View from Empire State Building
photo by John Shearer
View from Empire State Building
photo by John Shearer
View from Empire State Building
photo by John Shearer
Empire State Building
photo by John Shearer
Christ United Methodist Church in Manhattan
photo by John Shearer
Christ United Methodist Church in Manhattan
photo by John Shearer
Central Park
photo by John Shearer
Central Park
photo by John Shearer
Plaza Hotel
photo by John Shearer
NBC Today show studio
photo by John Shearer
Scaffolding around Rockefeller Center tree
photo by John Shearer
Chelsea Hotel
photo by John Shearer
Papaya hot dog stand
photo by John Shearer
Papaya hot dog stand
photo by John Shearer
Chelsea Market/old Nabisco factory
photo by John Shearer
Roosevelt Hotel
photo by John Shearer
Airline gate sign for Chattanooga
photo by John Shearer
High Line park
photo by John Shearer
High Line park
photo by John Shearer
High Line park
photo by John Shearer
On Saturday, Nov. 23, my wife, Laura, and I were getting excited about going to the top of the Empire State Building while well into the second day of what was my first visit to the Big Apple since 2011.
In fact, we were so excited we decided to go down about two hours earlier than the time I had reserved when I purchased the online ticket a short time earlier. This is one of my favorite attractions dating back to when I had first come to New York as a young adult in 1985, while also remembering the view of cars below looking like ants as a 5-year-old in 1965 when I came with my parents and sister to the New York World’s Fair.
So, I was ready to see the world from above again for both nostalgic and anticipatory reasons due to the exciting experience. I had also realized that visiting it during the night when the skies are clear is especially enjoyable and adds a romantic touch. So, with clear skies expected that night, I had purchased the tickets.
We caught the subway down there and got out at Herald Square at around 34th Street and soon saw the outside of famed Macy’s Department Store. We walked about two or three blocks and then were on one side of the Empire State Building.
Quickly going in since it was cold outside, we found a reception desk, and I told the friendly woman manning the area that our tickets were for about 90 minutes or a couple of hours later. But, since we were down there, we wanted to go ahead and tour it then if we could.
Luckily, they were not filled up with reservations, so she said I could simply go over to the kiosk and change my ticket to an earlier time, which I did. Hey, there is nothing like the present!
We then walked through a maze of nice museum-like attractions celebrating the history and fame of the iconic landmark and got on an elevator. We went up to one floor, but it was not the famed outdoor observation deck.
I started wondering if maybe I had gotten the wrong ticket. And even though I try to show class and character whenever I can, I was getting a little hot under the skin thinking I was going to have to tell them they took me to the wrong floor. And I was going to have to demand to see the famed outdoor deck, even if my ticket would not let me.
After Laura and I looked around and out the glass inside this room that was nice and warm, we found another elevator to take us up to the 86th floor, where the famed outdoor observation deck is. So, I had gotten inwardly a little hot under the collar without needing to, as this other big floor was just an added stop on the way up, perhaps to help run even more people comfortably through the attraction.
Relieved and calmed down, I was quite excited by the time we got out of that elevator after a short ride, and I started walking around the familiar observation deck and taking pictures. Even though I am from faraway Chattanooga, I felt like I had come back home, as I had enjoyably walked up on this deck so many times over the years and in different stages of my life.
It was good to look, too, at my old friend – the city of New York – from above. I was even ready to break out in the Frank Sinatra/Liza Minnelli song, “New York, New York.” There were, of course, some new buildings below, including the Freedom Tower in Lower Manhattan near where the World Trade Center twin towers had been.
And I even understood there was a new viewing skyscraper called Summit One Vanderbilt not too far away. But for me on this night, I wanted the old familiar view from the Empire State Building’s famed outdoor observation deck.
I soaked it all in from each of the four sides for a few moments, despite the cold that I hardly noticed, and enjoyed the night-time view that seems even more spectacular than during the day. I had long forgotten my frustration thinking I had the wrong ticket to get to this spot.
After a few more enjoyable minutes, Laura and I took the elevators downstairs, saw some familiar parts of the Empire State Building’s lobby that used to be where people gathered to go to the top, and then we went to get some supper.
