The Brooklyn Bridge and Grand Central Station

This poem is in a restaurant at Grand Central Station.
Click to make this larger, so you can read it.

Today we took the train from Croton-on-Hudson to Grand Central Station.  Then we took a subway to City Hall/Brooklyn Bridge.  George had read the book The Great Bridge by David McCullough. He wanted to take Aunt Aggie under the Brooklyn Bridge; however, I persuaded him to walk over it instead.  Today was that field trip.  We had a good walk and enjoyed lunch in Brooklyn.  We found Grimaldi's pizza, but the line was too long.  So we ate burgers and hotdogs next door.  Delicious.  Then we walked back to Manhattan and took subway, train, and taxi back to the marina.  

This is one happy civil engineer!

There were so many interesting people on the bridge: The people watching was wonderful.  We saw two couples in their wedding finery with their photographers, the brides carrying bouquets. Everyone was taking selfies, group shots, skyline shots.  Bicyclists sped by, scaring any straying walkers off their side of the bridge.  There was an area where lovers have placed locks all along the bridge as they are doing in Paris.  It's fairly contained right now.  They write their names and the date on the lock.  Families speaking every language move slowly, matching the speed of the youngest child.  We had an international stroll along the wooden walkway.  When we looked out at the river and spied the harbor and the Statue of Liberty, it was hard to believe Aunt Aggie had just come through there yesterday.

A beautiful design spanning the East River

We had one bad moment at the end of the day.  The train north was warm, so we took our jackets off.  I put mine in my bag and George's on the seat between us.  He slept and I read as the miles went by.  When we arrived at Croton, the last stop, we got off and left George's jacket.  He didn't realize it until we were away from the train.  The train was still sitting in the station, so I went running down the stairs and banged on it.  Guys on the platform said the conductor was at the other end, ready to move the train to the yard.  "Run down there," they encouraged me.  So I did.  Before I could reach the end of the train, it started to move.  

A man said, "Did you leave something on the train?"

"Yes, a jacket."

"Well, go upstairs and tell the attendant.  He will send someone to the yard to get it."

"Thank you."

Before I could get upstairs, two more men stopped me and gave me the same directions.  

We walked up to the attendant, sitting behind glass in his office in the center of the station.  I explained and asked him to call the yard.  "I don't know why those men told you that because there's nothing I can do.  You have to fill out a lost and found report."  

George's jacket is old.  It is totally time for him to buy a new one.  He forgave me for leaving it behind.  

But isn't that interesting?  Everyone was helpful and kind except the person whose job it was to be helpful.  

Light fixture on the bridge