STOP THE PRESSES… EVEN MORE BIZARRE RIVERSIDE FURNITURE IN THE NEW SOUTHPOINT PARK!
THESE MONSTROSITIES ARE BEING PLACED ON THE EAST SIDE OF THE NEW SOUTHPOINT PARK. WHAT WAS RIOC THINKING? OR NOT THINKING. MOST OF THE BENCHES FACE THE PARK, NOT THE RIVER VIEW!
WE CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE WHAT THIS OBJECT IS SUPPOSED TO BE.
AFTER WORKING SO HARD (WITH LOTS OF COMMUNITY INPUT) A WONDERFUL FDR HOPE MEMORIAL MATERIALIZED.
RIOC WAS LEFT ON THEIR OWN TO MESS UP SOUTHPOINT PARK. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN EVERYONE WAS SUPPOSEDLY “WORKING FROM HOME.” AN PANDEMIC OF BAD DESIGN.
FROM THE ARCHIVES
MONDAY, AUGUST 2, 2021
THE 431st EDITION
A Bizarre
August Tradition
Along Old
New York City’s
Waterfronts
FROM EPHEMERAL NEW YORK
Boys at Rutger’s Slip
The lazy dog days of summer along the waterfronts of late 19th century New York could could also be dangerous, thanks in part to a strange old tradition called “launching day.”
“Splinter Beach” George Bellows 1908
In 1908 On either August 1 or the first Friday in August (sources differ on exactly when it was held and how long it lasted), boys (and some men) along the city’s rivers would pick up another boy or man and launch them into the water. “Yesterday was what the boys along the water front call ‘Launching Day,'” wrote the New York World on August 3, 1897. “They throw each other into the river, clothes and all, saying, ‘Now swim and give yourself a bath.'”
The origins of launching day aren’t clear, but one Brooklyn newspaper stated in 1902 that it “has been a summer event ever since Robert Fulton launched the first steamboat into the Hudson in 1807.”
Launching Day was apparently held in Brooklyn as well. “Tomorrow will also be a fine day for the little boys along the river front who will observe ‘Launching Day,'” reported the Brooklyn Daily Eagle on July 31, 1897, a Saturday. “This juvenile holiday will, in all probability, last for three days, as some little boys do not like to be thrown overboard in their Sunday togs.”
Evening World headline
“August 1 has been known about the waterfront for many years as ‘Launching Day,'” wrote the New-York Herald on August 2, 1900. “Anybody who ventures on a pier is in danger of being thrown into the water….John Kriete, 21 years old, an iceman of 312 East 84th Street, pushed a workman, George Krause, of the same address, overboard at East 100th Street yesterday and fell in afterward himself. Kriete was drowned.”
“In Brooklyn the drowned body of Thomas McGullen, the 10-year-old son of John McGullen of No. 70 Hicks Street, was taken from the water at Henry Street,” wrote the New-York Tribune on August 2, 1903. “He was pushed off the pier by his playmates, who were celebrating ‘launching.’ They thought he could swim.”
The action along an East River dock
Exactly when launching day died out I’m not sure. But by the 1930s, newspapers interviewed people who recalled the tradition.
In the Daily News in 1934, a police reporter wrote: “I’ve known how to swim for 30 years because I was one of the West Side kids who used the Hudson River. We don’t have it now but then we had an annual ‘Launching Day’….Everybody near the water got thrown in, clothes and all. You had to swim or else.”
[Top photo: George Bain Collection/LOC; second image: George Bellows; Third photo: New-York Historical Society; Fourth image: New York Evening World; Fifth image: NYPL]
ED LITCHER, THOM HEYER, NINA LUBLIN, LAURA HUSSEY, ARON EISENPREISS, GLORIA HERMAN, HARA REISER ALL ARE RIGHT.
