Lenox Hill Station Post Office – New York NY

Description

The historic Lenox Hill Station post office in New York, New York is located on East 70th Street, between 2nd Ave. and 3rd Ave. It was one of many post offices in Manhattan constructed with federal Treasury Department funds during the New Deal era. The post office was initially known as New York, New York’s Station ‘Y’ until its redesignation as Audubon Station on Feb. 1, 1947.

The building’s cornerstone dates an initial stage of construction to 1935. The building is still in service.

Source notes

Building cornerstone

Project originally submitted by Evan Kalish on July 29, 2013.

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Location Info


217 E 70th St.
New York, NY 10021

Coordinates: 40.76808, -73.960103

4 comments on “Lenox Hill Station Post Office – New York NY

  1. Christine Maresca

    My dad worked here as a Distribution Clerk for 33 years (1946-1979). His name was Dante DeAngelis and some of his co-worker/friends were: John Suchanek, Sam Goldgell, Joe Marchiano and Morgan Vail. My Uncle Phil also worked for the post office (Planetarium) and retired after 30 years in 1976.

  2. Christine Maresca

    I want to add to my comment above some family poems. My dad wrote a poem for my Uncle Phil when he retired and Uncle Phil did the same for dad (a family tradition.) Here’s the one my Dad wrote in 1976:

    This party’s in honor of Philly De
    The Post Office’s latest retiree.
    At Planetarium for many a year
    Philly’s jokes brought lots of cheer.
    Some of them were “postage due”‘,
    And very few were ever new;
    But he helped to keep morale up high.
    To his fellow workers he was quite a guy.
    His coffee was strong and you can bet
    Some of the fellows are burping yet.
    Zip codes helped to speed the trip,
    But Phil was the original Mr. Zip.
    As he moved the mail with speed and skill
    The others appeared to be standing still.
    When a friend decided it was retirement time
    Phil would come up with a classic rhyme.
    He made the post office a better place.
    When it came to class, he set the pace.
    So remember Phil, wherever you are,
    You’ll always be Planetarium’s brightest star.

    Uncle Phil wrote this in 1979:

    There’s no need setting the alarm’
    Or leaving in rain or chill,
    Because after 33 years,
    Danny’s retired from Lenox Hill.

    He performed his job to perfection,
    Be if air mail, first class or cercs;
    When the postmaster replaces Danny
    He’ll be needing two or three clerks.

    Management appreciated the job he was doing
    And were happy to have him aboard.
    They showed what they thought of Danny
    With a Superior Accomplishment Award.

    John Suchanek is Danny’s best friend;
    They didn’t mind leaving the others.
    So after some thought–the solution–
    They retired together, like brothers.

    Some find it hard to retire;
    Danny’s on solid ground.
    He may not work any longer,
    But he’ll always be puttering around.

    When it comes to wood refinishing
    Danny really knows what to do.
    Give him any old piece of furniture,
    He’ll restore it to spanking new.

    Lucille got so used to routine,
    By four thirty she’s usually awake.
    So in respect to tradition,
    She gets up and bakes a cake.

    With danny distributing magazines
    We kept up with events of the day.
    But now that he’s retired,
    For our knowledge we’ll have to pay.

    Danny was always good for a laugh,
    This is not just a rumor.
    He’ll be missed by all at Lenox Hill
    Who have a sense of humor.

    Thirty three years was quite a while
    For the Post Office to have Danny aboard.
    Now he can relax, take it easy,
    And do things of his own accord.

    Danny: many your many years sin retirement
    Bring you good health, happiness and love;
    Always surrounded by your dear ones,
    With many blessings from above.

    My mom (Lucille) wrote a little poem, too, which Uncle Phil read at Dad’s party:

    DANNY, NOW THAT YOU’RE RETIRED

    Here are some rules we must enforce
    So there’s no chance of a divorce.
    I know you’ll putter here and there,
    But don’t be getting in my hair.
    My housework has to be done you see,
    So don’t be always following me.
    Dan, I want this understood,
    Be careful where you hide your wood.
    Off you go to the store,
    Whenever you become a bore.
    And if you act like a scooch,
    I’ll send you off to live with Such.

    (“Such” is short for “Suchanek”, Dad’s friend and my “Uncle John”.)

    Dad replied to Mom’s poem with a short one of his own, using woodworking terms (he loved to do wooldworking and had a closet full of tools.)

    Lucille, now that I’m retired,
    Keep on working, you’re still hired.
    Though woodworking to you may be a bore,
    I’m the nicest carpenter you ever saw.
    With this plane talk I’m on the level.
    By the way, have you seen my bevel?
    For my birthday you’ll make a hit,
    If you buy me a brace and bit.

    Dad got a Superior Accomplishment Award for his excellent work as a distribution clerk, on May 28, 1968. He got a certificate, lapel pin, and a $250.00 check.

  3. Christine Maresca

    Just one more thing to add:
    When it came to poems, Dad really had a talent. My Uncle Ray was a construction engineer. One day on the job, he was working in the trailer, and someone mistakingly thought it was empty and took away the steps. Uncle ray ended up breaking his ankle. Hoping to cheer him up a bit, Dad wrote this poem:

    I wear my hard hat evry day
    So nothing hits me off the head.
    My coveralls are three plies thick,
    My traffic vest is bright, bright red.
    My safety gloves are both approved,
    My steel toed shows are special grooved.
    But I’d trade all my safety things
    For just one lousy pair of wings;
    ‘Cause all those other safety cares
    Don’t help you when they move the stairs.

  4. Christine Maresca

    Just one more note:

    Back when dad was at the job, machines seemed to be taking over a lot of things, so he recited a little Christmas rhyme:

    Twas the night before Christmas
    When all through the station
    Not a creature was stirring:
    Automation.

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