The Staten Island Historian

I just came across the site for our borough's own historian. The Staten Island Historian, is an unpaid post that was occupied by the late Dick Dickerson for many years. The new man, Tom Matteo, has got a nifty website going but it left me a little disappointed. He's got the same NYPL Digital Collection links I've got but he doesn't offer any additional information. One of the drawbacks of the NYPL's collection is that there's too little detail about the pictures. Too many give little real indication of their locations and dates. I was hoping the Borough Historian would have access to information the rest of us don't.

Nonetheless, there's plenty of great stuff on the page and it does bring the NYPL pictures together by easily searchable categories (ex. churches, schools, etc.). Definitely worth examining.

Upcoming Things

Work and labors for my upcoming wedding have prevented me from getting out and getting the pictures I need to show in contrast to the olde-timey postcards and photos. Be happy with these little tidbits for the moment and I'll get something more substantive done over the weekend.

Why I Do This

The first inkling of what would become the present version of Ape Shall Not Kill Ape came about when I saw the following poster:



The utter dumbness of the ad and the cheap shade of orange reminded me of so many ads of my youth that I was compelled to get a picture of it. Then I was faced with what should I do with the picture. I've got lots of pictures tucked away in various directories on my computer that just sit their in digital silence and are eventually forgotten. WondeRoast demanded more of me than oblivion.

I remember the reds, blues and oranges of the window ads and sale signs in the five and dime stores of my youth: Woolworth, of course, but also Kresge's, W.T. Grant's, Kress', McCrory's and Lamston's. My mom would go off shopping for socks or whatever and I'd wander the toy aisles and pet section. That silly WondeRoast ad managed to rekindle some of those odds and ends of my memory and I owed it something for that little blessing.

So here's WondeRoast. It hangs in the northfacing window of La Mexicana Deli and Grocery on the corner of Broadway and Cary Avenue in the poorer section of my own neighborhood of West New Brighton. Hey, it might even be good.

What I've Read Since January, 1, 2008

Reeve, Philip Starcross
Carroll, Lewis Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Carroll, Lewis Through the Looking Glass
Chesterton,G.K. The Everlasting Man
Pushkin,Alexander The Queen of Spades and Other Stories
Durrenmatt, F. The Pledge
Lewis, C. S. The Weight of Glory
Bloom, Harold Novelists and Novels
L'Engle, Madeline Walking on Water
Powers, Tim The Drawing of the Dark
Burke, James Lee Crusader's Cross
Burke, James Lee Pegasus Rising
Burke, James Lee Tin Roof Blowdown
Lehane, Denis A Drink Before the War
Lippman, Laura The Power of Three
Higgins, George V. The Friends of Eddie Coyle

To the Center of the Earth

THE CAUSEWAY AT SILVER LAKE PARK

In 1980 and 1981, New York City suffered one of the greatest droughts in its history. Its reservoirs dropped to around a quarter of their capacity and Ed Koch popularized the beautifully cheesy "if it's yellow let it mellow, if it's brown flush it down". As a fourteen year old it really didn't seem to have any bearing on me whatsoever. However, it did lead to one of the coolest adventures my friends and I ever had.

For one reason or another we wandered into Silver Lake Park on our way back to my friend Alex's new house on Howard Avenue after a trek down Victory Blvd. to Luke & John's Deli for sandwiches. It was the start of summer and Alex and I had just finished our freshman years.

When we entered the park we were startled to see that the lake's level had dropped an easy six or seven feet. It was amazing. The sides of the causeway were exposed and we could see the place beyond the stone shoreline where it dropped off to the lake bottom. We had to get closer and see whatever else there was to see.

We went down to the lake and climbed the low black fence that borders it went down to the water's edge. We started walking along the shore skipping stones and looking for anything that might be considered cool. About fifty feet from the north side of the causeway on the lake's east side we found the sort of thing we hoped to find - a concrete tunnel.


AS IT LOOKS TODAY - THE TUNNEL ENTRANCE SUBMERGED

The tunnel appeared to run eastward from the lake into the heart of the hill that rose up from the shore and to Victory Blvd. Under that hill was the actual reservoir (the lake itself is merely decorative) and who knew what else.

