railroad’s (LIRR) “Big Dig” finally commenced operations this past January with a soft opening. The initial service was limited to shuttles running between Jamacia and the new station to discover hidden bugs and gremlins lurking in the new physical plant before subjecting it to the chaos of twice-a-day rush hours. Next, a modified schedule followed until it was finally time for  full-service to be introduced in March.

This seemingly endless project to bring LIRR service to the East Side of Manhattan was first proposed in 1963, but didn’t get legs until the creation of the new super commuter operating agency, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA) in 1967. This super authority  subsumed most existing transportation agencies including the NYC Transit Authority, the LIRR,  Metro North and those operations of the New Haven Railroad into Grand Central with the cooperation with the State of Connecticut. Other agencies were also included particularly the Triboro Bridge and Tunnel Authority that built and operated all of the tunnels and toll bridges that cross the East River.

In 1968, New Yorkers approved a $2.5 billion MTA bond issue to fund its Program for Action that provided few details how the MTA would spend this money or the additional money they would also need.  Their top-priority project was a new four-track tunnel to cross from Queens to Manhattan along 63^rd Street to carry a new subway line and give the LIRR access to the East side of Manhattan.

The planners decided to use a big chunk of the available funds to build the tubes under the East River. Rather than use traditional machines to dig out a path beneath the river, they contracted with Bethlehem Shipbuilding of Baltimore to construct four tubes in a dry dock like they were submarines. When each tube was completed, both ends were sealed, so that they could be floated out and towed to New York. The first tunnel segments were delivered in May of 1971, and by March of 1972, all four had been lowered into place. By that October, the two completed tubes and the middle land section on Roosevelt Island that included a subway station had been linked together.

Unfortunately, by the mid-1970’s New York City was essentially broke and when President Ford refused to bail-out the city: “Ford to NYC: ‘Drop Dead,” its ability to borrow money collapsed  All capitol construction came to a halt. NYC suffered through massive lay-offs. And massive default was staved off by a last-minute injection of cash from the Teachers Retirement Fund. Other forces finally convinced the Feds to intervene.

Still a period of hard times would freeze projects for the foreseeable future. Despite Mayor Abraham Beam’s public announcement that all work had ceased, Richard Ravitch, the MTA Chairman said the work on fitting out the tubes had to continue or they would deteriorate to the point of being unusable. Fortunately, he preserved the core of the project.

Finally, in 1989, construction on connecting the subway line resumed with a new target date for its completion to a dead-end station in Long Island City set for October. (This new subway “to nowhere” would remain unfinished until 2011 when new tunnels connected it to the main subway lines under Queens Boulevard.)

By 1999, conditions at Penn Station had grown chaotic thanks in part to the initiation by NJ Transit of their Mid-town Direct connection that allowed trains from their northern routes direct access into Penn Station rather than terminating in Hoboken.

In 2002, Congress passed a bill that allocated $132 million for infrastructure projects in New York State that included enough seed money to resurrect the East Side Access project.

Construction began when two tunnel boring machines began the one mile journey from the East River ends of the tubes west to Park Avenue and then south digging out two new tunnels to two new terminal caverns each 100 feet beneath the original Grand Central Terminal. Each cavern would accommodate two platforms servicing four tracks stacked on top of each other and separated by mezzanines. Theses mezzanines 0would house elevators and four stacks of escalators to take passengers 70 feet to a new LIRR Passageway 30 feet under the existing station. Those banks of escalators provided new exits at 45^th , 47^th and 48^th Street. Additional exits connected to GCT, the subway at 42^nd Street and the brand new skyscraper, One Vanderbilt Avenue.

Finally, East Side Access became a reality. All it took was 60 years and $12 billion to build this dream. Frankly, the only reason it was actually finished was it became too big and too expensive  to fail.

But be careful about your dreams. It seems we became so used to not having a choice where to get on and off the train in Manhattan. We now have to choose where to go and when. Schedules had to be split between Penn and GCT. The same train no longer went to the same place. Commuters are confused and annoyed.

The railroad also had to decide on how to divide service between these two terminals with their analysis fogged by the new work-from-home movement developed during the COVID 19 quarantine. Good grief, does this mean we didn’t need this new terminal after all?

And don’t even let me get started about what the LIRR did to their service to Brooklyn, the LIRR’s bastard son.