FROM WIKIPEDIA: The Elephantine Colossus (also known as the Colossal Elephant or the Elephant Colossus, or by its function as the Elephant Hotel) was a tourist attraction located on Coney Island in Brooklyn, New York City. It was built in the shape of an elephant, an example of novelty architecture. The seven story structure designed by James V. Lafferty stood above Surf Avenue and West 12th Street from 1885 until 1896, when it burnt down in a fire. During its lifespan, the thirty-one room building acted as a concert hall and amusement bazaar. It was the second of three elephant buildings built by Lafferty, preceded by the extant Lucy the Elephant near Atlantic City and followed by The Light of Asia in Cape May.
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Deborah Dorff All image are copyrighted (c)
EPHEMERAL NEW YORK
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FIND OUT MORE ABOUT THE R.I.H.S. WE WELCOME ALL TO LEARN ABOUT THE SOCIETY.
Our next board meeting is scheduled for Wednesday, August 11th at 5 p.m. Please tell me if you want in-person or Zoom. All members and friends and those just curious are invited to attend. E-mail or text if you are interested in attending.
FRIDAY, JULY 30, 2021
The
429th Edition
The Age of Glamorous
Steamboats
on the East River
STEPHEN BLANK
The Age of Glamorous Steamboats on the East River
Stephen Blank
In my last essay, I described how splendid steamboats plied the East River as well as the Hudson. The most dazzling of these were the steamboats of the Fall River Line. Fall River Line was a combination steamboat and railroad connection between New York City and Boston that operated between 1847 and 1937. (Note, I have drawn heavily in this piece from two super articles on the Fall River Line by Michael Grace.)
What’s most interesting to me is that this combo line continued to operate – and to be a social high point – not only through the great rail era in the US but well into the time of air travel as well. It became a continuing element of high society. The Fall River Line also provides a window on the internecine struggles of the great robber barons of the Gilded Age.
Old Colony Railroad
Let’s begin with the landside, the Old Colony Railroad. The OC was a major railroad system which operated from 1845 to 1893. Its network ran from New York to Boston and southeastern Massachusetts. For many years, the OC also operated steamboat and ferry lines, including the Fall River Line. It grew by mergers and acquisitions until it was itself acquired by the New York, New Haven and Hartford Railroad in 1893. The acquisition was part of J. P. Morgan’s plan to monopolize New England transportation, including railroads and steamship lines, and build a network of electrified trolley lines to provide interurban transportation for all of southern New England. By 1912, Morgan’s railroad practically monopolized traffic from Boston to New York City.
Fall River Line The Fall River Line, known originally as the Bay State Steamboat Company, was launched in 1847, backed, among others, by members of the Borden family (remember Lizzie?). Sailing from New York, the Fall River boats steamed up the East River in the early evening; up to Hell Gate, then down the Long Island sound; calling at Newport in the middle of the night and in the morning landing at the Fall River dock. Boston was just a train ride away with connections north to Maine’s major cities and resorts.
Michael Grace writes “Of all the fleets that plied the Sound, there was never any quite like the Fall River Line. Songs were written about it. Nearly all the presidents and most of the great men and women of that long period traveled it—the famous boat train from Boston in the late afternoon, then off the cars and into the boat at the Fall River wharf, in time to dine in the line sea air while steaming down Narragansett Bay, past Newport, to head around treacherous Point Judith and thence westward through The Race into the Sound. A fine sleep and into New York in time for business in the morning: it was the recommended route.”
The Fall River Line’s first steamer was the Bay State, 300 feet long and forty wide, lit by oil lamps at night. Her cuisine attained considerable renown, at fifty cents for the grand table d’hôte dinner, served at long candlelit tables. These were no ferry boats, and they were modeled on the grand manner of the transatlantic trade. The line was so profitable that two new boats, the Empire State, and the Metropolis, could be bought out of profits in a few years. Soon, Wall Street men moved in to begin a series of major financial mergers and shufflings which lasted over many years.
Featured image Fall River Line night boats docked at Pier 14 in Manhattan, newyorksocialdiary.comFall River Steamer – Digital Commonwealth
One “Wall Street man” in particular is remembered, “Admiral” Jim Fisk (“If Vanderbilt’s a Commodore, I can be an Admiral!”) soon to be owner of everything from railroads to judges. Representing some Boston capitalists, he outsmarted Daniel Drew, a longtime rival of Vanderbilt, into selling out his rival steamboat interest, and this gave him power as the president of a great steamboat line.
