mann of the Authority was the chief engineer and designer; Cass Gilbert,
the architect, served in an advisory capacity.

On clear days the view eastward from the bridge includes a good part of
Manhattan. Riverside Drive and the Henry Hudson Parkway, with their
constant stream of cars, are directly below; Fort Washington and Fort
Tryon parks skirt the drives. To the south the ribbons of Manhattan's
highways are lost in the thickening cluster of roofs. The funnels of great
ocean-going liners in the Hudson River docks, the smoking chimneys of
New Jersey industrial towns, the play of the sun about the Himalayan
towers of Manhattan are easily discernible.

At night the clear outline of the bridge fades into a fantasy of moving
and twinkling lights above the Hudson, while atop the eastern tower the
million-candlepower Rogers-Post Memorial Beacon sweeps its reassuring
light across fifty miles of darkened sky.

Subways and Els

New York's subway and elevated lines carry about two billion passen-
gers a year over a 281-mile network of main and branch lines in Manhat-
tan, Brooklyn, Queens, and the Bronx (see subway and el map in pocket).
The gaunt trestle-work of the els brings twilight to miles of streets, the
tunnels of the subways honeycomb rocks and rivers and skyscrapers. Their
trains are the first things a good many New Yorkers observe in the morn-
ing and the last things a good many more remember at night.

Subways

About 5,500,000 passengers are carried daily by the three subway sys-
tems. Tens of thousands more ride the Hudson Tubes (Hudson and Man-
hattan Railroad) connecting New Jersey and Manhattan. The bulk of this
traffic is borne between eight and nine in the morning and five and six in
the evening when the crowd of workers moves to and from the business
centers of Manhattan.

Typical of mid-town and lower Manhattan's rush-hour is the morning
crush at IRT's station at Grand Central. While a crowd of commuters just
arrived from the suburbs over New York Central and New Haven trains is
storming the turnstiles on its way to downtown offices, a greater crowd from
the city is pushing the stiles in the other direction, bound for work in the
Grand Central district. These intent and humorless hordes cover uptown
and downtown platforms, choke narrow stairways, swamp change-booths,