New York is a city of famous architectural icons. You've got the Statue of Liberty, the Empire

State Building, Times Square, but there's one for me that absolutely towers above all the rest.

For me, it is the truly iconic New York City Building. It is sleek, it is stylish. I would go so far

as to say it is alluring. It's an art deco masterpiece. And no surprise, I'm talking about the

Chrysler Building. And part of what makes the Chrysler Building so special, so stylish,

besides its steel crown with its radiating sunburst pattern, are these eight glowering heads

that jut out from the 61st floor. They're close enough that you can see them from the street,

but far away enough that you have to lean back and hold your hand up above your eyes to shade it

from the sun as you squint to look at them. Eight gleaming silver faces. I'm talking about the

Chrysler Building Eagles. Forget about pigeons. These are New York City's iconic roads.

But as much as I personally love them, there's someone who has had a much closer, more intimate,

and more dangerous relationship to the Chrysler Eagles. A relationship that very nearly landed him in

jail. Well, this is my way of saying like I'm pretty sure everything I did was technically like legal,

like I don't actually think I broke the law.

This is Atlas Obscura, a celebration of the world's strange, incredible, and wondrous places.

Today, we're going to get up close and personal with the Chrysler Eagles and meet a man

who stood astride their wings and gave them names. I'm always up for talking about about the

ladies, you know, Nellie and Marge and the rest of the gang. That's after this.

Hey folks, my name is Moses Gates. That's my name.

And what do you do with yourself, Moses?

I'm an urban planner. I work in New York City for a nonprofit. I've, you know,

been a nonprofit urban planning for pretty much, you know, most of my career. I try to come up with

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