Gun Hill Road (IRT White Plains Road Line)

Gun Hill Road is an express station on the IRT White Plains Road Line of the New York City Subway. Located in the Bronx at the intersection of Gun Hill and White Plains Roads, it is served by the 2 train at all times while the 5 train provides additional rush hour service in the peak direction.

This station opened on March 3, 1917 as a bi-level station, for IRT White Plains Road Line subway service. The upper level has always been used and the lower level was used by the IRT Third Avenue Line from October 4, 1920 to April 29, 1973. The upper level has three tracks and two island platforms, while the lower level had two tracks and one wide island platform. North of the station, the lower level tracks rose and joined, making a five track line for a short distance. From west to east, they were as follows: main southbound local, Third Avenue southbound, main center express, Third Avenue northbound, main northbound local.

A refurbishing project in 2004-06 removed the Third Avenue el level and upgraded the station with a new station house at street level. It is at the corner of Gun Hill Road and White Plains Road while the original was one short block north at East 211th Street. New escalators and elevators now make this station ADA-accessible.

Famous quotes containing the words gun, hill, road, white and/or plains:

    Resorts advertised for waitresses, specifying that they “must appear in short clothes or no engagement.” Below a Gospel Guide column headed, “Where our Local Divines Will Hang Out Tomorrow,” was an account of spirited gun play at the Bon Ton. In Jeff Winney’s California Concert Hall, patrons “bucked the tiger” under the watchful eye of Kitty Crawhurst, popular “lady” gambler.
    —Administration in the State of Colo, U.S. public relief program (1935-1943)

    In the schoolyard,in the cloakrooms, the children boasted their
    scars of dried snot;wrists and knees garnished with impetigo.
    —Geoffrey Hill (b. 1932)

    The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.
    William Blake (1757–1827)

    Listen world,
    if you’d just take the time to pick
    the white fingers, the penny heart,
    all would be well.
    They are so unexpected.
    They are as good as salt.
    Anne Sexton (1928–1974)

    The Plains are not forgiving. Anything that is shallow—the easy optimism of a homesteader; the false hope that denies geography, climate, history; the tree whose roots don’t reach ground water—will dry up and blow away.
    Kathleen Norris (b. 1947)