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It's no secret that train journeys make some of the most soothing bedtime stories.
There's something so inviting about coasting through the countryside, cocooned in comfort, watching the world pass by.
As travel goes, it may be the most enchanting way to be transported from one location to another with almost no effort required on your part to make it happen.
But what of the beginnings and endpoints?
There's also something uniquely magical about the convergence of so many travelers, so many journeys and so many stories all gathered in one spot.
Especially when it comes to the grand historical stations and terminals of a hundred years ago.
The beginning or end point of the trip has a tale to tell all of its own.
So tonight we'll immerse ourselves in the first of a two-part adventure written by Alicia Stefan and read by Simon.
It's a dreamy tour of Grand Central Terminal, which many have long considered the most gracious portal to New York City.
As we roam its fabled halls and learn its secrets, will come to understand how much the terminal itself has become an immutable part of history.
And the great news is you can hear part two of this story tomorrow night in a special Tuesday bonus episode freely available to all listeners.
It's that time of year where we love to bring you some special treats and surprises, so do join us again tomorrow night for part two.
As for the here and now, it's time for us to unwind, slow down, and prepare for a good night's rest.
Let's keep it really simple tonight.
If you have your own routine or technique you prefer to follow, Feel free to stick with that.
Or you can just join me for a few deep, relaxing breaths.
On the inhalations, draw in a sense of calm.
And with the exhalations, let go of any tension, stress, worry, or burden.
Try it now, breathing in and absorbing peace and calm.
Then, letting the breath go and allowing burdensome thoughts or sensations to flow out with it.
Breathing calm. together, breathing in fully, and slowly, steadily letting it all go.
Now you're feeling a little more settled and relaxed, give yourself up to the luxury of your own bed.
It is your compartment for the night.
As these upcoming scenes pass before your mind's eye, let yourself drift along, even if sleep descends upon you before the end.
After all, Grand Central Terminal has stood for over a hundred years and its story will be there for you to finish, whenever you feel like it.
Now, picture yourself standing on the storied streets of New York City.
Dusk is falling and this is where our story begins.
Approach Grand Central Terminal.
Evening is just about to fall.
The crush of people and traffic around you has a life of its own.
It's so massive, so thick, and so teeming with energy that you feel like you're floating through it.
A detached observer of a natural phenomenon.
Yellow cabs crawl by you issuing boisterous reprimands to each other.
Spontaneously, people get out of them and merge with the current of black and grey-clad pedestrians on the sidewalk.
You are part of a river, and it is pulling you steadfastly along.
Together.
You're flowing toward the station that serves as a symbolic gateway to New York.
You float through this ocean of humanity calmly.
As if to deepen the romance of the atmosphere, Mother Nature is dimming the lights in the sky around you.
Taking over for the setting sun, the sidewalks and streets of Manhattan respond.
As the brightness is leached from the sky, almost simultaneously, electricity picks up where the sun has left off.
White orbs on lamp posts and in storefronts cast their glow across the pavement, giving each passing figure a mysterious aura.
You approach the station from Park Avenue, heading straight for its most magnificent facade.
Tilting your head upward.
At the intersection of 42nd Street, you gaze in awe at the famous clock topped with the massive statue called Transportation.
It features the Greek gods Mercury, Hercules, and Minerva.
At 14 feet in diameter, it is rumored to be the largest example of Tiffany glass in the world.
The collection of statues is even larger.
At 48 feet in height, they weigh a total of 1,500 tons.
Appearing to hold up this weight effortlessly.
The street-level exterior of the building boasts graceful arched windows twice as tall as they are wide.
You can count 10 Doric columns which suit the Greek gods on the clock.
Perfectly exquisite landmark building was created to match the beau art style of the nearby public library.
Grand Central Terminal is considered to be a beautiful example of how this type of architecture merges classical elements with decorative French flourishes.
It is a sight to behold.
You are meeting a friend for a quick drink and an appetizer at the famous Campbell apartment bar inside the terminal.
Checking the minutes on the enormous clock, you see that it is almost time for your reservation.
You cross 42nd Street and enter the station through a stately and largely empty hall.
You're not sure what this room is for, but it looks like it used to be important.
Admire the ostentatious four-tiered chandeliers that hang from the ceiling of this tall space.
You keep walking straight ahead because the spacious heart of the terminal beckons.
Like the streets outside, it is filled with activity.
A sea of people move in every direction, each with a secret purpose of their own.
Some want only to catch their commuter train home.
