Co-operative Insurance Society Tower

There’s something wonderfully romantic about the CIS Tower. Built in 1962, this iconic skyscraper towers over the landscape of Manchester. Whilst it may have been displaced from its position of being the tallest building in Greater Manchester by that cocky upstart, the Beetham Tower, it still holds a very dear place in the heart of many of the cities residents.
I’ve always had a bit of thing for the CIS Tower. To me, it speaks of a city which no longer really exist — a monument to modernism and idealism. When I worked for the CIS during a summer break from my studies nearly ten years ago, I’d often sneak to the top floor to munch on my sandwiches whilst peeking out at the hills and vales of Derbyshire and Wales. Here, I knew exactly what my Dad was talking about when he told me that Manchester was built in a valley — which is why it always rains — and almost felt as though I could reach out and touch passing aircraft and clouds.
When I left Manchester, I’d miss seeing its sleek grey mass looming out of the mist on cold grey days, knowing that my Mum worked in HR on the 16^th floor and that she too was looking down over an ever changing city admiring the view. Whilst it could never hold a candle to the numerous skyscrapers of London and New York, I’d never seen anything like it anywhere else, and it was still an exotic and glamorous building to me.
As I’ve grown up, I’ve travelled around many places, I’ve seen many huge buildings, and have even been to the top of the Empire State Building — a piece of work which could easily eat the CIS Tower for breakfast. But for me, Manchester’s own pocket sized skyscraper is all I ever need, and to this day, whenever my train goes round the corner into Piccadilly station, and I see it in the corner of my right eye, I immediately feel safe and warm. Because I know it’s still there, and I know I’m home.