After Fisk’s death, when his mistress’s other lover shot him on the stairs of the Grand Central Hotel, the line was restructured, becoming the Old Colony Steamboat Company, under railroad control. Later it was absorbed, along with the Old Colony Railroad, by Morgan’s New Haven in the 1890’s.
Competition was brisk, principally from the Stonington Line, which was called “Old Reliable,” only to run two of its best ships aground one after the other, and then to have two others, the sister ships Narragansett and Stonington, collide off Cornfield Point, near Saybrook, Connecticut, with a loss of 27 lives. Presently this line too was swallowed up in the Morgan mergers.
But the Fall River Line, with the largest and most magnificent and most perfectly equipped river going vessels in the world, remained preeminent. Its modern steam-electricity technology, brightened by music from top groups, and with grand meals in the elegant dining salon attracted the nation’s social leaders. The palatial steamboats Priscilla and Commonwealth were the greatest of the Fall River Line fleet. These ships, it was claimed, could carry as many passengers and as much freight as the great Atlantic liners, Lusitania and Mauretania, on about one-sixth the displacement. Their accommodations, it was said, were often superior to those on all but the most luxurious North Atlantic liners. With over 300 first class staterooms, plus 15 parlor bedroom suites, a crew of 250 needed to operate the Priscilla and Commonwealth.
Grace: “No steamship service under the American flag, not excluding the North Atlantic liners, was more beloved by the traveling public than the Fall River Line or more greatly mourned when it was no more. A naval architect wrote, ‘The passenger steamers of the Fall River Line are absolutely the finest ships in the world for passenger service on inland waters. We may well be proud of the Fall River Line boats as creations distinctly American along with the elegance and service found in the greatest European hotels.’”
Newport and Wickford Railroad and Steamboat Company
The Gilded Age wealthy traveled elsewhere as well, to less trafficked destinations where they built vast summer “cottages”, namely Newport and Conanicut Island and Narragansett. Getting there was not convenient. A group of well to do New Yorkers decided to make things easier. Cornelius Vanderbilt II and his brother Frederick, formed the Newport and Wickford Railroad and Steamboat Company with several other investors. Other members of the board included political figures like Senator George Peabody Wetmore and Congressman George Gordon King. They constructed and operated a rail line a mere three-and-a half miles long. The track ran from the mainline New York, Providence & Boston stop at Wickford Junction to the port of Wickford, where a company-owned steamboat could bring passengers across to Newport. The little steamboat was not grand, but its passengers were. The N&W began service in 1871, the start of the Gilded Age, and managed to provide combined rail and steamship service until 1925.
Travelers were soon arriving from as far away as Chicago and St. Louis. The private rail cars of the wealthy New Yorkers were backed onto the siding where the N&W’s sole locomotive patiently waited to haul them to Wickford Harbor. For those without a private Pullman parlor car, the mainline railroad added a “Newport Car” reserved for passengers also heading to the City by water.
The Sad End
But no dream lasts forever and our grand steamers were finally junked or sold. Why? The opening of the Cape Cod Cana created a faster and safer all water route. Cheaper New York-Boston rail service diminished demand. Most of all, the private automobile and an improving road network was the most important factor. As the Great Depression wore on, line after line disappeared until only the Fall River route remained of all the once far-flung New Haven Railroad steamboat network.
Last words from Michael Grace, “… a generation has grown up since the line stopped operating in 1937, a generation which never strolled the deep-carpeted saloon and decks, eyeing the drummers and men of property and occasional flashy women, and never awoke to peer through the porthole at Hell Gate Bridge and take a hearty breakfast while the ‘mammoth palace steamer’ steamed round the Battery and swung into her Hudson River berth.” Goodness, goodness, goodness. Don’t you wish you had had the opportunity to sail on the Fall River Line? (And those “flashy women”.)
