90 West Street, New York Survivor Story, Part 1 12-2-07

90 West Street, my beautiful Beaux Arts Manhattan landmark reminds me of my favorite childhood book, The Little Engine That Could.

Edited from Wikipedia, a little railroad engine existed to pull a few cars on and off the switches. One morning a long train of freight-cars asked a large engine in the roundhouse to take it over the hill.

“I can’t; that is too much a pull for me,” said the great engine built for hard work.  More great engines refused the call for help.

At last in desperation the train asked the little switch engine to draw it up the grade and down on the other side.

“I think I can,” puffed the little locomotive, putting itself in front of the great heavy train. As it went on, the little engine kept bravely puffing faster and faster, chanting “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”

Nearing the top of the grade, that had so discouraged the larger engines, the little engine kept saying, “I—think—I—can, I—think—I—can.”

Of course, the little engine was victorious and went on down the grade, congratulating itself, “I thought I could, I thought I could.”

No Longer in the Shadows

My Manhattan home is like this little engine.  Her story is one of survival, rebirth and continued assaults on her gorgeous beauty and strong character.

Considered one of Gilbert Cass’s architectural triumphs, 90 West survived the horrific blasts of Sept. 11, 2001, reopening its doors in 2005. With an exterior restored to now-landmark status, and the interiors designed for modern living, it embraced me with open arms and strong spirit.

When the towering, World Trade Center buildings collapsed, my little building stood firm, if seriously wounded.

Fire raged for days and two people died. My special friend refused to join them. She lived on, determined and proud.

You Want Me In Your Fox Hole

I identify with the spirit of 90 West Street, moving there to experience rebirth at a scene of great catastrophe.

Especially in a crisis, I’m a woman of true grit. Forget the platinum blond hair. i have no problem getting it dirty.

Those green gargoyles are my buddies. One particularly beautiful, night last August, I sat in an open window, drinking in a glass of wine and the spectacular western view that captivates me always, legs dangling 19 floors above the street life below.

Tested Once More

Days after my aerial, great-legs display, tragedy struck our neighborhood again, reminding me that we must drink in life every minute, because our pleasures are often short-lived.

On August 19, 2007 a major fire ravaged the under-demolition Deutsche Bank building next door to 90 West. There’s wide speculation that a carelessly-thrown cigarette ignited the lethal blaze.

I returned home from Carversville that weekend, with my neighborhood in great pain once more, now mourning the loss of two more valiant New York City firefighters: Robert Beddia and Joseph Graffagnino. (See my Journal Aug 20.)  

Tragedy struck again this week, and I will share the details in Part 2 of my Journal, posted this evening. I must go buy two Christmas trees — one for Carversville and another for those gargoyles. They’ve requested a special celebration when the building reopens.

Photo credits:

Architectural montage: www.facademd.com 

Twin towers: Edison Coatings

Deutsche Bank Fire: NYTimes, see all nine in article 

Love, Anne