I had seen that the State Grill and Bar inside the building had good ratings, so we decided to eat there. It might not have been one of those fancy restaurants run by a chef with an Italian or French name, but it looked nice on the inside without being too pretentious. We saw a couple at an adjoining table as we were waiting to order who were celebrating a birthday and enjoying some kind of dessert. They seemed local, so I felt good knowing the place was good enough for them for a special occasion.
Having said all that, I decided to get a cheeseburger and fries. Perhaps the cold air had made me work up a man’s appetite. Although I did not eat all my food, I still enjoyed it.
We then headed back to the subway and unfortunately got turned around a little regarding which entrance we had earlier exited. A family of travelers from Canada were also at the subway platform, and one woman asked us to make sure they were waiting on the right train, and we were able to tell them correctly that they were.
After earlier in the day reacquainting ourselves with the subway system again, we were suddenly like New Yorkers and subway experts and veterans.
We then got back to our hotel at the Hilton Garden Inn on West 46th Street thankful for a full day of adventures that, as I mentioned in the previous story, had included stops at the Cloisters art museum on the Northern tip of Manhattan and the Garment District earlier in the day.
The next morning, Sunday, Nov. 24, after another asphalt-pounding jog around our block for 25 minutes or so, I got dressed and then went back to the Fabrique Bakery on Fifth Avenue on our block, where Laura and I had eaten on Saturday morning. This time, instead of Laura and I eating there, I got the bakery items and drinks to go.
For myself, I ordered another interesting cinnamon-style roll like the day before, but instead of a plain croissant for my savory item, I ordered more like a ham and cheese croissant sandwich. It was all good, but maybe I got a little too full from the sandwich. As a result, once again the calaries I had burned from the jog were quickly added back with the breakfast. But it was all enjoyable, so I did not mind.
After Laura and I got dressed, we wanted to go to Christ United Methodist Church at Park Avenue and 60thStreet near the southeast corner of Central Park for a Sunday morning service. I am as much a heathen as the next guy, and we usually do not go to church when on vacation. But since Laura is a retired United Methodist pastor, we thought it might be fun to go to the beautiful and historic Byzantine and Gothic revival-style church designed by noted American architect of yesteryear, Ralph Adams Cram.
But first we had to get there. Since we had successfully navigated the subway system, I had an inner confidence that I could suddenly get around the entire city with ease and in the most economical manner. I saw that one or two bus lines stopped right near our hotel and went within a couple of blocks or so of the church.
So, we walked out to the bus stop, and I had confidence like I had lived in New York for 20 years. We then waited for the bus. And then we waited a few minutes longer. I knew buses likely ran a little less frequently on Sunday morning, but I did not see a sign of one coming after seeing several others pass.
Finally, after about maybe 10-to-15 minutes of waiting and not being completely sure when our bus would come, Laura and I became tourists once again and decided to catch a cab. I quickly flagged one down, and a man of apparently Middle Eastern descent kindly took us.
He was friendly during the trip that was hardly five minutes long, although he seemed a little surprised we wanted to be let out by a church.
We had arrived more than a half hour early, so we went in the pretty church and got to hear the talented choir rehearse as a bonus and were able to use the restroom on a lower floor, where the heat seemed to be hotter than in other parts of the church. The latter may be typical of an older building.
We came back up and enjoyed the service in chairs in a nave area with maybe around 100-150 others. The choir sounded good, and the Rev. Eric Park delivered the sermon. In the spirt of both the recent election and Thanksgiving, he was talking in part about different people getting along. He mentioned a police official he had met and befriended amid the news of recent years about the George Floyd beating by police, etc. It was an uplifting service, and we enjoyed it and said hello to a few others. It did not seem that much different from a Southern United Methodist church service.
After we shook the pastor’s hand as well after the sermon and told him Laura was also a United Methodist minister, and he asked which seminary she went to (Candler at Emory in Atlanta), we used the restroom facilities once more. That, of course, is because a restroom an important commodity in New York for tourists out on the streets.
We then headed to get some lunch – a nice reward for anyone who takes time to go to church. That is, even though there is always the conflict of having to go somewhere while the workers are not getting to enjoy a sabbath as you are.
