Fodor's Travel Talk Forums - How to Dress in Boston

By John McElhenny, Associated Press writer
BOSTON -- In a nondescript gray room two floors underground, Joe Corbett flips a switch and thousands of people change their clothes.
Corbett is one of an elite group of technicians who change the color of the lighted John Hancock Berkeley tower, signaling for miles what the weather will be in three hours.

Steady blue, clear view. Flashing blue, clouds are due.
The building, once the tallest structure between New York and Canada, has been a Boston landmark since its construction five decades ago.
Its bright blue and red beacon, first lighted in 1950, has predicted the weather, announced canceled ballgames and provided inspiration for residents and visitors alike.
The Hancock tower opened to fanfare in 1949, boasting a host of superlatives: tallest building in New England; largest office cafeteria, capable of holding 1,000 people; fastest elevators, able to speed up and down at 800 feet per minute; and the largest completely air-conditioned structure in the region.
But what drew the most attention were the bright white, red and blue lights shining from atop the 26-story building, 487 feet above the city.
Part public service, part public relations ploy, the weather lights quickly became a Boston icon. They first began forecasting the weather, using predictions from a meteorological company on the 26th floor, on March 15, 1950.
Steady red, rain ahead. Flashing red, snow instead.
A month later, the lights assumed a different function: announcing the postponement of Boston Red Sox and Boston Braves baseball games. Fans knew the game was postponed when the lights flashed red.
Dan Joyce, who oversees building operations at the Berkeley tower, grew up practically in the building's shadow. "When I was a kid, we grew up in Roxbury, and we used to go out and see what the weather beacon was doing," said Joyce, now 41.
The light went dark amid the energy crisis of 1973, as John Hancock tried to set an example of energy conservation. Calls and letters of protest poured in from those for whom the light had become a steady, reassuring presence -- and a reliable weather forecaster.
John Hancock began testing the light again in 1982, and it was relighted for good in 1983.
These days, the Berkeley tower is no longer New England's tallest -- that honor belongs to the "new" Hancock tower, 62 stories tall, on which construction began in 1968.
On a recent day, Corbett sat staring at a bank of computer screens that monitors temperature, air flow and other conditions in the Berkeley tower and Hancock's five other downtown buildings.
A telephone on the wall rings, a few short words are exchanged and Corbett flicks one of two switches -- one for red or blue, the other for solid or flashing. Twenty-eight stories above, the weather light changes color.
Corbett says the pressure of flicking the proper switch -- with thousands of wardrobe choices hanging in the balance -- doesn't bother him.
Meteorologist George Stamos, of the Weather Services Corp., has been making the phone ring in Corbett's office since 1955. Stamos' Weather Services used to be located directly beneath the beacon, but has since moved out to Lexington.
"I've been in a lot of cities and never seen anything like it," Stamos said. "People do look at it, that's for sure."
"Sometimes it may change five or six times a day," Corbett said. "Sometimes they may not call for a whole week.
"It just depends on the weather," he said, with a glance at the phone on the wall.