New York's Lost World's Fair Line

Imagine a time when a blue subway train would whisk you to a station not in Manhattan, but to a forgotten utopia. That's right, New York City once offered a line built for the dazzling World's Fair, where riders would ultimately experience a glimpse into the future. But now, only traces remain. So why did these tracks just disappear? And why do whispers of this blue phantom train still linger in the tunnels beneath the city? Stay tuned to find out as today we discover New York's forgotten World's Fair Railroad. I'm your host Ryan Socash and you're watching It's History. The year was 1935. New York's Park Commissioner Robert Moses had chosen the then new Flushing Meadows Park in Queens as the site for the upcoming World's Fair. This would be no ordinary edition of the festival as the World's Fair promised a peek at the world of tomorrow with soaring futuristic rides and showcases of wonders yet to come. This wasn't just an amusement park, it was a glimpse into the future complete with ideas of utopianism and streamlined societies. The fair aimed to lift America's spirits after the Great Depression and showcase human ingenuity on a grand scale. But beneath these gleaming exhibits lurked a hidden problem. The chosen location was well out of reach for most New Yorkers. You see, Flushing Meadows Park was not always the bustling green space we know it as today. In fact, it was once a vast wetland straddling the Flushing River. The area only gained some notoriety after being featured in the Great Gatsby as the Corona Ash Dumps. Anyhow, Robert Moses, a visionary and ruthless city planner, was hell-bent on changing that perception. And hence, in the throes of the Great Depression and with the 1939 World's Fair on the horizon, he championed Flushing Meadows as the destination of what many might argue was to be a transformative affair. Its central location and proximity to major roadways made it ideal for drivers. However, this fresh start came at a significant cost. Flushing Meadows was far from Manhattan, the heart of the city. And for many New Yorkers, traveling by car was still a luxury and the existing public transportation, well, it wasn't exactly adequate. So Moses devised a daring solution, a new surface line to be fully integrated into New York's subway system with the key connection point at Jamaica Yard. This new line would be built specifically to whisk visitors directly to the fairground gates and came to be known as the World's Fair Railroad. Construction began in early 1938 and was relatively uneventful. Moreover, as the line was designed to be temporary, it was built quickly using trestles over filled in swampland. Once completed, it ran for over 8,000 feet, ending at a stub and terminal called World's Fair Station. Test runs started in April of 1939 and the line officially opened just a month later. The spur branched off at the Queens Boulevard line or modern day EFG trains, where it headed over a flying junction at the Forest Hill 71st Street Station through Jamaica Yard, along Willow Lake until reaching the dedicated independent rapid transit gate near Meadow Lake, then known as Fountain Lake. This is where visitors would enter the park to experience the World's Fair. But it's also here at this point in the story where we come upon a topic of contention. You see, the World's Fair line had no staying power and wasn't cheap to build. Originally estimated at $1.2 million, it ended up costing $1.7 million, and these fees were passed down to New Yorkers. To cover the cost, a double fair was implemented for riders on special trains, mostly the GG Local that shuttled passengers directly to the fairgrounds. The line only served its purpose for two seasons, with over 7 million riders in 1939 alone, but the fair's closure in 1940 sealed the line's fate. Despite some proposals to make it permanent, the temporary construction and regulations requiring underground lines made it unfeasible, and so it was. The World's Fair line was demolished in 1941, with almost every trace of its existence lost along the way. Although if we look at modern satellite imagery, we can imagine where the line ran and compare it to this map from the World's Fair, we can easily see where it once ran. In fact, the Forgotten Lines route is now part of the major highways in the area, with only a few signals remaining as silent witnesses to a bygone era. But the story doesn't end here. You see, many had considered this line to be a waste of money, as it was redundant. If we look at this historic map of the fairgrounds in 1939, it becomes clear that both a Long Island Railroad yard and a BMT subway station terminate directly at the main gate. Today, these facilities are known as Metz Willits Point Station and the New York City Transit Corona Yard, and it's kind of important to point out that both have existed since the 1920s and experienced major transformation before the 1939 World's Fair. In fact, Metz Point Station opened on May the 7th 1927 as a local station named Willits Point Boulevard with only two side platforms and three tracks. It was rebuilt into the current layout of three tracks, two side platforms, and a center island platform specifically for the 1939 New York World's Fair. Whereas for a side point, the overpass to Flushing Meadows Corona Park was rebuilt in the early 1940s ahead of the 1964 World's Fair. At this time, the original wooden platforms were replaced with more durable concrete slabs. So why were there three different railroads each with its own access point to the fairgrounds? The obvious answer comes down to accessibility. With all the options combined, visiting the World's Fair was an absolute possibility no matter where you lived considering the wide array of connections available. But when it comes to the redundancy factor, it needs to be pointed out that two of those companies would be on the verge of bankruptcy just a few years after the World's Fair. And so in a sense, this story really boils down to competition between the three major railroad companies of the day, each of which insistent on showcasing its direct access to the world of tomorrow. Perhaps this leaves you with an important question. How was this type of situation avoided and all the World's Fairs to follow? Well, the answer is pretty straightforward. New York purchased and unified the three companies in 1953, two of which were bankrupt, I might add. This formed the New York City Transit Authority, which ultimately became the MTA in 1968. And so from the 1950s onwards, there were no longer competing services to provide access to Flushing Meadows Park. The World's Fair Railroad, a phantom limb of New York City's subway system, now exists only in faded photographs and whispers of a bygone era. This temporary marvel, built to whisk citizens to a utopian future, vanished as quickly as the fair itself. Though the tracks were ripped up and the trussels dismantled, fragments of its story linger. And there are a few physical traces, if you know where to look. For example, a handful of modified signal lights stand guard in the Jamaica Yard. And perhaps even more importantly, several World's Fair BMT trains have been restored and are in the New York City Transit Museum's collection. The irony here about these particular carriages is that they were already antiquated by the time they were used for the World's Fair, made up of wooden carriages delivering passengers to the world of tomorrow. In fact, many of these carriages were used until 1969, when they became the last wooden elevated cars to run in North America. Now, if you're wondering what else was left behind in Flushing Meadows Park from the various World Fairs over the years, click here to watch our video on that story, and I hope you'll consider subscribing. Otherwise, until next time, I'm Ryan Socash, signing off.