Dominick Santise

As the summer passed and my days escaped me, I noticed that there was a different kind of daily routine to the reworking of the west side of Second Avenue. Having dug up and moved the utilities last fall and into the spring, and then moving to the other side, I watched as the avenue shifted one more time and the work came back over. All summer the work was different—more cranes, less trenches—and the now accepted smaller sidewalks no longer had to be re-negotiated on a daily basis. The presence of blue tarps alongside each of the cranes hinted at the dangers that hid behind the protective barriers. I figured the mud or hydraulic fluid that might be spraying from the drilling that Skanska was doing must be relatively common for the tarps to follow each of the cranes that were boring the slurry walls.

All this work for a launch box—no subway, no T Line for a while. Until a year ago I had no idea what a launch box was. I stumbled upon The Launch Box about that time and was then contacted out of the blue in April by Ben, who has been running the site with photos of the construction. Through his site and the research I was doing last year I came to understand the concept of the launch box—basically the hole in the ground that they will place the tunnel boring machine in and send it on its merry drilling way. Having seen photos of the launch box for the east side connection of LIRR to Grand Central Terminal I can not wait to see how they manage to get all that machinery into the hole. I doubt that Second Avenue will be open to traffic for quite some time.

As usual members of the crew walked over and started chatting. I got a renewed compliment on the latest illustration by one of the foremen that gave me his card a year ago when I started drawing all the action. The collection of drawings is stacking up and now that I have a better schedule at hand I will be making every attempt to do one a week, every other at the least. Life is changing all around on Second Avenue, but I have a feeling in ten years I may still be drawing some aspect of this project.

Right about the time that it became visibly obvious that something was brewing along Second Avenue in the spring of 2007 The New York Times published an article about the eventual possession and demolition of a corner building on 97th and 2nd Ave. Century Lumber sits on the southwest corner of the intersection and has been a local fixture for quite some time. Right across the street is the yard that took over the playground on Second Avenue and on the north side of 97th are Metropolitan Hospital and the Thomas Jefferson Housing complex, two institutions that will most likely not be moved for the T Line construction, though I am sure will be affected by the new traffic. Century Lumber however, though not according to the tenants, will see its end in a few short years.

Having lived in the building next door for nearly a decade, the place has kept me employed in my part time pro-bono work of repairing my landlords building as I make improvements to our apartment(s). I have always been fascinated with New York and its inhabitants. I remember when we first moved in I purchased screens to stick in the windows for the summer months. Carrying them into work at the time I was looked at like I had a gun in my hand. My manager asked what I was doing and upon my explanation she laughed and said, “you can just ask your landlord.” Now, maybe I could have kept my $20 for the screens by asking and that, especially at the time, would have been a plus to the landlord/tenant relationship, but it was only the first of many instances over the years that made me realize just how many people are incapable of taking care of themselves in terms of their home. There are very few do-it yourself kind of fix-it people in NYC, so many call their super or landlord to do the most menial tasks.

So as I drew Century Lumber last week during the UN visits by all the worldly, and Alaskan, visitors, I wondered if most of my projects would have had the same fate if Century had not been next door. Several dozen times I was able to run downstairs, unshowered and having yet to brush my teeth, and pick up what would consume me for the day. Would I have called my super or the landlord more often if the needed material wasn’t so close? Would I still be waiting to do certain projects? Would my windows have remained shut to keep out the bugs?

I then wondered if the same people waiting for the M15 bus to arrive would still be waiting when Century is gone and the subway is in. On that day the 97th Street Limited Stop, having moved up from 96th Street for the construction, was crowded with waiting passengers staring up the avenue for the next bus. Being told by the rush hour bus stop coordinator that the UN traffic detours kept the buses from coming up 1st Avenue and therefore leaving no buses to make their way back down, several of the awaiting passengers negotiated the trip up the hill to the Lexington Avenue 6 Train. Most opted to wait, instead grumbling that it was taking so long.

That morning was a good example of what reportage illustration brings to the table, or corner in this case. Too often, especially in New York City and I assume anywhere else as well, we do not stay in one location long enough to really evaluate it or the people who pass through. Drawing on site creates the opportunity of being center stage for the action, even if the action is waiting. Spending time at the stop last week I witnessed so many different reactions to the UN caused frustration: two people who had not seen each other in years running into each other and passing the time catching up; day laborers taking the break that they needed before the bus finally arrived; white & blue collar people trying to hold back what was now the moment the stress started for the day; the MTA bus driver relaxing against the fence waiting for the techs to come and resurrect his stalled bus; several elderly who really had no physical choice but to wait for the bus; and my favorite, an irrational neighborhood woman who stormed off after the first two buses were limited stops only. She was screaming about the fact that all the old people have been here waiting and carrying on about how no one was thinking about them. The truth was, she had arrived a few moments before the buses started pulling up to the stop (about an hour after I got there), so she no more knew who was waiting than the bus driver. Obviously she needed a local bus and didn’t want to wait the 2 minutes until it finally came.

Stress brings out the true nature of people. Me, I probably would have walked away the moment the MTA bus coordinator informed everyone that it would be at least 15-20 minutes before the first bus arrived. If I had stayed, I certainly hope I would be the old co-workers catching up, but more than likely, whether it is next week or in ten years when I may only have to walk across the street to the subway station, I will be the guy standing in the center of the crowd drawing. At least I can only hope that is my fate most days.