We decided to go to a place we had enjoyed before – Sarabeth’s. It is known, at least among us, for its brunch-style food like quiche and eggs benedict, among a number of other dishes.
I had decided to make reservations the day before, and that worked out well, as we were seated within five or 10 minutes of getting there, while others who just showed up had to wait 45 minutes to an hour. Everyone seemed in a jovial mood, though, so it did not seem to matter.
I ordered the quiche, which I had enjoyed getting before, and thought I wanted a salad with it, so I ordered one. I might have enjoyed a garden salad with thousand island dressing, but they did not have it. So, I ended up ordering a chopped salad with lemon vinegarette dressing. Laura got eggs benedict.
I drank iced tea, and since they did not have sweet tea, I had to slowly stir some packs of sugar into it.
When our food came, lo and behold on my quiche plate was a vinegarette salad. And sitting beside it was my bigger bowl of salad. It did not say on the menu that a small salad came with the quiche, or I could have saved some money ordering another salad.
Other than that, which was probably my fault since I should have asked if it came with salad, the meal was very enjoyable, and I tried to eat a little from both plates of salad. So, too, was the atmosphere nice. Even though they put numerous tables near each other to meet their demand of numerous people wanting to eat there, it was still a relaxing setting.
And it was fascinating watching the waiters and cleanup staff moving around, efficiently taking your orders, and cleaning off and getting a table ready for the next group of customers. They all seemed almost as synchronized as the Rockettes we had seen on Friday while they were having to work and were not getting to relax like Laura and I were. But they all seemed to be happy to work there, based on their positive and helpful attitudes.
Also interesting to watch were the different diners. I saw different ethnicities almost at adjoining tables, and it was neat to see everyone sharing the common and universal theme of families or friends gathering around tables for food and fellowship. There seemed to be a few small children as well, so this must be a popular place for families to come when relaxing from a normal work week.
I topped off the meal and nice experience by ordering a jar of their famous strawberry and raspberry jam to take home and carry the memories with me.
Afterward, we decided to cross the street and glance at the southwest end of Central Park. It was a pretty part of the park for sure with a hill, trees and a lake. I kept walking around, though, looking for a nice bench to sit on along Central Park South, and everywhere I smelled marijuana smoke. I had noticed the frequency of that odor in the air as I had walked around since arriving in the city, and at times to me it interfered with the nice smells of food coming from the various ethnic food stands and trucks.
It was one aspect of New York that seemed more apparent now than in previous visits, perhaps because marijuana use was now legal. Hopefully these users were not the same people we had seen in church an hour earlier. That, of course, seemed highly unlikely.
After a few moments there, we decided to go back to our hotel. And this time we went looking for a cab again. We walked back up to the area near Sarabeth’s and were able to soon catch one among several lined up.
The man who took us back seemed friendly and told us as we drove up one of the busy streets that this part of New York seemed more crowded and livelier than in recent weeks, perhaps due to the Macy’s Parade and Thanksgiving activities coming up in a few days.
After he had let us out near our hotel room, we went up into the room and relaxed for a few minutes. A few years earlier I might have rested for 30 minutes and then gone on to our next attraction. But because we are a little older and it was colder outside, the hotel room and its view at the interesting and mostly older buildings outside were good enough attractions.
However, after an hour or so of watching football and sitting around, I did decide on my own to walk down to the Magnolia Bakery near Rockefeller Center and get a pastry like I had done on Friday. I had actually gone by there as well on Saturday, and it seemed a little more crowded, so I did not stop. And on this Sunday it was even more crowded than the previous few times, with a line going several feet out the front door. Let’s hope it was not due to people having the munchies from the smoke I had smelled.
So, instead of waiting in line, I headed down to the Van Leeuwen ice cream store inside Rockefeller Center to get Laura and me some ice cream in cups. Hey, it was a little cold outside and not ideal ice cream eating weather, but you don’t have to worry about it melting fast, either. And there was hardly a line at this place.
I got something for Laura and a mixture of strawberry and chocolate for me and began heading back to our hotel as swiftly as I could while trying to evade the crowd and smoke.