They walk with determination, carrying tote bags and briefcases.
Others are clearly here for the first time.
They stand in small clusters, wearing backpacks and peering at maps.
Many of these people are looking upward in awe of the incredible sight that surround them at eye level and above.
So many people, so many lives converging, yet nobody runs into anybody else.
Demonstrating the genius design of its ambitious creators.
The main concourse accepts an unending stream of people and allows them to fan effortlessly out into its various tracks and corridors.
It does so without interrupting their journeys.
They are together, but they do not impede one another.
They are unwitting partners in a cosmic dance at this hub of humanity.
At the center of it all is perhaps Grand Central's most iconic landmark.
The golden four-faced opal clock stands atop the round information booth.
The clock and the booth are the center of attention.
However, even they seem small underneath the impossibly tall vaulted ceiling, which is covered with an elegant mural of the constellations.
On the sides of the concourse.
More enormous arched windows let in what light there is to be had amongst the towering skyscrapers of Midtown.
Gracious staircases at either end of the concourse allow visitors to ascend to the second floor balcony level.
That is where you will need to go in order to meet your friend.
Moving with hundreds of other visitors.
You make your way through the crowd and proceed to the second level.
There are some diners sitting out on the balcony overlooking the concourse.
You, however, are headed to the luxurious enclave inside the Campbell Bar.
Turning to the left, you step into the low lights of the entryway and are greeted by the host hears that you're meeting someone.
He tells you she has already arrived.
Smiling, he leads you through the plush interior to where your friend is waving at you.
She is sitting at a small table right in front of what was once a large safe for storing money and valuables.
Now, of course, it merely serves as a fascinating decoration.
Or at least you assume so.
You lean back in your luxurious leather chair and run your hand over the nail head trim.
Your friend has ordered some soft pretzel bites.
They arrive with warm cheese sauce on the side.
You request your favorite beverage from the server and she nods agreeably and says she'll be right back.
Turning to your friend, you comment on how cozy and yet magnificent this room is.
She tells you she's been here numerous times before and proceeds to share a little of its history.
You're not surprised to hear that during the Jazz Age, the Campbell Bar was once the private office of one of the people on the railroad's board of directors.
After all, the leather and brass decor really calls to mind a men's club.
At once intimate and impressive.
The space manages to feel like a secret hideaway without sacrificing all of the high-ceilinged glory of other parts of the terminal.
Looking up, estimate the ceilings are over 20 feet high.
Dimly through the darkness, you can see that they are painted.
Although night has fallen outside, you can see the lights of Manhattan illuminating the beautiful lead glass windows behind the bar.
No expense has been spared to bring this space back to its original beauty.
You and your friend spend an hour in the pleasant glow of the stone fireplace catching up on your latest news.
Alas, the time goes too quickly, and she tells you regretfully that she has a train to catch.
After settling your tab with the server, you make your way out of the velvet darkness of the Campbell Bar and part from your friend on the landing.
She disappears into the crowd, becoming one with it, making her way to the track where her train will depart.
As you watch her disappear, you are vaguely aware of a tour guide speaking to a small group of people behind you.
They are gathered on the landing of the balcony.
You can't quite make out what he's saying, but you're curious to know.
Stepping a little closer, you melt into the outer edge of the group just as they begin to move away from the main terminal and towards the outer wall of the station.
Intrigued, you follow them.
You soon find yourself in a stairwell you'd never noticed before.
It's by far the prettiest side stairwell you've ever seen.
They don't make emergency exits like this anymore, you think to yourself.
Even behind the scenes spaces at Grand Central get the decorative treatment.
Artful flourishes abound.
The tour guide is explaining the purpose of a large round window that looks out on the exterior of the station.
It is surrounded by metalwork of the same design as that that you see in the railings of the staircase.
He explains that this circular portal cranks open.
It is used as an access point for the workers who clean the enormous clock outside.
The members of the tour murmur appreciatively as each person gazes at the window imagining themselves.
The tour moves on.
You hear the guide saying something about visiting the hallway outside the tennis club.
In the back of your mind, you think how funny it is that there's a tennis club at Grand Central Terminal.
However, you remain in the stairs, looking at the circular window.
Buildings outside are ablaze with light now.
After losing yourself in your thoughts for a few minutes, you realize you are all alone in the stairwell.
Feeling oddly as if you shouldn't be there, you exit back into the main concourse.
Then you stop, unable to believe your eyes. it is completely empty.