Or more to the point, good luck crossing.

Work on the East side of Second Avenue went much smoother and was completed more quickly than that on the West side of the avenue the many months before. It may be in part to increased efficiency from all that the Skanska crew learned, less work on utilities or pure luck, but by mid-summer the work was complete and was moved back to the west side again. My favorite corner, where Nick’s sits on 94th and 2nd Ave., was home to a rather extensive dig along the building foundations. It was interesting to see some of the brick work that lies below the street level. The age of the buildings really shows through when you see how they roughed in brick below ground. Actually, just the fact that they used brick for the foundations and not concrete like they do now was an unusual and historic site. Nick’s kind of got the raw end of the deal in terms of the construction and the digging on that corner. Not only have they lost their outdoor seating area which brings in quite a bit of money during the nice weather, but the set up during the east side construction made the restaurant look as if they were serving inside a prison. It became a running joke with the guys inside that I had to find my way through the maze of fences just to get my pizza. One day I looked down and one of the contractors must have tried to help out, spraying “Nick’s” and the address on the road about 20 feet from the door with arrows leading patrons on their way. Oddly enough, the noise level inside wasn’t bad at all. Minus the late evening view of contractors walking back and forth outside the window, you wouldn’t know it was even going on most nights.

On the May afternoon I drew these two illustrations, crossing the block was a bit tricky. East to west the crosswalk was blocked by the backhoes bringing in dirt from a pile on Second Avenue and north to south the front end loader stopped pedestrians as it scooped dirt from another pile on 94th. The guys in the ditch felt more like gravediggers than construction men. I kept feeling like if the lone guy who was orchestrating the loads from both directions looked away the two in the ditch would permanently be a part of the new T Line. With every load they got a little higher and finally walked right out of the hole, after burying the new pipes below the surface. I can only assume that the next few days would find a similar process happening in front of Nick’s as they reworked the utilities in that trench and filled it in.

And just for the record, Nick’s is what makes the corner my favorite. It has been our kitchen away from home when we don’t feel like cooking. For a nice stretch of time we ate there 2-3 times a week when life got too busy to cook. I find it odd to think that in 10-15 years I may be exiting a subway station and walking right across the street to Nick’s, having come from as far south as Wall Street without ever having to travel too far to catch a ride uptown.

After a several month hiatus I ventured back out onto Second Avenue this week to pick up where I left off and continue illustrating the progress on the new T-Line, better known as the Second Avenue Subway. Upon picking up my sketchbook I found that I had three drawings that I never posted from as far back as April. The first one, above, is of three Skanska workers, and what I think was a foreman behind them, opening a ditch in the west intersection of 94th Street and 2nd Ave. Work at this point was on the east side of the avenue, and was much better maintained then the original round of work on the west side of Second. One of the foremen even made reference to “learning” from the first strip they opened down the west side of the roadway. In the background on top from the left is the fence protecting the work from the drivers barreling down Second Avenue. A truck is loading material over the barricade.

I can only imagine the nightmare of dealing with all of the utilities under the roadway and constantly having to gain access to one connection or another. This ditch had just been sealed and paved a few weeks earlier (Second Avenue Lane Change) and was now being opened for some new work. Several foremen, including the one behind them, kept watch as they opened the road in a relatively busy intersection. The three guys I drew that morning were a little bothered by my presence at first, but as I have found to be the case, warmed up to idea that I was drawing them, though each wanted me to draw the other two. The guy in the center, a tough but quiet Irishman, muttered a few comments to me as I was working. About a month later he passed me as I was heading down Second Avenue and did a double take, not remembering why he knew my face.

A few weeks ago I was able to get a little higher up and capture a quick drawing of the work yard where all the trucks come and go from. Prior to last spring this was a small and nondescript playground that had seen better days before closing down and becoming one of two main headquarters for the work that is going on. It is here that the monsters work and rest, all the machines that can’t stay on the street at night for the few hours each day that work stops. For months I could set my clock to the slamming of the back gate of the last Dump truck to unload whatever material they removed over the final hours of the workday. At 10PM each night, you can imagine the surprise the heavy gate brought upon me the first few nights. I kind of got used to it after a while and missed it when it seemed like it was not happening as often as the work on the west side of the street slowed down. Then it started up again and kept getting later and later each night.

My biggest disappointment of the yard location was the fact that what was for years the closest Christmas tree vendor one could ask for has been bumped from the spot for not only the launch box work but I assume the duration of the construction of the new station at 96th Street. Being from upstate it is hard to eat the price that the vendors sell the trees for every year, but it is even more of a hurt to have to walk up the hill a few blocks to get ripped off. On a side note this is one thing that I find to be one of the biggest cons in NYC. There is no way that anything other than demand has created the pricing structure for Christmas trees sold on the streets of New York each season. Either the City of New York is making a killing each holiday or the sellers of our tannenbaum are like Alaska fisherman and making their years salary in the month of December. Nothing justifies a more than 400% price difference in most locations in NYC from what you can get 60 miles outside the city limits.

But I digress, and apparently it is getting late, the gate just chimed 10:15. Maybe in seven to ten years the kids that have been left without a park will once again have their own place where they will be able to watch the commuters coming home from Wall Street making their way to any of the new buildings that will surely dot the landscape between now and then. And maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to walk up the street to make my yearly holiday donation.