Reporter's
Notebook—By
Geoffrey
Arend
Drinking
LaGuardia
Tim
Peirce
at
the
center
of
the
entire
LaGuardia
Airport
staff
on
a
snowy
February
day
in
1978.
|
I’m
sitting
at a bar
in the basement
of the Central
Terminal
Building
(CTB) at
LaGuardia
Airport,
in a space
that used
to be home
to Manufacturers
Hanover
Trust Bank,
reminiscing
on a time
that I thought
would never
go away.
George
"Tim"
Peirce was
once manager
of the airport,
Ronnie Rapaciullo
was bank
manager,
and Danny
Radovan
was upstairs
at a restaurant
called "The
Terrace."
Kevin
Malanaphy
at United
and Andy
Roman at
Delta lit
up the universe
with style
and class.
But
now Tim
is gone.
He
died thirteen
years ago
on January
31, 2000.
Ronnie
is retired.
So
is Danny.
Both
of these
guys, I
imagine,
are living
somewhere
in Florida.
Last
time I saw
Andy was
after Delta
took over
Pan Am,
and I thought
he was a
German.
He wore
a Euro-cut
suit and
light brown
shoes, and
I discovered
then that
he was a
big shot
in DL's
European
plans.
Kevin
and dear
Pat Malanaphy
are living
somewhere
near San
Francisco.
Every
time I hear
from them,
even if
my wife
takes the
call, I
feel good
for a month.
My
friends
mean everything
to me.
So
I am sitting
in this
airport
place called
"Figs,"
watching
prosciutto
pizzas as
they are
churned
out of a
hot, brick
oven.
The
dancing
fire adds
comfort
to the high
ceiling
room and
seems to
mock the
window-wall
view of
late January
swirling
outside.
It's Bowery
Bay weather
and a queue
of aircraft
seem to
hug hard
against
LaGuardia’s
main runway.
The
feeling
from the
fire is
like the
warmth of
the sun,
and it is
with me
tonight:
I think
of Brian
Wilson’s
apropos
lyrics,
and also
recall the
Yule Log
burning
endlessly
on Christmas
Eve T.V.,0
here in
New York.
It’s
always like
this for
me during
this time
of year
in Queens,
New York.
The
ritual is
always the
same since
Tim died.
I
belly up
to this
bar in the
CTB at LaGuardia.
The
drink is
Dewar’s
White Label,
Tim’s
favorite,
and it costs
seven bucks
a shot.
The
order is
two rocks
glasses
with double
shots neat,
no ice.
The
bartender
never need
ask whom
the drink
is for—by
the time
he collects
his 28 bucks
plus tax,
I’m
already
in earnest
conversation
with Tim.
It’s
funny; these
days you
can talk
out loud
in public
to no one
in particular
and most
people won’t
think you’re
nuts.
I
think the
advent of
cell phones
has caused
people to
think that
anyone talking
to no one
is really
just wearing
an earpiece.
Maybe all
the homeless
in New York
are just
on an earpiece
with God.
Something
to think
about.
(left
to right)—Tim
Peirce,
James Brooks
and Geoffrey
Arend.
Tim
asks me
about a
big corkscrew-looking
thing hanging
from the
atrium ceiling
inside the
CTB. It
is festooned
with miniature
representations
of the Beck
Eagle that
was once
atop the
entranceway
of the CTB.
I tell him
those little
Eagles and
Dolphins
are part
of the execution
of interpretive
art.
"The
only thing
that gripes
me,"
I tell Tim,
"is
that the
stone bust
of Mayor
LaGuardia
that was
in the CTB
is now squat
in the center
of the MAT."
"We
cannot get
drunk enough
to roll
it into
Bowery Bay,"
I say. "I
remember
the day
they unveiled
it. Mrs.
Marie LaGuardia
(Fiorello’s
widow) was
in attendance,
and she
just gasped:
‘That
doesn’t
look anything
like Fiorello.’"
Now,
the corkscrew
resides
in the CTB
and the
brooding,
offensive
Fiorello
rests inside
the MAT.
"Someday,"
I tell Tim,
"I’ll
take care
of that."
"Better
not let
anybody
hear you
talking,"
Tim cautions.
"Besides,
Jim told
me just
the other
day that
Mayor LaGuardia
loved the
MAT and
pulled 'surprise'
inspections
on the place
when Jim
was painting
the mural,
even checking
out the
lavs to
make sure
they were
clean."
Jim is James
Brooks,
the artist
who painted
the enormous
"Flight"
mural in
1940-42
that encircles
the upper
walls of
the MAT
Lobby.
"So
perhaps,"
Tim suggests,
"the
bust is
meant for
the MAT."
Tim
always knew
what to
say, and
was more
than careful
while working
for a little
agency called
the Port
Authority
of New York
& New
Jersey.
He
was absolutely
masterful
at getting
things done
and knowing
what to
do when
the chips
were down.
Tim
had this
great boss
by the name
of Robert
J. Aaronson.
Bob both
knew and
understood
Tim in a
way that
most can
only hope
to be witness
to one day.