The lights are on, everything is as it was, except that you are the only person there.
In awe of the silence, you are irresistibly drawn to the center of the concourse near the clock.
Gazing up at the balconies and the ceiling, you slowly turn in a circle mesmerized by its emptiness.
The room feels as if it is expanding around you, making you smaller and smaller.
Then you hear a friendly voice say, it's quite a marvel, isn't it?
Turning, you see a man standing in front of the entrance to the large empty hall where you had first entered the stations.
He is wearing a structured cap with a metal badge on it and a dark matching uniform with shiny buttons straight up the front of the jacket.
You stare at him in surprise, but he acts like this.
Encounter the two of you alone on the concourse is the most natural thing in the world.
As if you were old friends, he starts up a conversation Did you know that there are 67 tracks here?
Of course, only 43 of them are actually used for passenger trains right now.
The other ones are for equipment storage.
Still, during the morning rush hour, a train arrives just about every minute.
You survey the long line of platform entrances and ponder that amazing math in your head.
Turning back to him, you smile, saying, That's a lot of passengers.
He nods as if you're a clever student.
Then he says, oh yes, there are about 67 million riders a year.
Of course, not everyone who comes here actually gets on a train.
Between actual passengers and people who just want to visit.
There are about 750000 people in here every day.
You are impressed by this huge figure and once again turn your head upward to see the constellations on the ceiling.
He looks up as well, smiling fondly.
Now, there's another set of impressive statistics about that up there, he continues.
Did you know it's ten stories high?
And can you imagine?
There are only 12 constellations painted up there in gold leaf, but there are a total of 2500 stars.
The Vanderbilt family and the New York Central Railroad folks sure had a grand vision when they built this place.
Here's a little secret I'll tell you, though, the man says, lowering his voice as if in confidence.
The mural. is backwards.
Surprised by this piece of information, you look again.
You never would have noticed.
Seeing your reaction.
The man adds the official story from the people in charge was that the mural was that way on purpose.
They say it was supposed to be the divine perspective from above.
Sounds to me like a big story.
Who knows?
You both continue to view the ceiling in silence for a moment as you think about how wonderful it is that it has lasted over a century.
A few of the 2,500 stars appear to twinkle brightly at you.
Then he speaks again.
Now, this ceiling got pretty dirty over the years.
In the 1990s though, they undertook the task of cleaning it and bringing it back to its original glory.
He points to the corner near the zodiac sign of the crab.
Then he adds, You see that little black square?
You follow with your eyes and spot it, a tiny speck on the ceiling.
Then he says, That's the one brick they purposely left out.
Incredible change, isn't it?
You are amazed.
It is indeed quite a restoration.
He goes on to tell you that you can see all kinds of little secrets by looking upward in this terminal.
For example, the Vanderbilt family has subtly decorated many unexpected spots with acorn and oak leaf emblems.
This was in recognition of their family motto, which was that great oaks from little acorns grow.
To demonstrate his point, your new friend turns and points to the top of the clock on the information booth, revealing that one of those embellishments is right there.
Looking closely, you see that he is correct.
He goes on to say that it's like a scavenger hunt to find them all, and that you should pay special attention to the light fixtures, the carvings under the west stairs and the detail above the train gates.
You are delighted by this inside information and are determined to start paying more attention.
Lowering his gaze to the information booth, he offers the impressive statistic that the people who work there answer about a thousand questions every day.
As you peer inside this famous little fishbowl in the center of the concourse, you realize that you aren't sure how people get in and out.
You ask your guide, and he agrees that it's a great question.
He tells you that it is accessed by a spiral staircase in the center that is hidden from view.
It leads to the information booth exactly one floor below on the lower concourse.
Then he tells you that in the interest of modern safety, there is now an emergency exit up top as well.
But...
The staircase remains the usual method by which the friendly staff take their places and depart again when they go.
As you peek through the glass, imagining the spiral staircase inside, you realize that your guide has started walking toward the east side of the terminal.
He seems to assume you will follow, and you do.
Even as you're ambling lightly behind him, you are aware of the luxury of space around you.
You wonder when anyone last found themselves almost alone here.
Your knowledgeable friend steps into the opening of what is known as the Graybar Passage.
As you walk in his footsteps, you look up and notice there is a faded mural on the ceiling.
Think to yourself that it should be restored, much like the mural in the concourse.
Still, it is yet another elegant detail that separates Grand Central from an ordinary station.
Your impromptu guide stops in front of the window of an ordinary looking beverage store.
