(The New York Times posted the following article by Corey Kilagannon on its website on May 5.)
NEW YORK — Yesterday on the Upper East Side, the usual sidewalk queues formed for Sunday brunch, museum exhibits and Rollerblade rentals.
But one line, beginning at Third Avenue and 76th Street and encircling most of a city block, was made up of burly men with bleary eyes lolling about in portable lounge chairs.
The line began to form Friday morning under a sign for Local 46, the Metallic Lathers Union of New York and Vicinity. Since then, people from all over the Northeast began flocking here to the local’s headquarters for a chance to apply for union membership, an opportunity that comes every two years.
The union is handing out applications to the first 200 people in line this morning. Most have slept on the sidewalk since Friday — some directly on the pavement, others in tents with air mattresses.
“We’re not just waiting for work; we’re waiting for our career,” said Peter Bueno, 31, of Hempstead, N.Y., who arrived here on Friday afternoon, got a plastic bracelet with No. 93 and pitched a pop-up tent at Third Avenue and 75th Street directly over a grating for a hot air vent.
Robert A. Ledwith, business manager for the local, concurred with Mr. Bueno’s assessment: most of the men here who became union members would never give the job up until they retired.
The local handles workers who lay the steel bars that reinforce the concrete in buildings, and it is one of the best-paying union jobs around.
“Our guys make $38 an hour, $62 if you figure in the benefits,” he said, adding that some members can retire at age 55 with a comfortable pension.
It is hard work, often done high upon buildings under construction.
Even though the economy has slowed construction in the New York area, officials in this 1,200-member union are optimistic that enough work will remain to provide jobs for 200 more members.
Mr. Bueno said that Friday night was so cold that he bought himself a tent at a nearby store. He and his fiancée, who agreed to wait the entire time with him, set up housekeeping.
“They see us waiting here the whole time, and they see that we really want the job,” said Mr. Bueno, currently doing freelance construction work for a small contractor.
Again, Mr. Ledwith concurred, explaining that the union’s policy of awarding applications to these intrepid sidewalk campers was something of an informal weeding-out process, since it takes a dedicated and hearty person to camp out on a New York City street for three days and nights.
The line stretched along Third Avenue, in front of several upscale clothing boutiques. Hunkered down for three days, many of the men passed the time by chatting or by playing poker, dominoes or board games. Other men watched the Mets game on battery-powered televisions and sampled the local delis and pizza parlors. Still others engaged in that favorite of male construction worker pastimes, girl-watching.
Several pairs of men played intense games of chess and a group of men farther back in line, on East 75th Street, played Monopoly. One of them, Kenrry Marte, 21, from the Bronx, was winning. He owned Boardwalk and had built the only house of the game so far, on North Carolina Avenue.
Mr. Ledwith said that each applicant takes a general comprehension exam, a drug test and sits for an interview. Then the applicants who make the grade are told to report to the hiring hall, where they will soon begin working as paid apprentices.
As he spoke, a woman in a blue bonnet approached and asked him if these were homeless men waiting on a food line, “because they look like they’ve been here so long.”
“These men are waiting to join our union,” Mr. Ledwith said. “These are the men who are going to be putting up the buildings in this city.”
Michael Natale, 20, of Brooklyn, arrived Friday morning and got No. 11. Yesterday afternoon, he lay back in his beach chair under a mural near the headquarters entrance of ironworkers laying the steel for the great buildings of New York City.
“I’ve gotten no sleep, and I’ve read every newspaper front to back,” said Mr. Natale, who recently quit his job as a union electrician for a chance at a job with Local 46.
“You can make twice as much on this job,” he said. “I even heard guys saying they got laid off Friday and came straight here to wait.”
Union officials handed out blue plastic wristbands bearing numbers, to indicate places in line. To prevent cheating, officials took attendance on the line every few hours and taped it with a videocamera. By yesterday, several people with bracelets had already quit the line, so union officials announced that they would offer applications to bracelet-holders through No. 213.
This brought a smile to Bismillah Duran, 22, a supermarket cashier from Brooklyn who arrived on Saturday and got No. 205. He slept Saturday night on his inflatable mattress on the sidewalk.
The rear of the line ran next to the sidewalk cafe of Orsay on Lexington Avenue, where well-dressed diners eating goat cheese salads and salmon soufflés tried to ignore the would-be construction workers cheering on the Mets.
Several dozen people showing up yesterday were told they had little chance, including George VanAndern, 43, a construction worker from Greenhaven, N.Y.
“There goes my shot at seven-hour days and full benefits,” he groaned. “I figured if I came a day beforehand, I’d be early. But coming Friday morning, that’s just crazy.”