We ran to Alex's house and grabbed flashlights. We got back to the lake as fast as we could, switched on our lights and entered the tunnel. We didn't go that far the first day. Our lights weren't that illuminating and the tunnel seemed endless. Its ceiling was high enough for all to stand in but only wide enough for us to be comfortable if we went in single file. We walked into the hillside only far enough to know we'd need to plan more thoroughly and be better equipped.

That night we planned our big incursion into the Silver Lake tunnel. We got big dry cell battery flashlights and rope. We didn't know where we'd actually need rope but it always seemed to indicate that whatever you were doing was going to be serious. We also got markers so we could leave signs to keep from getting lost and a crowbar to break things if needed.

The next day we undertook our great expedition. There was myself, and my three friends , Alex R., Jesse B. and Jim D. We went around noon time when the sun was high and rest of the world was at work. There were some adults swimming and sunning themselves around the tunnel entrance but they clearly didn't care about what we were doing.

With a rising sense of excitement we walked into the tunnel. Now well lit, the tunnel revealed itself to be a bare, cement construction that ran in a straight line into the hillside. We walked for about ten mintues, keeping a slow pace so as not to be surprised by anything, before the we came to the stairway.

Rising up at the end of the tunnel was metal staircase with grating levels. We, of course, started walking up them.

I don't remember how many levels we climbed but memory makes it seem like a lot. Finally we came to the top of the stairs and into a concrete gallery. There were metal rungs set into the wall facing Victory Blvd. leading to a metal hatch in the gallery ceiling. Towards the lake side of the room the wall only went up to our waists. With our flashlights in hand we looked over the wall and I think we all gasped.

Like I said, the hill housed the real Silver Lake Reservoir. I have slight memories from my childhood of construction going on the park but this picture does better justice to what's under that hill than anything I can describe - - -


UNDER THE HILL

Even with our big flashlights we couldn't see to the other side of the reservoir. We were basically where the bulldozer is in the picture above. The holding tanks are vast and silent and our lights made only the slightest dent in the dark space. Moved by the scope of what we were seeing I decided to commemorate the moment by writing my D& D character's name on the wall. Today there's probably still a little chalk scratching proclaiming that "Alzhak was here".

The final stage of our inward journey was to climb the rungs. I mean if there's a ladder at the end of a journey you can't not climb it. We assumed that the ladder would bring us into the control house and we were right.


THE CONTROL CENTER

The hatch in the gallery ceiling was silver colored and lifted right up when Jim pushed it. The rest of us were right behind him. We found ourselves in a control room with panels with meters and dials. Gaguges monitoring the water level and quality hummed with quiet electrical life and little lights blinked on the consoles in seeming random sequences.

Then the alarm went off and we hightailed it out like cats with their tails on fire. I'm not sure if the alarm had anything to do with us or with problems caused by sewer work going on out on Victory Blvd. but we quite sensibly assumed it was our fault and we climbed down the ladder, flew ourselves down the stairs and hightailed it down the tunnel as fast as we could managed without killing ourselves.

When we got back out into the light the adults asked us if we saw anything cool. We told them heck, yeah.


We went back the next day hoping to repeat the previous day's undertaking and spend more time in the control room but it wasn't to be. When we got to the top of the stairs we could see that the hatch was open. Before we even climbed out into the gallery a guy stuck his head down and told us not to move. Which we did. We were out of the tunnel even faster than the day before.

We went back one more time a week later and found that the tunnel had been sealed forever. Thick metal bars had been installed in the tunnel mouth and cemented into place. We had been thwarted by the city from carrying out any new expeditions.

Coming Soon - Beneath the Earth

Later today I hope to post pictures and a story about one of my more noteworthy adolescent undertakings.

Gary Gygax - RIP

My friend's brother went to school in Wisconsin and discovered Dungeons & Dragons in its early pamphlet form. My friend brought the books along on our Boy Scout camping trips, showed them to me and even reffed a few loose games. I'd already read "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings" and coupled with the beautifully terrible illustrations of such wondrous things as Owl Bears and Black Puddings, I was hooked.

