| “New
York, new York - What a Wonderful Town!” Ayn Rand.
FasTracking. Building a Country Club. The habit
of Journaling.
I
arrived at the New York City bus station with
$17.70 in my pocket at two in the morning. It
was Sunday morning. I knew no one, had no place
to stay and had never seen a city this big before.
With all the enthusiasm of youth, these facts
did not bother me at all. When I walked out on
the street, however, my confidence wavered a
bit. I walked out into the most bizarre street
scene I have ever seen. It was still going strong
and seemed to me to be sporting every possible
variant of human that was possible - and some
that were not. To me at the time, it was like the bar scene in the first Star Wars movie which was several decades in the future. Until this moment, I had considered
myself a worldly person. No knowing where to
go, I headed for a coffee shop travel bag and
drawings in hand. The warm coffee seemed to put
the world back right until a very strange looking
young man, noting that I was out of town, offered
to take me home. Realizing that I was completely
out of my league, I retreated back into the the
bus station (the young man following behind me).
It
now dawned on me that I might be more than slightly
over my head.
I
purchased the Sunday Times, parked myself
in the center of the huge dome - as far away
from anything or anybody as it was possible to
get - and waited the dawn. I realized I had to
find a place to live and work and in that order.
The Times provided a lead to both. It
did not take long to find a place called the Paris
Hotel which was nicely situated at 96th Street
and West End Avenue. It had the right price structure
and was just off the Red Line and the Park (a
design criteria - I had to live close
to Central Park). One down.
The
second search required a more sophisticated algorithm.
I realized that I had to get a job right away.
And, I had come to New York to learn to build
- this meant a construction job despite
the fact that I had little experience in it.
My logic was simple: I found the company that
was running the most adds for construction superintendents
and engineers. My reasoning was, with all this
construction going on, they had a place for me.
My task was to convince them of this one basic
fact.
Dawn
did arrive, I called the hotel and got exact
instructions - the Red Line Express a few stops
and a short walk to the lobby. I marched to the
counter, told them I had come to town to take
a construction job and would require a long term
room with a view of the park. They showed me
the room - a steel casement corner window! -
that looked out over the entire city skyline
with the required view of the park. I told them
it would do and that I would pay weekly as I
received my paycheck and they said that was fine.
The hotel, of course, was a full service with
dining facilities so I had secured food that
I could charge to my room. I unpacked - this
took a few minutes - I was home. New York, a
wonderful Spring Day, and not a care in the world.
I put on my best coat and tie and took my first
walk through park, shops, museums - I felt that
I had finally discovered civilization.
Monday
morning. Step two. THE Job.
A
subway ride to corporate headquarters, a bit
of persuasion (with only slightly false pretenses)
and I found myself, drawings in hand, in front
of the president of the Winston-Holdzer group.
I showed him my work and explained that I had
come to New York (where else!) to learn to build.
I explained that I was (personally!) going to
heal the breach between architects and builders.
He said it was all very interesting but he saw
no opportunity with his group and that he was
busy and thank you for coming in. Fortunately
the phone rang. While he talked I marshaled my
arguments. I tried again. He said no - again.
The phone rang again. This happened four times
- I was never so grateful for busy phones. After
the last, he hung up put up his hand and said “don’t
say anything!” “It is becoming clear
to me,” he said “that you are not leaving
my office without a job.” Is that true?” “Yes
sir,” I said. “Well, in the interest
of getting some work done today, here is what
I want you to do.” He wrote out an address
on the East side of Manhattan (that even after
one day in New York I knew was way up
scale) and told me to arrive there at 7 am the
next morning. Knowing a good deal when I saw
it, I gathered my drawings and made a swift exit
walking five feet off the ground. I had made
it and architecture was never going to be the
same again!
At
precisely 7 am, I knocked on the apartment door
of Lester R. Windling, president of the Bayside
Project - it was opened by the most beautiful
woman I had ever seen dressed in the most incredible
- and transparent - dressing gown I had ever
seen. My mouth fell open and failed to operate.
Graciously, she invited me in - both she and
Lester seemed fully briefed and amused regarding
my interview of the day before which apparently
had been communicated virtually word-for-word.
A maid served coffee as Lester explained that
he was taking me out to the project so that I
could interview with my new boss - an overworked
construction superintendent with several buildings
under way.
Lester
went into his bedroom to finish getting ready
while I surveyed the apartment, Mrs. Windling
and, out the window, a waking New York city.
I had never seen such understated wealth - wealth
so naturally accepted as a normal circumstance.
In my by now overheated youthful mind all of
this seemed like landing in the right side of
an Ayn Rand novel. THIS is what it is
about! If Mrs. Windling noticed my highly agitated
state she did not show it. If she had dropped that dressing gown to the floor I would have died on the spot - but I would have died happy. Of such small imaginings is youth sustained.
Lester
came out and asked me if I could drive a stick
shift explaining he needed to drop his car off
for service. Of course I could. In the garage,
he presented me with the keys to a pre-war Supper
Swallow Jaguar fully restored and worth a small
fortune even in the 60’s. It was in this
machine that I experience my first - and last
- driving in New York City rush hour traffic.
I must have aged 10 yeras in the 10 minutes it
took to get that car to the garage. Without any
fuss, Lester completed his business and drove
us out to Bayside explaining in great detail
the project and the help the superintended required.
He explained my duties, what and when I would
be paid and all the other arrangements.
I
spent the morning and early afternoon with Ronald
(the super) getting further briefed on my duties,
which were to start the next morning, and drove
back with Lester in the early afternoon. I found
out much later that he did not usually come in
on Tuesdays and had done this in order to get
me started. On the way back to the city he asked
me if I was fully situated. I told him where
I was staying and he said it was a good choice.
I told him it would be some time before I would
get my things from California and could use a
small advance for work clothes and so on. Lester
reached inside his pocket and completed my day
of surprises by pulling out the biggest wad of
100 dollar bills I have ever seen before or since.
He peeled off six of them and asked if that would
do. “Yes, fine.” I “We will take
twenty dollars a week from your paycheck” and
that was the end of it.
I
was in New York. I had my first job in construction.
And as it turned out, I had found a patron in
Lester who would help me as much as he could
within the framework of his world view. I celebrated
that evening by going to my first Broadway show.
It was a conversation with Lester that led to my formulation the Rate of Change Model [link: change in the rate of change], stimulated me to start thinking systematically about the future and ultimately lead to the my participation in the creation of MG Taylor Corporation and focus on what is the main Thesis of my work [link: a future by...]. I has been on the job a few weeks, enough time to polish my skills as a field engineer, so the company told me to come into Manhattan one day to establish the footings for a 33 story apartment building they were building. The site was close to Lester’s apartment so he walked over to see how I was doing late in the day. I had just finished and was packing up the transect when Lester and I got into a conversation about the building that was going to be erected. I critiqued it very forcefully and pointing out all it architectural defects. Lester took it quite well considering our relative ages, experience and position in the company. After about a half an hour he said “look Matt, let me give you a piece of information.” “From the time we bought this piece of property until we get return of capital, it will be 10 years.” Don’t you think that this is enough risk without building one of those crazy, round, triangular, articulated monstrosities of yours!” This set me back and I told Lester I would get back to him on the subject. I went home to a long night of thinking. Before this point, I had not thought of the economics of a building - just the budget and the requirement of staying within it. Even in the 60s, and even to a young man such as myself, a little thinking would reveal to anyone that ten years was designing a project in one economic era to reach maturity in another with totally different conditions. By the time Lester and his group got their return I was in Kansas City trying to understand how the world was changing so fast and what it all met.
| Design
of projects from The Fountainhead |
|
