After 45 years at the same UWS address, doorman bids goodbye to his second home

Pete Rodriguez didn’t sleep well. When he woke up for work at 6 a.m. on that Tuesday, he had a bagel, a banana and an iced tea. Rodriguez doesn’t usually eat much of anything for breakfast. But this day was different — he was retiring after 45 years working as doorman extraordinaire in the same building.

On what would turn out to be the hottest day in a decade, Rodriguez, 65, walked into 900 West End Avenue, a 1926 pre-war apartment building on the Upper West Side. He put on his navy blue uniform and positioned himself by the door. 

“I got married twice, and I had this job. I had my kids, and I had this job. Growing up with all the changes in my life, and I had this job," Rodriguez said later that morning. “Other things maybe have not been stable, but this job has been stable. This has probably been the only thing in my life that has always been stable.”

Rodriguez started at the building as an elevator operator in 1980, aged 20. He became a doorman in 2001 when the elevators were automated. For all of his years working at 900 West End, Rodriguez has been a member of 32BJ, a union representing property service workers. 

“He makes everybody happy, and he’s always got something to talk about,” resident Lee Apt said. “He’s a really generous guy.”

One manifestation of Rodriguez’s cheerfulness is his booming laugh. Residents as high up as the eighth floor could tell when he was on shift because they could hear his laugh echoing up. “When I’m in my apartment and you listen carefully, you can hear his laugh and that makes the whole world better,” said Diane, another building resident.

Rodriguez grew up in public housing not far from the building that would become his second home. A longtime resident of 900 West End, Tommy Smith, remembers hanging out with Rodriguez in the neighborhood when they were teenagers. Rodriguez has always been the same cheerful person, Smith said.

Like any good doorman, Rodriguez made it his business to know the name of every tenant in the 130-unit building. The mailman, FedEx man and every dog-walker are also in Rodriguez’s internal Rolodex. 

“I leave my home to make these people happy," Rodriguez said. “I love people. I love to deal with people. And this is a good job for that, because I deal with people’s personal lives. I love to be around people; it recharges me, it gives me energy. I just want to do things for them.”

Many tenants said Rodriguez went beyond just the basics of the job — organizing packages, security and knowing residents' names. He got to know the building’s residents on a personal level. 

When Suzanne Inglis, a four-year building resident, moved in, she had recently lost a family member. She recalled talking to Rodriguez about her family and the stress of that time. “Especially, I think it was hard when my parents died, and he listened because I have a crazy family,” Inglis said. “He listened. He understood.”

Pete Rodriguez and a tenant share a hug on Rodriguez’s last day as a doorman.

Sterling Sewell/The Chief

‘They’re my family’

When Rodriguez arrived at the building that last Tuesday, a handmade sign adorned the doorman’s stand. “Peter, We will miss you! Good luck and have fun!” The script, in blue and orange, was a salute to Rodriguez’s beloved New York Mets. He often attends Citi Field games with residents of the building. 

A cup in the shape of a Mets baseball helmet held the Sharpies with which Rodriguez marked packages for residents.

Throughout the day, Rodriguez bid goodbye to dozens of the building’s tenants and collected numerous cards, which he stashed in the pocket of his uniform. 

He shared hugs with most of the residents. From longtime tenants who have lived in the building since before Rodriguez began working there, to residents who moved in less than a year ago, everyone wanted to say goodbye. Some teared up, Rodriguez among them; others just wanted to thank him. 

“They’re my family,” Rodriguez said. “I always consider them like they’re family. That’s the bottom line.”

Arlene Metrick moved into the building with her baby just three months after Rodriguez first started working there. Metrick often would leave her child to ride up and down the elevator with Rodriguez when she went to move her car on alternate-parking days. 

Charlotte Glasser, a 30-year resident, said that sometimes when her grown children came for a visit, they would be late because they were talking to Rodriguez. He has watched kids grow up, move out, and then come back to visit with their own children. 

There is a sense of community among the residents at 900 West End. People catch up with each other at every opportunity, everybody seems to know their neighbors. According to several residents, Rodriguez is responsible for that sense of community. 

“Pete is like the social worker of the building. He is a naturally gifted social worker,” said Glasser’s husband, Adrian Benepe. Tenants, he added, come down to talk to Rodriguez. “And he doesn’t just humor them, he listens to them.”

As residents passed in and out of the lobby, Rodriguez took time to introduce people to one another. When someone was new to the building, residents said, Rodriguez made sure that they knew their neighbors. On Rodriguez’s last day, kids played with their toy race cars in the lobby under his watchful eye. 

On a normal day, Andre Washington would end his daily mail route at Rodriguez’s building so he wouldn’t run late after talking to Rodriguez, which he admitted happened more than once in the more than four years he has been delivering mail and packages to the building. When Washington heard that June 24 was going to be Rodriguez’s last day, he reversed his order, and started his route at 900 West End to make sure he could say goodbye. 

“He calls me his son cause he’s 19 years older than me, and we have so much in common,” Washington said. “What I like about him is this is him, this is how he is … and as you can see, a lot of people love him.”

Rodriguez’s affability also led to a brief brush with fame. As he tells it, one night at around 10 p.m., a man in a black suit walked into his building and asked if his boss could use the bathroom.

“I hesitated and he got a little bothered by that,” Rodriguez said. “And he told me he was gonna come right back.”

A minute later, the man came back with two other men in suits, along with his boss — former President Bill Clinton.“He spoke to me like a regular person, he was a very nice guy,” Rodriguez said. “That’s one of the highlights I’ve had in my 45 years here.”

Rodriguez plans to do some traveling. The first stop is Cleveland, to see a game at Progressive Field. This will be the 16th of 30 Major League Baseball stadiums Rodriguez has attended.

Rodriguez originally planned to leave early on his last day at 2 p.m. Then 2 became 2:30, and then 2:30 became 3, and soon he decided to stay his full shift to make sure that he could say goodbye to everyone. 

A week before his last day, a party was held in honor of Rodriguez at a nearby restaurant. According to residents, it was packed with dozens of tenants and friends of Rodriguez. Benepe compared it to “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“The final scene, when the whole town comes out to support George Bailey. That happened right here at a restaurant on the corner,” Benepe said. “Every tenant came out…. There was genuine love in that room.”

As the time came to leave that Tuesday, Rodriguez reflected on his career and how he measures success.

“A successful person is someone like me, that everybody likes,” Rodriguez said. “You build up a community, a network of people. That’s being successful. Never look at the surface of people, try to see what that person’s about.”