RHIANNON: From Pershing Square, facing Grand Central, look up and you’ll see the largest Tiffany clock in the world. MICHAEL: The Tiffany Tower clock itself is made of Tiffany Glass and it’s gold leafed. The Tiffany Tower clock's glass is invaluable. If one could imagine what a household Tiffany lamp would cost, just imagine what a 20 foot dial would cost. No expense was spared to put the grandness in Grand Central Terminal. RHIANNON: Above the Tiffany clock is a sculpture with three figures called Glory of Commerce. It was designed by the French sculptor Jules-Félix Coutan. It’s about 4 stories tall. This was a true “work from home” affair – Coutan never traveled to New York to see his creation. He designed it in France, and then sent a quarter-scale plaster model to New York by ship. The full-size piece you see up there was crafted by American artisans in Long Island City. Each Roman figure holds symbolic meaning in relation to the railroad. Let’s have a look from left to right. MICHAEL: Hercules represents strength because the railroad was a very strong industry. It helped grow the country. Mercury represented speed, the speed of commerce, the speed of transporting people and goods. And Minerva was the beauty, that we did it with style and beauty. RHIANNON: Bring your gaze down from the Tiffany clock to the bronze statue of a man standing proud and mighty, crowning the Park Avenue viaduct as if keeping watch over the Terminal. This is Cornelius Vanderbilt: The Commodore. His power pose –one arm extended, one tucked in his vest– expresses a calm pride and sense of almost king-like control. He may look like a king, but his beginnings were very humble. He was actually born into poverty. Cornelius Vanderbilt was raised on his family’s farm in Staten Island, and left school when he was just 11 years old. He began his career in transportation operating a ferry between his native Staten Island and Manhattan, and grew his shipping business with a fierce determination. When he was in his 60s, The Commodore pivoted and invested his now-immense fortune into land transportation. Meaning – the railroad. MICHAEL: He really expanded railroads as we see them today. [00:48:00] He knew that land-based transportation was the way to make a fortune. Vanderbilt, through his dealing, was consolidating railroads to form the New York Central. RHIANNON: Ten years later, the crafty, clever, and competitive Commodore controlled all direct rail service to New York City. He was a visionary, and not known for his humility. The Commodore believed that New York City should have a magnificent passenger terminal, one that would strike awe in passengers and glorify his railroad empire. When his Grand Central Depot was unveiled on this spot in 1871, The New York Times described the public’s reaction this way: “New York opened its eyes and gasped.” Just after this great accomplishment, the Commodore hit a rough patch. Following the death of his wife Sophia, Vanderbilt became interested in the occult and took up with questionable mediums. After announcing that he would marry one of them – Tennessee Claflin, whom he called “my little sparrow,” his family intervened. They set him up instead with a much more suitable match: a 29-year old distant cousin, Miss Frank Crawford of Mobile, Alabama. When the Commodore died in 1877, he was the wealthiest man in the United States with a fortune in excess of one hundred million dollars – about $2.8 billion in today’s dollars. That was more money than there was in the U.S. Treasury. He left control of the New York Central Railroad, and almost all of his fortune, to his son, William Henry. 40 years later, the next great terminal, the one we see today, would be built on this same land. And it would be a building so grand that even the Commodore might have been awestruck.