Eventually I stopped playing D&D. My buddies and I took our role-playing too seriously to stick with such a flawed and restrictive system. We moved to SPI's Dragonquest before settling on the HERO System. Our games became more engrossing and more complex. Looking back over my shoulder, though, I think that had more to do with our growing up and maturation than a different game system. For all the fun we had after D&D I don't think I ever recaptured that early falling in love with becoming submerged into games that were as much fairy tale as Howardesque sword and sorcery.

A socially misfit, fanboy, geek never had a such a friend as the man who created fantasy roleplaying. So thank you Gary Gygax and rest in peace.

Cool SIRT (Staten Island Rapid Transit) links

When I was a kid, my mom would take me and my sister to New Dorp to go shopping or in the summer see a Disney matinee at the Lane Movie Theater. Since we didn't drive we'd catch the old 103 bus in front of Trinity Lutheran Church at the foot of Cebra Avenue or we'd walk down and catch the train in Stapleton. Mostly she opted for the convenience of the bus but I remember plenty of rides on the old trains with wicker seats and conductors collecting fares.

When I was older my friends and I took to long, exploratory hikes around the North Shore. One of the coolest ones took us along the abandoned overpasses of the South Beach rail line. Now they've been pulled down and the old right-of-ways have been filled with houses.

So here are some pictures from several different sites. All are worth spending some time with and any native Islander should have some memories tugged by some of them.



Third Rail's SIRT issue

Forgotten New York - SIRT photos

Joe's SIRT photos

Someone else's cool SIRT photos

New Link

There's a new link on the page. It's for the NYPL's "Staten Island on the Web" section. I forgot to put it up last time so here it is. There's lots of fun stuff to be found. I was particularly looking for photos of the Bethlehem Ship Yards in Mariner's Harbor building destroyers during WW II but they're gone. Someday, maybe, I'll find them again and put them up.

Postcards by Grimshaw

So I found out about the postcards. All I had to do was type "W.J. Grimshaw" and postcards into google and it took me to the Grimshaw family page. I always feel extra stupid when it takes me a week to actually do the five seconds of work needed to solve a problem or answer a question.

William Grimshaw was born on October 14, 1830 in Accrington, Lancashire and emigrated to the U.S. in about 1847. After living for a brief time in Pennsylvania, he moved to Bordentown, New Jersey where he apparently married Emily Brown in 1853. After living there for more than 20 years, the family relocated to Staten Island in 1873, where William was engaged as a carpenter for the remainder of his life. William and Emily had at least four children -- William J., Frank P., Lamar C., and Margaret Grimshaw. William died in 1905 and Emily passed away in 1908. William's oldest son, William J., operated a stationery and confectionery business that became later focused on selling ice cream when it was first introduced.

Now Mr. Grimshaw and his son's postcards are collected for our pleasure on the NYPL's Digital Collection pages. I've said it before, check them out.

Richmond Terrace Apartments - the present

So here's the other building shown in the postcards posting. If the Prospect Gables have seen better days, then this place REALLY has seen better days.

It sits at the foot of York Avenue and Richmond Terrace. I'd wager that the postcard was created back when the Jersey Street area was still a thriving working class commercial strip for the surrounding homes on Westervelt and York. There was at least one synagogue, a Polish Catholic church and all manner of shops. There was a public school, PS 17, and supermarkets.

When I was a boy the area was already on the way down. The A&P closed and many of the old tenements were abandoned and sank into ruin. In the later 70's the school burned down (though there was already another school nearby). The Richmond Terrace Public Houses had gone from being a diverse working class bastion to a place where the hardworking tenants were force to live cheek by jowl with individuals of the least reputable sort.

Now the area has achieved a stasis. In the early 80's I watched several blocks of old building be torn down and replaced with little attached homes. The commercial strip of Jersey Street between Pauw Street and Castleton Avenue struggles on. Working class families have reclaimed many of the older homes on the streets branching off Jersey and there's been a stabilizing effect on the whole neighborhood. Despite all that, the Jersey Street environs are still a marginal place with more crime than much of the rest fo the Island and general shabbiness that never seems to go away.

