Evening star., 1948-07-05

The best proof Henry MeLemore.
of the love a New Yorker has for
the Wonder City" comes on a holi-
day such as today. Given a chance
to escape his beloved city. he makes
tracks for anywhere. The crowds
in Grand Central Station, Penn
Station, and the bus terminals are
almost unbelievable. Many New
Workers even buy tickets for Ho-
boken, N. j., which is city that is
just about the end of the world
insofar as charm is concerned.
Tunnels Are Choked.
The tunnels leading from New
York are choked with the cars OF
New Yorkers fleeing the Magic
City" So are the bridges and the
ferries and the parkways. Those
few New Workers who don't have
the money to get out of their be-
loved city on holiday go into
hiding, because to a New Yorker
there seems to be no greater shame
than to be seen in his town when
he has been given the opportunity
to get out.
AS far as I am concerned, this
holiday exodus makes for a great
New York. No city is lovelier or
more enjoyable than when it is not
overrun with New Workers. The
great thoroughfares such as Fifth
avenue and Park avenue are all but
deserted and walking or driving
down them is a thrilling pleasure
instead of the dance of death" 1t
usually is.
A man can stroll about Times
Square, getting lift from the
worlds mightiest electrical display
without all but having his clothes
torn from his back by the hurry
ing, heads-down, charging tens OF
thousands of people. He can view
Wall street, man-made Grand
Canyon, in quiet and peace, and
he can walk New York's endless
little streets, all of which are filled
with a lovely mixture of the gentle
past and the spirit of 1948, without
being showed off the sidewalks by
scurrying folk.
Holiday Is Quiet.
On a holiday, with millions OF
New Yorkers out of town, a marve-
lous quiet descends on the worlds
greatest city. 1t is as if a giant
suddenly quit his snoring and toss
ing and went to sleep. Taxis are
few, and their raucous horns don't
split the air. The subways cease
their mad schedule, and their rumble
softens to what is almost lullaby
for New York. The green and red
traffic lights, especially at twilight,
take on the appearance of a gigan-
tic ruby and emerald necklace, and
no longer appear to be calling hurry
hurry-hurry. get across the street
before you get killed.
Just about the nosiest thing In
New York on a holiday is a guide OF
sightseeing tour as he spiels to
his customers in glassdomed bus.
I took a tour, even though I lived
here, off and on, for Is years. What
a line that guide had! Speaking
through a loudspeaker. he told Of
the gangster who was shot down on
this corner; of the man who made
millions by buying this corner for
$1,000 and selling it few years
later for a cool million. Scarcely
pausing for breath, he told of the
broken hearts of Broadway, the
pomp and circumstance of Park
avenue, the blood that had run in
the cutters of Hell's Kitchen, and
everything else that came to his
mind. All for two bucks-fifty a
throw.
Honesty makes me admit that I,
too, think it the top town in all
the world.
You can take the country out OF
a country boy, but you can't take
the New York out of country
boy once he has seen part OF it.
Distributed by McNaught Syndicate, Inc)