You are puzzled.
What can he possibly want to show you here?
Lights are on inside and the door is unlocked.
Just like everything else in the terminal.
It's as if it's open just for you, but there is no shopkeeper on duty.
You pass obligingly through the doorway and stand surrounded by store displays.
You are unsure of why he has brought you there.
Holding up a finger, as if to increase your suspense, he says Did you know there used to be a movie theater at this terminal?
You raise an eyebrow.
You had not known this, and you find it to be a marvelous tidbit of information.
He goes on to tell you that the theater opened in 1937.
Despite the compact nature of the space you're currently standing in, the theatre did once seat up to 242 people, he tells you.
According to some, it was once advertised as the most intimate theatre in America and was open until midnight.
People who were waiting for their trains could just come in and watch newsreels animated films.
They never had to worry about missing their trains because there was an illuminated clock over the screen.
At this, your guide gives you a look, as if to say how clever it is.
You are thinking the same thing.
Then, pointing upward, he directs your attention to a beautiful celestial mural, up high above all the tidy rows of modern merchandise.
He tells you that the mural had been hidden by a false ceiling for years, but the renovation in the 1990s had uncovered this Grand Central's other night sky, a companion to the one in the concourse.
Swiveling your gaze to the back of the store, you can still see the little square for the projection booth.
It is proof of how the present has been quietly living here, in the footprint of the past.
Just from touring the concourse and the theater you already feel like you know Grand Central Terminal pretty intimately.
But your guide... is not done showing you its hidden marvels.
Beckoning for you to follow him.
He sets out in a diagonal line straight across the concourse to its west side.
Trailing slightly behind him, you once again sneak an upward glance at the many elegant architectural details, marveling at how they quietly combine to create such magnificent effect.
You muse to yourself that it must really make commuting feel so much more worthwhile.
Your uniformed friend does not stop when he reaches the corner of the concourse.
Instead, he proceeds into the passage and takes a left.
You follow him past modern, well-lit retail stores that line the spacious passageway.
They too are deserted.
In a short while, he stops right in the middle of a passage and turns to you spreading his hands wide.
You walk closer to him and survey your surroundings.
You are standing under yet another of the many elliptical arches in the terminal.
In fact, this little alcove is a square formed from four such arches.
It is beautifully tiled, which is typical of the architect's universal eye for detail.
You are still not sure, however, why you are here.
Acknowledging your puzzlement, your friend reveals his purpose.
He tells you this is the spot known as the Whispering Gallery.
He tells you that, thanks to the tight fit of the tiles and the construction of the arches, you can stand in one corner and whisper something and he will hear it in the opposite corner.
You have heard of such a phenomenon before.
The Cathedral of St.
Paul's in London comes to mind.
This is your first time in a whispering gallery, however, so... you are compelled to try it out.
You walk to one corner as he goes to the other.
While you are trying to think what to say to him, he appears to have no hesitation.
Clear as day, you hear the words, you see, Grand Central Terminal is made of magic.
You smile, at his fanciful message.
It's exactly what you'd been thinking.
Turning back to you.
He motions all around him as if including the entire building in his next thought.
What's not obvious to the eye, he says, is the revolutionary forethought they put into the design of the entire station.
Never before had such a clever system being devised to move passengers from one place to another without having to take the stairs and without causing pedestrian traffic jams all over the place.
You nod thoughtfully as you picture the terminal as it was when it was full of people.
It was true.
For the incredible number of daily visitors and commuters that passed through this temple of commerce and transportation, there was relatively little congestion.
Like the cogs and wheels in a music box, the terminal moved everyone around in harmony.
Motioning to the ground at his feet, he says, and the size of it.
Did you know that Grand Central Terminal has the largest basement in all of New York City?
You make an expression of surprise.
You have not known this.
He nods emphatically.
Almost 50 acres, he says.
You can hardly get your head around this figure.
Your uniformed friend begins walking back up the ramp toward the main concourse and you follow him, taking a final look at the whispering gallery as it disappears behind you.
It retreats as if slipping back into a wrapped gift box, waiting for the next delighted visitor.
As you walk on, your companion asks you if you happen to know that there was a very busy lost and found at Grand Central.
You had never thought about this.
You say, that you imagine people frequently leave things on their trains.
Yes, and everywhere else in the station, he says.
He tells you that an office on the lower concourse rescues about 2,500 items every month.
Incredibly.
Something like half eventually make it back to their owners.
