Percy & the Revson Fountain on Christmas Eve
Officer Percy
Percy exuded such genuine, mellow vibes that we became work friends without even realizing it. He was the kind of guy who could turn a mundane day into something special—thoughtful, always ready to share a smile, and a warm chat.
In December 2019, I had just transitioned from Lincoln Center to The Juilliard School as the Director of Facilities, Operations. My family arrived from England a few days later for a Christmas holiday adventure. On Christmas Eve, we found ourselves in Reynolds Bar on 57th Street, sipping cocktails. I suddenly came up with a brilliant idea —we would recreate the iconic Friends opening credits scene at the Revson Fountain on Josie Robertson Plaza!
After midnight, ten of us skipped through the crisp New York air, filled with giggles and anticipation. But as we reached the fountain, our excitement fizzled out: it was off, and we didn’t have any umbrellas—an essential prop for our masterpiece. I spotted Officer Percy in David Geffen Hall and ran over to tap on the glass, gesturing for him to let me in. With a curious smile, he opened the doors, and I quickly laid out our mission.
“We need umbrellas, Percy! It’s a Friends thing!”
He chuckled, disappeared for a few minutes, and returned armed with a colorful assortment of mismatched umbrellas. My nonplussed nieces glanced at each other, then back at me.
“Um, the fountain’s still off,” one of them pointed out, raising an eyebrow.
With a wink, I pulled out my phone and called the Central Mechanical Plant's overnight engineer. Despite no longer being on Lincoln Center’s payroll, I spun my tale.
“Al, I’m with my family from London, and they’re desperate to see the fountain in all its glory and I was wondering…” He grumbled and scowled, then relented with a knowing, “You owe me one.”
Five minutes later, 577 jets roared to life, spewing 9,000 gallons of water into the night sky. We erupted in astonished delight, laughter echoing against the stunning backdrop of Lincoln Center. My teen nephew, wide-eyed, was convinced I had mob connections.
“Wait, who did you call?” he whispered, half in awe.
He had no idea I used to work at Lincoln Center, so he thought we’d stopped at a random fountain where I made a call—presumably to the Mayor of New York City—to ask a favor that might one day be returned.
His misunderstanding made the night even more special, transforming a simple holiday into a legendary family story. As the water danced in the moonlight to the sound of singing and humming (the Friends theme song, of course), I felt a rush of gratitude—for Officer Percy, for the fountain, and for the magic of New York, weaving us all together under the shimmering lights of the Revson Fountain.
In that moment, I was overwhelmed by a love for Lincoln Center itself. This captivating cultural haven had not only embraced my family’s holiday spirit but had, over nine years, nurtured my own passion for the arts and my deepest sense of belonging.
It was, I realized, the city's beating heart—a place where cherished memories are not just made, but born from the simple act of bringing people together.
“Friends”
Me with Officer Percy and my sister, Jenny
Since leaving Lincoln Center in 2019, the composition of the operations team has changed. Many people have moved on or relocated, retired to their native countries, or, sadly, in some cases, passed away. In their place, new employees have taken on their roles, eager to prove themselves. This continuous cycle of change highlights an ongoing reality: the revolving door of institutional upkeep never stops.
This blog stands as a reminder to people and organizations everywhere: the person in uniform who hauls garbage, stands guard, climbs ladders, paints ceilings, replaces bookshelves, and installs faucets is a vital contributor to the public commons. They embody dedication, integrity, and a deep sense of purpose. They are human beings who deserve to be recognized and appreciated.
