Weather: Watch out for wind on this mostly sunny day. Expect a high near the upper-40s.
Alternate-side parking: In effect until Monday (Martin Luther King’s Birthday).
When Speaker Nancy Pelosi was putting together her list of prosecutors who would build the House Democrats’ case for removing President Trump from office, she set her eyes on two New Yorkers: Representatives Jerrold Nadler and Hakeem Jeffries.
Mr. Nadler, the chairman of the House Judiciary Committee, has been a thorn in Mr. Trump’s side since the 1990s. Mr. Jeffries is known as one of the Democrats’ top messengers; his rhetorical skills were honed while working at a corporate law firm in New York.
The congressmen are among the seven impeachment managers who will help take the case to the Senate.
What the congressmen will be doing
Mr. Nadler and Mr. Jeffries will play the role of prosecutors in the impeachment trial, which will be overseen by Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. The Senate will act as the jury.
Essentially, the managers will argue in favor of Mr. Trump’s removal from office. The president, who is accused of abusing his power for his own political gain and obstructing Congress, has called the impeachment inquiry a “witch hunt” and a “sham.”
The trial is most likely to begin in earnest next week.
Their connections to New York City, and Mr. Trump
Mr. Nadler, 72, is originally from Brooklyn and the son of a chicken farmer. Elected to Congress in 1992, he represents part of Manhattan and has earned a reputation as a talkative civil rights defender.
Mr. Nadler’s relationship with Mr. Trump has been adversarial since he opposed a Trump Organization redevelopment plan in the 1990s, when the future president was best known as a real estate developer.
In 2017, Mr. Nadler said that Mr. Trump was “legally elected but is not legitimate.”
The congressman, who has also pursued investigations of Mr. Trump’s immigration policies, had pitched himself as the “strongest member to lead a potential impeachment.”
Mr. Jeffries, 48, is similarly outspoken, saying hours before his vote to impeach the president, “In America, no one is above the law.”
He won a seat in the State Assembly in 2006 and was elected to Congress in 2012. His district covers parts of Brooklyn and Queens.
He is viewed by many Democrats as the person who could become the first black speaker of the House.
What’s at stake for the congressmen
I asked my colleagues Catie Edmondson and Nicholas Fandos, who cover Congress, how the trial could affect Mr. Nadler’s and Mr. Jeffries’s political careers.
“Being named an impeachment manager will obviously thrust both of them into the spotlight,” Ms. Edmondson said.
Mr. Fandos added that strong performances during the trial “could boost both lawmakers to previously unknown national acclaim.”
“The exposure fighting against the president could also prove helpful among their liberal constituencies at home,” he said, “particularly for Mr. Nadler, who faces a primary fight this year.”
A view of Grand Central Terminal’s main concourse in 1959. Throughout the decades, the terminal has played host to harried travelers, awe-struck tourists and copious events, like today’s table tennis tournament.
From 1 p.m. to 4 p.m., table tennis teams will use the terminal’s Vanderbilt Hall for three hours of matches inside a glass cube. The teams are raising money for Big Brothers Big Sisters of New York City, which provides mentoring to children. Commuters and visitors can watch for free.
It’s Thursday — keep your eye on the ball.
Metropolitan Diary: Breaking away
It was May 1983. I was one of about three dozen high-school seniors from a small town in the Upper Midwest who had been raising money for five years for a class trip: a week in New York City.
Like a parade of excited country ducklings, we dutifully trailed our chaperones from one attraction to another, never allowed to stray from the hovering adults’ oversight.
But as we left the World Trade Center’s observation deck, we were given an hour’s freedom to find dinner on our own before meeting our bus to go to the Broadway musical we had tickets to that night.
Most of the group went off together for fast food, but I didn’t want to waste the opportunity. I strolled down the sidewalk in a direction chosen at random, gawking like the bumpkin I was.
Unfamiliar, delicious aromas came out of an open door. I walked in and stood staring at the menu board. I didn’t recognize anything except the names of the soft drinks.
The man behind the counter was thin and bearded and he was wearing a stained apron. In a heavily accented voice, he asked what I wanted.
“I don’t know,” I stammered. “I don’t know what anything is. Give me what you think I should have.”
He handed me a loaded plate.
I reached for my wallet.
”No,” he said. “No pay. You eat. You like, yes?”
I think that the expression on my face, after a first tentative bite, must have answered him sufficiently. He laughed and turned away.
I don’t recall which show we saw that night. Much of the trip has faded and run together in my memory. But a bite of a really good gyro can still take me back across the decades to that late spring day.
— Nita L. Lewis