At the U.S. Open, Hourly-Wage Ushers Corral the Well-Heeled Crowds

Arriving late to Arthur Ashe Stadium, four cocktail-cradling fans waltzed toward their courtside U.S. Open seats like it was an extended happy hour.

Then, they ran into Edwin Westley.

Mr. Westley, 80, a veteran usher, explained politely but firmly that no one gets to their place without showing their tickets. And no one can walk up to a courtside seat in the middle of a game, lest they distract the players.

The four fans groused but everyone, even the rich and famous, follow the rules at Mr. Westley’s gate. Mr. Westley, who has been working the Open for 20 years, maneuvered them into their seats, wiping them first with his green rag, unperturbed at the fans’ grumblings.

“It just rolls off your back,” he said, pocketing the rag. “A sense of humor works too.”

For two weeks a year, a narrow slice of New York’s power structure is upended as fashionable and soignée fans tramp out to Queens where they fall under the direction of New Yorkers who are barely making minimum wage.

“No one wants to get kicked out of a place they’re paying $1,000 a ticket to be in, so most fans don’t want to escalate things,” said another usher, Jason Ashby, 36, from the Bronx. He is one of several hundred people who work long hours directing and seating ticket holders in the lower sections of Ashe, as well as Louis Armstrong Stadium and several smaller courts at the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center in Queens.

The ushers are easily spotted in their blue polo shirts and white caps, which bear a patch indicating their seniority. With 20 years, Mr. Westley is number 13, for example, and Mr. Ashby with three years is number 52.