Later criminals began preying on the neighborhood and

Prospect Gables Redux

Located only a few houses and across the street from the albatross that is the home I purchased two years ago and still can't live in, the Prospect Gables have clearly fallen down on their uppers. I feel like I remember seeing the Gables with their fanciful roof top adornments still intact but I could have taken crazy pills. You can clearly see the once painted patterns used to create the fake Tudor effect in the postcard picture. The old concrete stanchions are still visible at the bottom left of the picture. The lower story windows are bricked up today, probably a reminder of the neighborhood's less criminally averese days.

I still am puzzled by the postcard's existence but I'm thankful for it. These postcards (and the NYPL's easily accessible collection) will give me things to write about whenever I run out of my own trite ideas.

Postcard from New Brighton

These were real postcards printed at some distant time in Staten Island's past. Both building still exist (with modern pictures forthoming) and have suffered considerable aesthetic deterioration and their blocks have tumbled down the economic ladder a few rungs. There also continues to be no reason for the postcards to exist. Perhaps I can do little research on the history of postcards of such everyday domiciles. I mean it's cool to be able to send a painted picture of your house to friends and family but it just doesn' make any sense.

New Links

I added a bunch of new links today. The first two are the most valuable but all have good things contained within.


Forgotten New York is one of the coolest sites for pictures of the five boroughs bar none. It's creator, Kevin Walsh, has been doing hist site for ten years and recently he wrote a book called "Forgotten New York". Go to the "Street Scenes" section and check out the Staten Island articles. The man's collected some amazing things and gathered good information.

The New York Public Library Digital Collections is a great picture resource. Just enter what you'd like to see in the search and go for it. Unfortunately there's not a lot of good information attached to the pictures. Sometimes there's a note scribble onto the image or there's a caption indicating date or location but more often than not it's all a little vague.

The last two sites are similar to my own. They're personal sites with things of special interest to their creators. Nonetheless, for the interested Staten Islander they do provide a wealth of interesting pictures from across the decades. They also have their own sets of links to other Staten Island biased sites. Check them out and if you find fun sites on your own, let me know and I'll put up a link.

Old Church Building

It's still a beautiful neo-Gothic structure. There's some minor changes (the old steeple spires are missing (which is not visible in my mediocre picture) and there are windows over the bell openings), but it's still the same building from the postcard. Reading about Zion's history from there website, I discovered the building was opened in 1921. The congregation had started as a simple Norwegian Sunday school meeting in a building on Avenue B (which was just torn down) and had finally reached the point they could afford to erect a real church. Then a mere forty-three years later they moved on to the lifeless structure on Watchogue Road.

Zion Lutheran Church

I guess that Zion Lutheran moved to its present location in Westerleigh from Port Richmond in the mid sixties because they wanted a larger building and many of its parishoners had moved to that neighborhood. Whatever the reasons, who'd want to trade this beautiful gothic building for this lifeless example of modern architecture?

The old Scandinavian Lutheran Church is now St. Philip's Baptist Church and appears to be maintained in good condition. It is one of several churches in the area and one of the two directly along the park that once formed the heart of one of Port Richmond's nicer residential sections. I forgot to get a picture of the building's present condition (because I'm a dope) but I'll put that up next.

Same House - Different Picture

So here's what the house looks like today. It's a pretty little house that's been kept up rather well. You can see that the clapboard sheathing has been replaced with wider boards and the decorative trim at the top of the left hand chimney is gone but it's still a splendid reminded or Staten Island's long ago Dutch settlement.

Van Santvoord House

This cool little brick and wood house sits at the bend in Richmond Terrace at the foot of Pelton Avenue. I'll post a picture of the house at it looks today. It's still beautiful. Now, unfortunately, it's been chopped up into multi-family. What are you gonna do. At least it's still there.

Staten Island

I love Staten Island. If you know me that probably doesn't come as any sort of a surprise, but I just wanted to get it out there for anyone else bored enough to be reading this. I can't think of leaving Staten Island. I know, I know. Staten Island's a provincial, conservative town with stupid, classless people.

First, with almost half a million people it's only as provincial as you want it to be. Whatever cultural attractions we lack are simply in another borough, that is, in a different part of the city Staten Island belongs to.

