Escalators, Elevators & Such by Jane Vest

My love affair with escalators began a long time ago when I was a child indulged by a fond aunt who took me with her on her shopping trips into the city. The little metal steps lifting me from one department store floor to another fascinated me, and I rode them until aunt said, "Enough!"

Then I graduated to elevators. How imposing they were. The doors parted, a metal gate was pushed aside, and we entered a metal enclosure. The elevator operator stood in the corner, presiding over a mechanical device. The operators moved some levers, the outside doors shut, the metal gate was closed, and the elevator started with a bump. We stopped at a floor whose number was announced and the list of articles for sale on that floor was given by the operator. People got out of the elevator and the process started all over again. Elevators finally became more up-to-date. No more gates, double doors or elevator operators, though some office buildings and hotels retained the operators. Self-service took over - push buttons for the floors you wished to get off at.

Once, I almost gave up on escalators. My high school friend thought I might like to ride the second longest escalator in the world. We took the Metro in Washington, D.C., and got off at the Roslyn, Virginia, station, and there it was -- three stories high, narrow, with steps that slightly rocked as we rode up, and empty space all around. I should have opted for the nearby elevator!

Elevator rides were not always that smooth, either. In Hamburg, Germany, I was introduced to an elevator in an office building. It was called the Pater Noster, the two Latin words at the beginning of the Lord's Prayer. The "elevator" was a cubicle in a walled-in space, with no doors, no attendants. Automatically regulated, it rose on cables to the floor I was on, without stopping. I either had to jump on or step in, depending on how fast I could move, and do the same to get off on the floor I wanted. Hence the reference to the Lord's Prayer. I could never figure out what happened to the cubicles at the top floor and how they became "down elevators." Needless to say, I used the stairs.

The most innovative in indoor transportation was the moving sidewalk which I discovered at the 1967 World's Fair in New York City. The Italian government built a small pavilion in which to house the Pieta by Michelangelo. To keep the spectators moving and still be able to see the statue, we stepped onto a conveyor belt which slowly glided in front of that magnificent statue with enough time to look and then exit. I went through twice!

But the ultimate in indoor transportation is the chair lift which glides from the bottom of the stairs to the top of the stair well. It is a convenience for those who cannot climb stairs because of injury or infirmity. We've come a long way from ladders. What's next?