It was October 1996 when we first came to New York. It was for an early evening gig at a venue called Wetlands, an industry shindig, where companies could come and check us out. The gig was great. We played well. Men in comfy shoes murmured.
That evening we all met in the lobby of the hotel vowing to hit the empire state building despite a giant storm engulfing the city.
The streets were deserted. The odd yellow taxi here or there but not a human in sight. Rain fell between the towering buildings in vast sheets. We ran down the middle of some wide empty avenue, screaming at the tops of our voices "NEW YOOORRRKKK" "WOOOOOAAHHH"
By the time we got to the Empire State Building we looked like we'd capsized in a wild river rapid. The man on the desk told us we'd just made it. It looked like we were the only folk in the building. No queues. No waiting.
Tickets bought,we bundled into one of the art deco elevators and headed up to the 102nd floor. The elevator doors slid open. The place was empty. We ran up to the guard and she told us that because of severe weather the viewing platform had been closed for the day. Nevertheless we ran up to the window and peered out.
There was zero visibility. It looked similar to when a plane is landing, when it goes through the cloud layer. The clouds were moving really fast past the window. The non view was of no concern. We had made it to the top of the world. Did I mention we'd had a couple of drinks before we decided to adventure...
The following morning, local news was reporting the previous nights hurricane. It was called hurricane Fran!
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