New York_ The Novel - Edward Rutherfurd [373]
And if Walter Chrysler thought that his clever, stainless-steel spike was going to leave him king of the New York skyline, then he’d better watch out. The Empire State Building was going to top it, and soon.
Salvatore had been working with the same team of bricklayers for the last couple of years. They went from site to site together, and were known as a good gang. They all got along, but sometimes, for all that had happened between them, he missed the days when he and Angelo were working side by side.
His eyes searched the street again. He was waiting for news of Angelo now.
The site was organized to perfection. In order not to disturb the residents of Fifth Avenue, the roadway was always kept clear. Every morning, on a strict schedule, the trucks swung into the site from one street and left by the other, while their loads were hastily raised to the floor where they were needed.
The materials came from so many places. The big T girders from Pittsburgh, limestone from Indiana, timber from the Pacific coast, marble from Italy and France, and when those suppliers couldn’t keep up, the contractors had bought a whole quarry in Germany.
Most dramatic of all was the speed of the work. As the vast steel framework climbed steadily into the sky, the bricklayers and stonemasons followed right behind it. The Empire State Building was going up almost a floor per day.
Just then, a few floors up and to the left, a large iron girder swung silently into view. Sitting astride it were a couple of men.
“There go the Injuns,” one of the gang remarked.
There were scores of Mohawk Indians on the site. Whole families of them had learned their ironworking skills on Canada’s bridges half a century before. Now they had come down from their reservation to work on the skyscrapers of New York. Salvatore liked to watch the Mohawks sitting calmly on the girders as they were swung up to dizzying heights in the sky. There, they guided them into the building’s mighty frame, where the riveters, working in teams of four, went about their deafening work. The Mohawks and the riveters were some of the most highly paid men on the site.
Salvatore’s own pay as a bricklayer was excellent: more than fifteen dollars a day. Most important of all, he was employed. For there were plenty of good men who couldn’t find work, these days.
It was a strange irony. Just as the Empire State Building had started to go up, America itself had begun to stagger. The country wasn’t hit by another stock market crash—there was no sudden crisis—but like a boxer who has taken a series of heavy blows, and starts to lose his legs, the mighty American economy had finally begun to sag.
From its April high, the stock market had given up its new year rally. Each day, as the Empire State Building went up another floor, the market went a little lower. Not a lot, just a little. But day after day, week after week, the market kept on falling. Its defenses were down; it had given up the fight; it no longer saw any reason to rise. By summer, credit was getting tight. Companies were laying people off; companies were failing. Quietly, steadily, it just went on and on.
Of course, many people declared that things would soon get better, that the market was now undervalued, and the economy still sound. Like seconds in the corner, they were shouting at their man to keep his gloves up. But their man was giving ground, and he seemed to have lost his heart. Wherever jobs were to be had, there were long lines waiting for them.
At eleven o’clock, Salvatore noticed a silver Rolls-Royce passing down Fifth Avenue. He remembered the lady with the silver Rolls who’d once taken him and Anna to Gramercy Park, and wondered if it was the same person.
As it happened, it was. Far below, Rose had just remarked to a friend: “When I think of my poor Mrs. Astor—and I mean the Mrs. Astor, of course—and that hotel they put on her house … Well, that was bad enough, but now they’re building this huge, dreadful thing …” She turned her head away from the site. “I won’t look at it,” she declared.
When lunchtime came,