At least the railroad is reacting to the debacle they created and is working on changes to routes, stations, length of trains and timing. But this remains a moving target and they have a long way to go before Grand Central Madison can be declared a success.

On “The Outside Looking In” will not publish on March 22 and will return on March 29^th. 

John Delach

March 2023

The following message was forwarded to me by a British friend. He received it from his adult daughter:

Getting undressed last night, being all slinky for my new husband…

Seductively take off my bra…to reveal an unused dog poop bag stuck to my boob.

Always keep humor alive.

First Published December 2014, Edited February 2023

Christmas, 2010; Mother Nature was not a in a nurturing way for those of us living in the Northeast. Small as our family is, we seldom spend it together but 2010 was the exception. Besides Mary Ann and me, both the Briggs and Delach tribes trekked to Marlow, New Hampshire.

Tom, Beth, Marlowe & Cace Briggs, Michael, Jodie, Drew, Matthew & Samantha Delach, plus the granddame, Bare Delach, the elder Golden Retriever and Max & Ruby Delach, two, eleven-week-old Golden puppies, the male belonging to us and the female, a birthday gift to Jodie.

Six adults, five kids and three dogs, all made it in three separate vehicles having to brave through various intensities of a major snow storm old Ma Nature threw at travelers like us navigating the I-91 Corridor. Mike and his family caught the worst of it but, fortunately, the peak of the storm didn’t hit until after we’d all made it safely to that place we call Little House.

Loss of power is issue number one in rural NH. Issue number two is freezing pipes that closely follows issue number one. We do have two wood burning stoves for our primary heat and our wood supply was superb. But, if we lost power, we’d lose water and life gets difficult quickly when that happens.

Cut to the good news: the power didn’t fail: “Thank God Almighty; say halleluiah, say Amen!”

With power, everything is good even though we were snowed in.  We shoveled where we had to with joy. The two pups realized they were in Golden Retriever heaven being able to play with each other in the snow without adult supervision anytime they wanted. Mike and Tom laid out a challenging sledding run on the hill above us that became the major outdoor attraction until the town sanded the hill.

What could have been an ordeal, turned out to be a winter wonderland. The pups left their need for action outside in the cold, kids also exhausted themselves in the snow and the adults had a marvelous time. Each time kids came in they were relived of soaking wet snow clothes; hats and boots that were hung from every available hook, railing or most any other surface that could hold a hanger. The stoves were well-tendered and the clothing dried quickly enough to be available for the next onslaught.

Inside was non-stop action. Food was always being prepared whether it was bagels and eggs, hot chocolate, soup, or great dinners. Good cheer and entertainment of every kind abounded from simple board games to playing electronic games or watching TV or DVDs.

Of course, things still go wrong. At the time, I was driving a Chrysler Aspen that I parked at the bottom of our circular driveway. My plan was to use this SUV as the lead vehicle to open the way out of the 16 inches of snow the storm had gifted to us. Unfortunately, when I made my attempt to open the driveway, I judged the turn too sharply and put the left hand side of my rig into a depression. Mike’s van was behind me. Mike and Tom did most of the clearing around the wheels and dug it out enough to enable me to pull the Aspen out using low gear with the transmission in four-wheel-low. After I cleared out I walked my original route and told Mike, “If you put your left tire in the depression I made with my right tire and you will be okay.” He did so and got out easily.

Another time after the driveway had been plowed by a local fellow from a garage in Gilsum, one town away, I came into the top of the driveway too fast. We were returning from a small local ski slope where my passengers had gone tubing – Beth and Tom, their two and Matt Delach. As I went into the first turn by the house, I realized too late that I was on ice under the snow and I wasn’t going to stop. The house was on the right so that direction was not an alternative. Ahead of me where the driveway curves to the left was Beth and Tom’s Grand Cherokee so that wasn’t a good alternative either.  My only choice was to keep going straight between a bush and a tree; deliberately leave the driveway and drop down into a level snow-covered grass area below it. Not sure how much space this gap afforded, I aimed more toward the bush figuring that would be the path of least resistance. Hot damn, it worked. It all happened so quickly that nobody said anything. Good fortune, part two, I was able to drive through the snow and regain the driveway. Only then did we three adults begin to realize what just happened. It did occur to me what an old friend used to say, “Delach, you just cleaned out your locker!”