Concourse Yard

Hidden beneath the bustling streets of the Bronx, the Concourse Yard whispers tales of engineering marvels and forgotten dreams. The Concourse Yard wasn’t always a train depot. It was once the site of the Jerome Park Reservoir. Only one basin of the reservoir was ever completed. The eastern basin was partially excavated but never filled. Imagine the landscape transforming from a planned reservoir to the beating heart of New York City’s subway system. The Concourse Yard was built in a depressed cut, 18 feet below grade. This innovative design allowed for the possibility of building above the yard, a dream revisited time and again. In the 1930s, buildings were envisioned atop the yard. In the 1960s, Bronx Community College almost found a home here, perched on 800 columns between the tracks. This project was abandoned due to a construction error – the pillars were just too short! The Concourse Yard remains a testament to ambitious city planning. Even today, the potential for development above the yard persists. Borough President Ruben Diaz Jr. revived this vision in 2015, proposing mixed-income housing, retail space, and a Lehman College expansion. This is the only yard in the system constructed in this unique depressed style. This makes the Concourse Yard a peculiar example of early 20th-century industrial architecture and engineering. This yard is the home of the R68 trains serving the D line. It also washes and stores some R68 and R68A trains for the B line, along with the R142 and R142A trains for the 4. It boasts three maintenance tracks and 36 storage tracks, with a capacity of 255 cars in the yard and 30 in the inspection shed. Concourse Yard also has its own car wash, serving trains from the nearby Jerome Yard. It connects to the IND Concourse Line to the north and the IRT Jerome Avenue Line to the south. As you stand near 205th Street and Jerome Avenue, remember the Concourse Yard. It’s not just a train depot; it’s a testament to the ever-evolving urban landscape, where dreams are built, sometimes abandoned, and often reimagined.