We enjoyed it while continuing to hang around the room. Except for the cooler weather, that Sunday afternoon might have been ideal timewise to do one of the activities I wanted to do -- go and ride the Staten Island Ferry from the south tip of Manhattan. It might have been a little less crowded at that time, too. I had always enjoyed doing that and looking back at the Manhattan skyline and the Statue of Liberty, but it was not to be apparently on this trip.
As it got to be close to suppertime, we once again got really inventive and decided to eat – yes – pizza, just like we had on Friday night. We also went across the street but this time went to a cleaner-looking place than the other one and enjoyed the experience overall better. The pizza was good, too, although all New York-style pizza always seems to taste about the same.
We then decided to do one activity that night. We walked about four blocks north around Rockefeller Center. But this time we went to a part we had not been to – the back part. Here are located such familiar sights as the famous ice rink, NBC’s “Today” show studio building and outdoor area where they meet viewers and have concerts, the gold Titan Prometheus statue, and, this time of year, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree. The latter was still in scaffolding when we were there, though.
As an avid “Today” show watcher in the mornings since the 1990s, it was neat to see everything, and it all looked a little different than it does on TV. The one open linear plaza leading to the ice rink was actually sloped down, which surprised me.
It was fun to see that, and unfortunately I did not see Savannah Guthrie, Hoda Kotb or Al Roker. They were probably all asleep getting ready for the next day’s show!
We then went back into the hotel room and were ready to relax the rest of the night. I got up the next morning, a Monday, and – being a creature of habit – took another jog around the block where the hotel was for a few minutes and then soon got some pastries again from the Fabrique Bakery. Jogging around the block relaxed, I had no idea that within a week or so after we got back home, the tragedy of the United healthcare executive getting gunned down in front of another Hilton hotel just a few blocks north of where I was would occur.
I am glad I did not stay at that hotel just a few days later, as I would not have wanted to get unintentionally caught in the crossfire.
Laura and I were heading back to Chattanooga that night, but we wanted to do one more activity. She had wanted to visit the elevated High Line linear walkway park built and opened in 2009 on an old freight railway line. And I wanted to have a New York hot dog before we left. So, we did both!
To get to the park, we successfully caught a subway southwest to about 23rd Street and then had to walk several blocks west through the Chelsea neighborhood to the path, which goes north and south for roughly 1.5 miles.
But first, I had to find a hot dog. Laura’s son, Chris Whitelaw, who formerly lived in New York, had recommended getting a hot dog from a Papaya storefront eatery rather than a street vendor, so I had looked up the night before if one was near the High Line, and it ended up being near the subway stop. Unfortunately, it was a long block or so in the other direction from the High Line. But since it was already about 11 a.m., I figured it might be easier to go ahead and eat there. We also planned to stop at a CVS nearby.
Laura was not yet hungry, at least for New York hot dogs, so I ordered a couple of them from a man who seemed like a typical New York small business entrepreneur and was apparently the owner.
We sat down in the small seating area, and after one or two bites, I thought I might want some chili on it as well. So, I went back and asked the man for some chili, and he somewhat sternly told me that cost extra. I said that was fine, but for some reason, maybe due to my Southern accent, he put some in a bowl and gave it to me and said not to worry about paying for it.
I appreciated the gesture while also realizing the bean-less hot dog chili came out of a can.
But the hot dogs overall were good, and I was glad I got to experience them, even though I too might have been a little hungrier if I had waited another hour.
Laura and I then began walking the several long blocks back past the subway stop and toward the High Line park, asking one local person if we were going in the right direction. It was fascinating being in this Chelsea neighborhood, as it actually had a neighborhood feel.
The people walking the streets were less numerous, and we saw one or two people walking dogs, and it was different from the more densely populated other areas of New York. I could easily live there if a resident of the Big Apple, even though I understand it is one of the more expensive places in Manhattan.
To add to this idealistic feel, despite it being mostly buildings and sidewalks, I saw one marker on a building that said the site had once been the home of “Twas the Night before Christmas” author Clement Moore.
One fact about being out here in an isolated neighborhood in New York is that you never know where a restroom might be. But we plodded through and reached the elevated High Line and knew we could walk just a few blocks south for no more than 10-15 minutes and be at the Chelsea Market, which had restrooms.
