What’s at the top of Williams Tower?
Pinnacle of Houston icon reveals some surprises
Heinrich Cronje, the assistant property manager of Williams Tower, has the keys to the kingdom. Or, at least, keys to open every door and window inside the 64-story skyscraper that sits in the middle of the Galleria neighborhood.
Built in 1983 and first dubbed the Transco Tower, the building’s iconic, lighted beacon has helped give Houstonians a sense of directional perspective for years.
At 901 feet tall and with 64 floors, the glass and steel structure at 2800 Post Oak Blvd., owned by Invesco Real Estate, is the fourth-tallest building in Texas — just behind Houston’s 75-floor JPMorgan Chase Tower, Wells Fargo Plaza (71 floors) and Dallas’ Bank of America Plaza (72 floors).
But since 9/11, the tower’s observation decks have been closed to the public. Hence this rare visit.
We meet Cronje in the lobby of the building, next to four amazing paintings depicting industry in the United States titled “The 4 Pillars of Engineering.” Some think one of the paintings depicts the construction of the tower, but to our recollection, we weren’t using horses for labor back in the early 1980s.
There are also periodic art shows in the lobby. Right now, the public can view archival photos from Russia in the early-20th century. And, this is not the only artwork on the tower campus. There is a special Houston mural painted by street artist Gonzo247 in the nearby parking garage’s break area.
Cronje first shows us the building’s somewhat secret gym on the ground floor, open for those who work in the tower.
While moving up the building’s floors — the tower is actually two 32-floor buildings stacked on top of each other — Mark Clegg, vice president of corporate communications for Houston-based realestate firm Hines, talks about the tower’s cats. If you haven’t noticed, look at the building’s angled perspective and you can see the silhouette of what looks like a sitting cat and its long, descending tail. It cannot be unseen.
Clegg says these “cats” on all four sides of the building weren’t by accident. Architects Philip Johnson and John Burgee love cats.
Our first stop after a journey on elevators is the 58th-floor “podium,” which is accessed by a small window to which Cronje has the key. Ears pop immediately upon entry, as do the eyes at the views all around.
Stepping out onto the landing, we found it’s easy to be overcome by the sight of Houston to the east. South, there is the Houston Chronicle, the cars along Loop 610 West rolling slowly through midday traffic, Greenway Plaza, the Texas Medical Center, downtown Houston off in the distance and, beyond that, the chemical plants around Pasadena. The San Jacinto Monument sticks out prominently. The Astrodome and NRG Stadium look like scale models.
It can all be seen in one view with just the turn of your head. The wind blows softly up here, and we don’t dare get too close to the edge.
Our next stop is the 62nd-floor podium with a 5-foot wall facing east.
“On a clear day, you can see past The Woodlands,” Cronje says over an increasing wind. It’s a little warmer up here and, yes, even with the day’s haze, the Woodlands Waterway can be made out — with a little squinting.
“Houston is a lot greener up here,” Cronje says as we see Memorial Park in all its glory just northeast of the tower. U.S. 290 looks positively peaceful and not the apocalyptic hell ride it is for commuters.
Next, we take another elevator and another stairway to the 65th “floor,” a garagelike space with six satellite dishes scattered throughout, the building’s window-washing equipment and the beacon that always confounds newcomers.
We don’t get a deluxe view of Houston here as it’s all covered up, but we do get to see the bottom of the beacon. A few of the people tasked with changing the bulb have etched their names into the housing. Sadly, we aren’t here on that special bulb-changing day.
According to Cronje, the beacon’s bulb has to be changed every month or so and costs $9,000. Does the 7,000-watt bulb come in a special carton like the light bulbs we use at home?
“It just comes in a big box,” he says.
But how many people does it take to screw in the light bulb that helps guide so many Houstonians?
“Just one,” Cronje says, anticlimactically.