SIEGEL COOPER DEPARTMENT STORE 18-19 STREETS ON SIXTH AVENUE
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff All image are copyrighted (c)
FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
The three Stern brothers from Buffalo had outgrown their previous shop on West 23rd Street as well as their first New York City store, established in 1867, around the corner at 367 Sixth Avenue). So a new cathedral of commerce was needed, and it featured a stunning cast-iron facade and five stories of selling space.
Stern’s was now the city’s biggest department store—one that catered to both aspirational middle-class shoppers and the wealthy carriage trade. These elite shoppers entered a separate door on 22nd Street, so as not to rub shoulders with the riffraff.
But everyone who came to Stern’s left feeling like a million bucks.
”When the customer entered the store, he was welcomed personally by one of the Stern brothers, all of whom wore gray-striped trousers and cutaway tailcoats,” wrote the New York Times in 2001, quoting Larry Stone, who started at Stern’s in 1948 as a trainee and retired as chief executive in 1993. ”Pageboys escorted the customer to the department in which they wished to shop, and purchases were sent out in elegant horse-drawn carriages and delivered by liveried footmen.”
Stern’s was such a popular spot on 23rd Street—the northern border of what became known as the Ladies Mile Shopping District, where women were free to browse and buy without having to be escorted by their husbands or fathers—this dry goods emporium was enlarged in 1892.
The store was always a stop for tourists, too. “We got off [the Broadway car] at 23rd Street and Josie took us to the Stern Brothers, one of the large and select dry goods houses where we saw the latest fashions,” wrote 12-year-old Naomi King, who kept a travel diary of her visit to the city with her parents from Indiana in 1899. King wrote that she saw “all the new spring styles [and] the new spring color: amethyst, purple, or violet in all shades [and] stripes extending to gentlemen’s cravats in Roman colors.”
But Stern’s reign as one of the most popular shops on Ladies Mile wouldn’t last—mainly because Ladies Mile didn’t last. Macy’s was the first store to relocate uptown, from 14th Street and Sixth Avenue to Herald Square, in 1903.
Other big-name department stores followed. Stern’s made the jump to 42nd Street and Sixth Avenue in 1913, leaving their old building behind, according to a 1967 New York Times article marking the store’s centennial. For most of the 20th century, the palatial building on 23rd Street was used for light industry and commercial concerns.
The 42nd Street flagship store would ultimately close in 1970, wrote Gerard R. Wolfe in New York: A Guide to the Metropolis. By 2001, Stern’s shut down all of its stores and went out of business.
Since 2000s, Home Depot has occupied the old Stern’s dry goods palace, and it seems as if every trace of Stern’s has long been striped from the building.
Except on the facade. If you look up above the Home Depot Sign, you can see the initials “SB,” a permanent reminder of this magnificent building’s original triumphant owners.
[Top three images: NYPL Digital Collection] Tags: Home Depot 23rd Street NYC, Ladies Mile 23rd Street, Ladies Mile Shopping NYC, Stern Brothers department store NYC, Stern Brothers Store New York City, Stern’s 23rd Street NYC, Stern’s Store 42nd Street NYC Posted in Chelsea, Defunct department stores, Fashion and shopping, Old print ads, Random signage, Upper East Side
THURSDAY PHOTO OF THE DAY Can you identify this photo from today’s edition? Send you submission to ROOSEVELTISLANDHISTORY@GMAIL.COM
WEDNESDAY PHOTO OF THE DAY
Take a close look and realize that this is a pavilion to the south of the Holy Spirit Chapel, today The Sanctuary. Photo from the NYC Municipal Archives. I have never seen any other images of this pavilion, on the location south of the current tented area.
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Deborah Dorff All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
EPHEMERAL NEW YORK
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The play area in Blackwell Park was demolished today. By current standards a playground built with wooden boulders, bricks, metal slides and metal climbing device is so unsafe it had to be removed. A bulldozer made waste of the area this morning.