Once on top of the High Line, we almost felt like we were in another world. It was like a boardwalk, but with surrounding plantings, landscaping and art pieces and it relaxingly made New York a seemingly calmer and more manageable community, even though plenty of other people were walking on it.
There also seemed to be newer buildings built around it, possibly residences, so that all added to the charm. Overall, it was quite neat and interesting. It was definitely in the spirit of the riverwalk around downtown Chattanooga and the Hunter Museum of American Art, but it also had a little of the feel of the boardwalk paths along South Chickamauga Creek.
We soon arrived outside the Chelsea Market and quickly found restrooms right off the High Line path, so any previous worries we had were gone.
We then worked our way down to the Chelsea Market building and went inside. Looking kind of like Warehouse Row, it was a giant, old brick building that featured eateries and shops selling a variety of items and goods. But a Chattanoogan like me could also relate to it because it was once the home of Nabisco and where the famous Oreo was invented and made.
Laura and I walked back and forth before she decided to get a slice of quiche from a bakery. I still had room for a cookie, so I enjoyed a chocolate chip one and was still able to enjoy the culinary experience of the giant building. Hey, what else are you going to get in a former Nabisco plant but a cookie!
After walking past the shops another time – and, of course, making use of the public restroom facilities again – we then got ready to leave. After having to brave the subway and do a little walking coming down to this building, we realized we had earned a cab drive back to our hotel.
We did and got to see some parts of New York we had not seen, even though the cab ride was a little longer and more expensive than our previous two, and the driver was not quite as friendly or talkative as the other drivers.
We then got back to our hotel after checking out before we went to the High Line. Laura decided to sit in the lobby for 45 minutes or so while we waited to catch the hotel limousine to the airport, but I decided to go out and walk around.
From my jogging, I knew some stores were nearby, so I went in a Barnes & Noble bookstore and then a Jos. A. Bank clothing store, where I bought a blue V-neck sweater for probably close to the same price I might pay for one in Chattanooga. It was neat communicating with the older New York woman working there.
Also while out, I noticed the Roosevelt Hotel. It has been in the news in recent months as a place where immigrants bused by the governors from Texas or Florida had been staying. So, needless to say, it did not have a valet standing out front ready to help you. I have a connection to this hotel in that it is where my late mother, Velma Shearer, and I stayed when I was in college while we were getting ready to go on a University of Georgia trip to what is now Russia way back in 1983.
After a little reminiscing, I headed back to the hotel, and it was about time to catch our limousine. It cost about $80, which was about $20 cheaper than our ride from LaGuardia airport had been.
We had a nice and quiet ride of probably no more than 30 minutes to LaGuardia, and then began going through baggage claim. I was so pleased to get our baggage through the self-check-in kiosk with the help of a kind young woman that I gave her a tip, which she seemed surprised, but certainly happy, to receive.
We then quickly went through the other security check-in area and were soon ready to wait for our flight, which was still two to three hours away. I was also impressed at how nice and improved and enlarged the LaGuardia terminal was since the last time I flew out of it.
And the food seemed better. After we had been there an hour or so, I got a burrito from a Mexican grill-type place and heartily enjoyed it.
Even more digestible was the fact that our plane was not only scheduled to be on-time a day or two before the Thanksgiving and holiday rush, but the information sign eventually said it might leave early, or at least the connecting plane would arrive in New York early.
I stayed busy working on a couple of tasks on my laptop computer, and then we were soon on the flight home and happily arrived when it was almost time to go to bed. Although rain was coming down in Chattanooga, we did not mind, as an Uber driver took us home and conversed with us a little.
Although I had enjoyed going to New York for the first time since 2011, I also wished we could have gone to two or three additional places while there. The latter might have included visiting the 9-11 commemorative sites and the Freedom Tower and maybe going to the Columbia football game as I referenced in the first story.
But overall, I had enjoyed finally taking care of the itch to go back to New York. But more than that on this wet and cold night, I was glad to be back home.
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To see the first story in this series, read here.
https://www.chattanoogan.com/2025/1/2/497260/John-Shearer-Getting-Reacquainted-With.aspx
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Jcshearer2@comcast.net