You imagine the surprising things that must have gone through this lost and found and chuckle to yourself.
Your attention shifts back to the magnificence of the main concourse as you approach its center again.
Gesturing to the top of the information booth clock.
Your friend tells you that the point at the peak is actually a compass that is aligned to True North.
Further, he says it's set to the atomic clock at the Naval Observatory in Washington DC.
This means it is accurate to within one second every 20 billion years.
Then he gets a merry look in his eye and says, you know what's not accurate?
The listed train departure times.
You are very puzzled by this suggestion and look at him with open scepticism.
After all, train departures seem like the paragon of timeliness to you.
He shakes his head.
He says the train times are purposely set one minute prior to when they will actually leave, so people will not be late when they are boarding.
Your jaw drops open when you hear this.
The idea that this clever ruse is accepted practice is amazing to you.
A perfectly accurate clock here is paired with universally incorrect departure boards.
The wonders of Grand Central Terminal do not cease.
You realize your guide has strolled southward in the concourse and is looking into the large empty waiting room you had walked through when you first entered hours ago.
Gesturing to it, he says, this was quite a swanky spot back in the day.
People used to wait here for their trains when Grand Central was still used for intercity travel.
You move across the gleaming marble floors and follow him as he drifts further in that direction.
He tells you it is called the Vanderbilt Room.
Pointing to the very grand four-tiered chandeliers.
He says just think there are 132 lights on each one.
Then he adds the Vanderbilts wanted to show off the fact that that they were using all electricity at Grand Central.
If you really look around, you'll see every bulb in every light fixture is exposed for just that reason.
You turn your head upward and regard the soaring ceilings and their fancy chandeliers thoughtfully.
Your friend further explains that this hall is now used mainly for special events, because Grand Central no longer services intercity traffic.
That, he adds, goes to Penn Station.
You are glad that he has answered your question regarding the emptiness of this big space.
Walking in a small arc and sweeping his arms wide.
Your guide seems to get quite caught up in his historical visions.
Tells you of the amazing luxuries the station once offered travelers.
For example, a New York Times newspaper article from 1913 boasted of amenities for ladies, including hairstylists, manicurists and even private dressing rooms that came with a maid if the lady would pay 25 cents.
For men, one might get a private barbershop shave for just a dollar an hour.
Or he could perhaps patronize a more public barbershop where the article boasted he could get a shave in any of 30 languages, since travelers from all the nations of the earth passed through Grand Central.
A haberdashery was provided for travelers in case of a wardrobe problem, and even the sick visitor would find an emergency physician on site.
Your uniformed guide drops his hands and shrugs as if to say, what more could there be?
As a final pronouncement on this history lesson, he points out that one important thing about Grand Central has not changed over the years as much a destination for commerce as it is for travelers.
Its beauty is matched only by its enticing usefulness.
This he suggests may be why it has survived so gloriously where other stations have gone the way of the wrecking ball.
Looking around you, swallowed by the stately silence, grand meeting place, this repository of human experiences.
You know that he is right.
This place is a work of art that continues to serve its citizens with style.
You are pondering this thought-provoking idea when your guide pulls a pocket watch from his jacket and his eyes widen.
My goodness, he says, if we don't get you to track 34, you'll miss your train.
You look at him and shake your head in confusion, telling him you weren't planning to travel anywhere.
Slipping his watch back into his pocket, he grins at you reassuringly.
Oh, but you are in for the most luxurious trip. most legendary ride of your life, he says.
Fine dining, beautiful views, and then a peaceful night's sleep.
Step lively because you won't want to miss your first ride on the famous 20th Century Limited train.
He sweeps his arm wide, indicating that you should walk back to the main concourse.
Presumably, he will direct you to the track where you are now expected.
Suddenly, you know that this next leg of your adventure was destined to happen.
As soon as you start moving, your uniformed friend walks quickly to get ahead of you.
He calls back to you that he will direct you to your departure track.
You glide smoothly across the Tennessee marble that adorns the concourse, drifting past the information booth and its marvelous clock, as if in a trance.
The constellations in Grand Central's interior night sky wink merrily at you from far above.
They are wishing you farewell.
Your guide vanishes into the gloom of the passage at the northwest corner of the concourse.
You can barely see his retreating form, but he calls to you that you are right on time.
You have a peaceful and confident feeling that all is going as planned, although you are not sure what that plan really is.
You do feel one thing for sure.
As you move toward the entrance to track 34, you know that another one of your dreams is about to come true.