I
mention
that I saw
him recently
at The Wings
Club in
New York
and he still
looked great,
although
the moustache
was gone.
"Great
guy,"
Tim says.
"A
visionary
aviation
director
who changed
everything,
even hired
a cargo
marketing
manager,
a first
for the
country,
but always
respected
everybody
around him.
One of a
kind."
An
airplane
taxies outside
and I tell
Tim that
most of
the LaGuardia
legacy airlines
are still
struggling
with regaining
financial
power after
the financial
meltdown
two years
ago, but
because
of other
efforts
to realign
themselves
most have
finally
returned
to profit
in 2010.
"Is
Ronnie still
clearing
your checks?"
Tim wonders.
I
tell him
that I think
Ronnie retired
to Vegas
or some
place, and
we both
laugh at
that one.
Looking
around at
the fresh,
energetic
faces of
airline
people today,
we can both
agree what
a great
place this
LaGuardia
was, and
still is.
The
motto is
"The
little airport
that works,"
and "The
Passenger’s
favorite."
Once
upon a time
at a little
airport
called LaGuardia,
you could
park your
car upstairs
on the drive
deck and
get a haircut
from Ricky
the barber
at the CTB,
or go upstairs
to Danny
Radovan’s
Terrace
Restaurant
to watch
the runway
from above.
Danny
was the
perfect
host at
the Terrace,
but beyond
that, he
was also
the greatest
airport
restaurateur
anywhere
in the world.
Style,
class and
impeccable
service
matched
good food,
a great
view and
over-stuffed
banquettes
for discrete,
afternoon
libations.
"The
financial
condition
of the airlines
has prompted
an end to
food service
aboard the
airplanes,"
I tell Tim.
Tim
smiles.
He whispers
that airline
chow was
never that
hot in the
first place,
so maybe
terminal
food will
benefit
from this
change.
"How’s
Helen Marshall?"
Tim asks.
I
tell him
that Helen
was reelected
for a second
term as
Queens New
York Borough
President
but is retiring
at the end
of 2013.
"She
always had
an eye for
the people
and the
good of
the Borough.
There might
not have
been a LaGuardia
Airport
without
her.
"Back
when she
represented
the neighborhood
surrounding
LaGuardia
on the New
York City
Council,
she always
took an
even, balanced
approach
so that
both community
and airport
could get
along.
"She’s
a great
gal and
Queens is
lucky.
"And
Don Marshall?
How is he?"
Tim asks.
I
tell him
that LaGuardia
Kiwanis
is still
working
hard for
the airport,
and that
after we
spoke last
I heard
from Joan
DeCorta
who is now
happily
married
and prospering
in a life
away from
the airport.
I
remind him
that the
reputation
of the Kiwanis
Club Annual
Charity
Ball Award
as a kiss
of death
to careers
remains
intact.
The 2004
winner was
ATA and,
true to
form, about
six months
after the
party at
the LaGuardia
Marriot,
the airline
went into
bankruptcy.
Tim
makes me
promise
to stop
telling
that story.
"Remember
the clambakes
that Tony
Lima put
up on Martha’s
Vineyard
Island when
he was manager
of Air New
England?"
"You’ll
never guess
what happened
to Vince
Costanzo,"
I say.
"Last
time I talked
to him,
he was selling
bibles or
something."
"What’s
so funny
about that?"
Tim wonders.
"We
get a lot
of that
around here
all the
time.
"Pete
Gebhard
and I always
find a reason
to be someplace
else.
"I
miss Bill
Felt."
Tim says.
"We
used to
sit and
talk about
things all
the time.
"Often
as the hour
got late
at our gatherings,
sometimes
after the
annual Kiwanis
Kids Day,
Pat Felt
would sing
to all of
us in her
beautiful,
sweet voice
that I always
thought
was heaven
on earth."
"Tony
Statuto
is working
hard for
the airport
too. Ralph
and Connie
Sabatelli
are still
together
and a big
part of
the airport
family here,
and I ask
Tim how
Mary is.
"Mary
made us
all look
good,"
Tim
says.
I
tell Tim
that Kenny
Ippolitto
is still
on a bulldozer
all day
and dressed
to the nines
at night,
and Tim
nods.
Tim
recalls:
"You
could always
call up
Kenny anytime,
for anything,
and he would
come through.
"I
guess I
was kind
of tough
sometimes,
setting
up events
like Man
of the Year,
but Kenny
and all
the others
were simply
great.
"People
like Kenny
and Pam,
Dik Wesson,
Dick Allen,
Kevin and
Pat Malanaphy,
John and
Joan Zito,
Andy Roman,
Doc Herrlin,
Jessie Cromer
and others
made the
‘80s
and ‘90s
a very special
time for
the airport.
"Doc
and me talk
about that
all the
time now.
"We
were an
extended
family.
"I
wish we
were still
together,"
Tim says.
"Most
of these
folks are
in no rush
to join
you now,"
I laugh.