Secondly, it is conservative. People who own homes, worry about earning enough money and sending the kids to school usally don't have the luxury or time to not be fairly conservative. Suits me fine.

Finally, they're really no less classy than any bohemian wannabe in Manahattan or Brooklyn. Look, we live in a pretty tacky society in general these days. For every NASCAR or wrestling fan there's some hipster going to a pompous show at PS 1. We live in a day of cheap spectacle and crazy social antipathies. If you like junk I don't it must be tasteless.

Coming on to Staten Island from any of the bridges or the ferry can still take my breath away. Masonry towers and old wooden houses brek through a seemingly endless green cover of sycamores, oaks and maples. The same vantage point shows the Island as a black space floating in front of me bound together by the yellow-orange street lights and rushing bands of car lights. I'm still moved when I look out over the borough from the crest of one of our bridges and I get just a bit excited when I can pick out a house I know between the leaves and branches that seem to be ready to smother it.

I like its houses and I like its people, even the ones I can't stand on a day to day basis. That's probably because I know I'm a bit of a jerk and I only feel superior because they don't like what I like or act just like me. I mean there's just no rational foundation for me feeling I'm any better than anybody I meet on the street and when I stop looking down my nose long enough I remember that and I can tell myself to shut the heck up.

I'm not foolish enough to think I'm anything but a product of this borough and I know I'm not "better" than the vast majority of them. Just because I think I'm smarter than so many of my fellow Staten Islanders doesn't make it even occasionally true. Everyone likes to think they're smarter or cooler than everyone around them (and everyone knows how cool I am).

These are the people I've known all my life and will probably know till the day I die. They have the same concerns for how the Island evolves and grows in the future that I do. If we don't agree on precisely how things turn out we at least all know what's important to think about.

If I was to go anywhere else I'd feel unmoored and set loose in a very discomfomrting way. It happened during my years in Albany (admittedly a small, anti-cosmopolitan outpost in New York's northlands) and I suspect it would happen wherever I moved to.

I love the tree covered hills and the evolving prairies growing on the remnants of the Fresh Kills Landfill. I love our French Provincial Borough Hall and the abandoned derelict Seaview TB hospital. I love the handful of ancient colonial homes scattered around the North Shore and old Victorian homes vainly struggling against development in Tottenville.

I'm going to start posting pictures from the Island throughout time. Some I'll snag from books and websites while the others I take with my handy little digital camera. If you have any ideas or comments please feel free to leave them and I'll see what I can do.

What I've Read

Mignola/Arcudi - BPRD: The Universal Machine
De Hartog, Jan - The Peacable Kingdom
Marshall, William L. - Yellowthread Street
Cotterill, Colin - The Coroner's Lunch
Kirk, Russell - Watcher at the Strait Gate
Rowling, J.K. - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
McWhorter, John - Authentically Black
Wangerin, Walter - The Book of the Dun Cow
McCarthy, Cormac - No Country for Old Men
Marshall, Michael - The Intruders
Bellavia, David - House to House
Pratchett, Terry - Making Money
Cook, Glen - The Fire in His Hands
Cook, Glen - With Mercy Toward None
Lindsay, Jeff - Darkly Devoted Dexter
Lindsay, Jeff - Dexter in the Dark
Cook, Glen - A Shadow of All Night Falling
Shlaes, Amity - The Forgotten Man
Erikson, Steven - Gardens of the Moon
King, Stephen - On Writing
Erikson, Steven - Deadhouse Gates
Dalrymple, Theodore - Our Culture, or What's Left of It
Long, Jeff - Deeper
Barlough, Jeffrey - Bertram of Butter Cross
Dickens, Charles - A Tale of Two Cities
Coady, Roxanne, ed. - The Book That Changed My Life
Lermontov, Mikhail - A Hero for Our Times
Dostoevsky, Feodor - Crime and Punishment
Reeve, Philip - Larklight

A little bit of everything; non-fiction, scifi, fantasy, crime, etc. Some were very good (House to House) and some were very (very, very) bad (The Intruders and Harry Potter).