That day, he took me to the top. He opened a steel door, and set up a 6' wooden ladder. He climbed up the ladder, and there was a 1' x 1' square that you could fit your head through. He stuck his head through, and said it wasn't that great. I knew he was playing it down, for my sake.
I asked him one more time if I could climb up and look.
He climbed down, picked me up, and he climbed the ladder, and put my head through the hole. The hole was unfinished, and it was dirty inside the space. I remember seeing a gum wrapper, and that fine construction dirt up there. Looking back it was probably Sheetrock dust.
I vaguely remember I could see the city, but the glass, or plexiglass, was dirty. It was neat though. The kids at school didn't believe me. He didn't want me to climb in, but I asked.
The best part of that day was being with my dad. We ate lunch, and my dad said, 'Well at least your mom took the wrapper off the cheese today.' (This was the late 60's, or 70's, and my mom hated being a homemaker.)