It looks like a nightmare. Honestly, looking at those old pictures of the empire state building being built, I get a physical reaction in my stomach. Acrophobia is real. You’ve seen them: the grainy, black-and-white shots of guys in flat caps sitting on steel beams hundreds of feet above Manhattan. No harnesses. No hard hats. Just a lunch box and a terrifyingly casual attitude toward gravity.
It’s easy to look at these photos and think they’re just "cool vintage shots." But they’re actually proof of a weird, desperate, and incredibly fast era in American history. We’re talking about a project that went from a hole in the ground to the tallest building in the world in just 410 days. That’s insane. Today, it takes longer than that to get a permit for a backyard deck in some cities.
The Men Who Walked on Air
When you dive into the archives, specifically the Lewis Hine collection, you see the faces of the "sky boys." These weren't just random laborers. Most were Mohawk ironworkers or European immigrants. Hine was hired to document the construction in 1930, and he didn't just stand on the street with a tripod. He swung out in buckets over the abyss to get those shots.
The photos show "derrick gangs." These four-man teams were a well-oiled machine. One guy would heat the rivets until they were glowing cherry red. He’d toss them—literally throw a red-hot piece of metal—to a "catcher" who caught it in a tin can. Then they’d drive it into the steel. All of this happened while wind whipped around them at 1,000 feet up. If you dropped your wrench, you didn't just lose a tool. You potentially killed someone on 34th Street.
Five people died during the official construction count, though rumors often suggest more. Given the lack of OSHA, that number is surprisingly low. The pictures of the empire state building being built make it look like a miracle that anyone survived at all. You see men leaning against the mooring mast—the spire meant for dirigibles—looking like they're just waiting for a bus.
A Race Against the Chrysler Building
The speed was fueled by a massive ego trip. Jacob Raskob of General Motors and Al Smith, the former Governor of New York, were obsessed with beating Walter Chrysler. Chrysler was already building his tower nearby.
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The Empire State team used a literal assembly line process. They brought the steel in via trucks, and it was hoisted up almost immediately. The bricks—10 million of them—were handled the same way. There was no room to store materials on the cramped New York streets. It was "just-in-time" manufacturing decades before that became a corporate buzzword.
Why the Photos Look the Way They Do
The lighting in these photos is distinctive. It’s that harsh, high-contrast 1930s sun. Because the building used a steel frame with a limestone curtain wall, the photos capture the skeleton of the building before it was "fleshed out." You can see the lattice work. It looks like a giant Meccano set.
Wait, it gets crazier. Because the building was finished during the Great Depression, it was nicknamed the "Empty State Building." They had the photos, the glory, and the height, but they didn't have the tenants. It took years for the building to actually become profitable. The photos we admire today were partly a PR campaign to prove that New York wasn't dead, even if the economy was.
Realities Most People Miss
People think the "lunch on a skyscraper" photo is the Empire State Building. It’s not. That famous shot of the men sitting on a beam is actually the RCA Building (now 30 Rock).
Common mistake.
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The real pictures of the empire state building being built show a much more industrial, gritty environment. You see the narrow-gauge railway tracks they built on the upper floors to move materials around. You see the temporary water lines. It was a vertical city under construction.
The mooring mast is another detail that looks weird in old photos. The plan was to dock Zeppelins there. People would disembark, walk down a gangplank, and be in Midtown in minutes. It was a disaster of an idea. The updrafts from the building made it impossible to stabilize the airships. One ship tried it once, nearly flipped over, and the plan was scrapped. But in the construction photos, you can see the specialized reinforcement they added for that specific, failed purpose.
Looking Closer at the Details
If you study a high-resolution scan of these images, look at the shoes. These guys aren't wearing work boots with steel toes. They’re wearing leather-soled shoes that look like something you'd wear to a Sunday dinner. They relied on the "feel" of the steel under their feet.
The sky boys worked in shifts that never stopped. At the peak, they were adding 4.5 stories a week. Think about that. Nearly a floor a day. The photography captures that frantic pace. You can see the derricks—the massive cranes—being moved up floor by floor. As soon as a tier was finished, the cranes would "jump" themselves up to the next level. It was a mechanical ballet.
Technical Challenges of the 1930s
- Wind Loads: Engineers like Homer Gage Balcom had to figure out how to keep the building from swaying too much. They used a massive amount of steel—way more than we’d use today—because they didn't have the computer modeling to know exactly how little they could get away with.
- Elevators: Otis Elevator Company had to design systems that could travel higher and faster than ever before. In the construction shots, you can see the temporary lift shafts used to haul men and mortar.
- The Limestone: It came from Indiana. Every piece was numbered. The photos show it being stacked and fitted like a giant 3D puzzle.
The End of an Era
By the time the ribbon was cut in May 1931, the world had changed. The era of the "unregulated" skyscraper was ending. These photos represent the last gasp of a specific type of American bravado.
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We look at them now and see bravery, but the workers probably just saw a paycheck during a time when paychecks were hard to find. They were making about $1.92 an hour. That was good money then. But was it "sit on a four-inch beam with no net" money? Probably not.
The limestone exterior hides the chaotic steel mess you see in the construction photos. It’s a mask. When you see the finished Art Deco masterpiece, it’s hard to reconcile it with the images of men dangling over the abyss with hand tools.
What to Do With This Information
If you want to truly appreciate this history, don't just look at Pinterest clips. Go to the New York Public Library’s digital collections. Search for the Lewis Hine "Empire State Building" series.
- Compare the Perspectives: Look at the shots taken from the street versus the shots taken from the 80th floor. It gives you a sense of how the building dominated the skyline of 1930.
- Check the Background: Look past the workers. You can see the old Waldorf-Astoria being torn down in some of the earliest shots (it occupied the site first). You can see the 1930s New York harbor, crowded with ships.
- Visit the Observation Deck: If you go to the building today, they have a permanent exhibit on the construction. Standing where those guys stood—with a thick glass wall between you and the drop—puts the whole thing in perspective.
The pictures of the empire state building being built aren't just art. They are a record of what happens when human ego, engineering, and a desperate need for work collide at 1,454 feet. It won’t happen like that ever again. Safety laws, for good reason, won't allow it. But we have the film. We have the proof that for a few months in 1930, men really did walk on the sky.
To get the most out of your research, focus on the "Empire State Building Archive" at the Avery Architectural & Fine Arts Library. They hold the original blueprints and progress photographs that weren't meant for public consumption, showing the gritty logistical failures alongside the triumphs.