NBC
founders
honor
James
Brooks
(center)
the
man
who
created
the
mural
“Flight”
in
1942
for
LaGuardia
Airport’s
Marine
Air
Terminal
at
a
gala
party
inside
the
MAT
in
1980.
(Left
to
right
is
Vince
Costanzo,
Tony
Lima,
Kenny
Ippolito,
Danny
Radovan,
Mr.
Brooks,
Kevin
Malanaphy,
Tim
Peirce,
Geoffrey
Arend
and
Andy
Roman. |
"Warren
Kroeppel,
who took
over as
LaGuardia
Airport
GM, retired.
He was LGA
Manager
for eleven
years.
"He
kept your
picture
in a place
of pride
in that
little cubbie
with a sink
inside your
office atop
Hangar Seven."
"I
remember
Warren,"
Tim
says.
"He
was a bright,
rising star.
Best of
all, he
read the
airport
manager
play book
that was
developed
in 1948
by all the
Port Authority
managers."
"Warren
turned out
just great,"
I tell him.
"The
new guy
seems to
have slid
right into
the GM role,"
I tell Tim.
"Tom
Bosco, who
is a genuine
American
war hero
having served
in both
Operation
Desert Shield
and Desert
Storm, is
now LaGuardia
General
Manager.
"But
right away
he said
all the
right things,
handling
a huge airport
stopping
snowstorm
and also
addressing
LaGuardia
challenges.
"A
reporter
asked Tom:
'How
do you react
to a Zagat
survey calling
LaGuardia
the worst
airport
in the country?'
"Tom
said it
didn’t
come as
a surprise.
"'There
is some
truth to
that when
you look
at its infrastructure,'
he said.
"'We
are gonna
change that,'
Tom Bosco
said.
"Tom
also recalled
your old
mantra,
Tim.
"LaGuardia
handling
22 million
passengers
a year in
a space
of just
over 600
acres 'is
like a mini-city,
and I’m
kind of
the Mayor,'
he said.
"A
couple of
weeks a
career does
not make,
but Tom
looks like
the real
deal,"
I tell Tim.
"Tom
was at the
airport
during the
late 1980’s
right after
he joined
the Port
Authority.
Smart good
guy just
right for
LGA,"
Tim says.
"About
that Zagat
rating...
I can’t
help but
feel they
represent
a fraction
of the 22
million
that flood
to the airport
every year…"
"The
North Beach
Club (NBC)
that you
started
is still
going strong,
with monthly
meetings
happening
in the MAT,"
I tell Tim.
There
are a couple
of people
at NBC who
work hard
to keep
the spirit
of that
special
group going,
organizing
the Annual
Golf Outing
that does
so much
to support
North Beach
Club charities.
We
recall the
creation
of NBC twenty-two
years ago
that went
on to doing
nothing
more than
raise money
to give
to LaGuardia
Airport
employees
who needed
a helping
hand.
"The
idea of
airport
people helping
each other
is a notion
that should
spread elsewhere,"
Tim states.
I’m
thinking
of how much
we both
had in common
during our
twenty years
together,
and how
strong our
love for
the airport
and the
airline
business
was and
is.
Once,
we served
as polar
opposites:
Tim, the
public agency
man; Geoff,
the writer
from the
private
sector.
I think
we eventually
discovered
we were
from the
same place.
I
ask Tim:
has he seen
Pope John
Paul?
Then
we remember
the day
in 1980
when his
Holiness
visited
LaGuardia.
He walked
on a red
carpet rolled
out from
his TWA
B727 onto
the airport.
"Later,
Herb Borrelli
cut up that
rug into
six inch
squares
and gave
out pieces
to airport
employees
to commemorate
the visit,"
Tim recalls.
"I
know,"
I say, "I
still have
two pieces
in the office
filing cabinet.
"But
the best
was when
you called
me up to
tell me
to watch
the television
coverage
of the Pope's
arrival.
"There
you were
on the hardstand
on national
television,
handing
the Pope
a copy of
a book I
wrote about
LaGuardia
Airport.
"I
could read
my name
on the spine
of the book
that the
Pontiff
was looking
at and holding.
"Tim,
after I
saw that
picture,
I told everybody
I knew that
there were
two books
his Holiness
had read
for sure,
and my book
on LaGuardia
was one
of them,"
I
say, "remember
when we
did the
same thing
on the day
the Dalai
Lama landed
over at
the Eastern
Airlines
Shuttle?
"His
Holiness
was both
a good sport
and appreciative,"
says Tim.
I
respond,
"Somewhere
I still
have the
personal,
handwritten
letter of
thanks:
‘To
Geoff and
Tim Pears."
"How’s
your Mom?"
Tim
wonders.
"Maybe
you can
tell me,"
I reply.
The
fire from
the brick
oven dances
on the window
in a flighty,
orange light,
teasing
the cold
birds lying
in wait
on the runway.
"Let’s
do this
again,"
he says.
"Same
time next
year."
Geoffrey |