From the introduction:
An urban haunted house story.
When Hotel New Yorker opened in 1930, it was one of the grandest buildings in Manhattan, its great sign shining red in the night. From gray brick, Sugarman and Berger had built a modern Aztec temple, a sentient fortress channeling the will of unknown gods. For years, the city’s glitterati gathered there to worship and pay tribute. But over time, the city grew greedy, forgetting its legacy. Pennsylvania Station, a beautiful temple of transportation and New Yorker’s lifeline, was allowed to fall into disgrace before finally being torn down, its screams echoing on Eighth Avenue. The city fell into decline.