The site will be paved over and left to the open since RIOC canceled the reading and sitting area that would adjoin the new library.
The Learning Library will continue on the adjoining site.
It is a pity RIOC cared not for an improved area and just chose the easy solution, a bulldozer.
Do you have photos of your kids in the area? Please send them to us as a reminder of the little that remains of our original plans, either good, bad, innovative or dangerous.
FROM THE ARCHIVES
WEDNESDAY, JULY 28, 2021
427st ISSUE
All the Arches
That were Built
(and then bulldozed) in
Madison Square
FROM EPHEMERAL NEW YORK
All the arches that were built (and then bulldozed) in Madison Square Arch fever at Madison Square Park started in 1889. That’s the year a pair of elaborate wood arches festooned with American flags were built to commemorate the centennial of George Washington’s inauguration. One arch went up outside the 23rd Street and Broadway entrance to the park (above photo), and the other was constructed on the 26th Street side (below). The city threw an impressive party for the first president, but after the festivities honoring Washington ended, the two arches were reduced to rubble.
But arches in general were quite popular all over the Beaux-Arts city through the end of the Gilded Age. So 10 years later, another arch was unveiled beside the Fifth Avenue Hotel at 24th Street and Broadway.This impressive structure was the Dewey Arch (above), named for Admiral George Dewey, whose victory at the Battle of Manila Bay during the Spanish-American War earned him national hero status. Dewey was coming to New York to be honored with a parade and a flotilla of ships, and city officials hoped to welcome him in triumphant style.
The ostentatious arch reflected that spirit. “The Dewey Arch, designed by architect Charles R. Lamb, was based on the Arch of Titus in Rome and was produced by 28 sculptors,” wrote flatirondistrict.nyc. “It was topped by a quadriga, a chariot pulled by four horses running abreast. This one, in keeping with the occasion, depicted four seahorses pulling a ship.”After the Dewey celebration, calls went out to turn this temporary arch (made from staff, a mixture of plaster and wood shavings) into a permanent one. Unfortunately, the Dewey Arch was “carted away” later that year, already picked apart by vandals, according to Daniel B. Schneider in The New York Times FYI column in 1999. The public lost interest in Dewey by then anyway.
But Madison Square Park wasn’t done with arches yet. In 1918, a fourth arch, called the Victory Arch, would be unveiled at Fifth Avenue and 24th Street. The Victory Arch was the brainchild of Mayor John Hylan, a way to honor the fallen soldiers from World War I as well as the men who were returning from Europe.“The $80,000 triple arch was designed by Thomas Hastings in temporary materials and modeled after the Arch of Constantine in Rome, with relief panels commemorating important battles, war service organizations, and industrial might—like munitions makers,” wrote Christopher Gray in the New York Times in 1994.
As with the Dewey Arch, many New Yorkers wanted the Victory Arch to be permanent. Of course, it had plenty of critics as well. “Fiorello H. LaGuardia, as a candidate for President of the Board of Alderman in 1919, denounced the project as the ‘Altar of Extravagance,’ stated Gray.By 1919, thousands of doughboys had marched through the Victory Arch during the many parades held by the city. It must have been quite a shock, then, to watch the arch be demolished in the summer of 1920—a victim of “bureaucratic infighting,” according to Allison McNearney in The Daily Beast.
Madison Square Park remains arch-less a century later—but it wasn’t for a lack of trying.
In 2008, the Alumni of the Metropolitan Hospital School of Nursing presented this sundial to the Octagon developer, Bruce Becker. The sundial was placed in the triangular turn-around outside the building. It was surround by three benches, flowering trees and foliage.
Last year, the current management removed the sundial and benches. We now have an oversize building sign with 3 “888” mounted on the top.
It was a sad loss of an island memento, the loss of a beautiful pear tree and three benches.
AN AREA ON THE NORTHBOUND #1 PLATFORM COLUMBUS CIRCLE STATION
HAS A UNIQUE DISPLAY OF TILE SAMPLES. THESE WERE DISCOVERED DURING RENOVATIONS. THEY HAVE BEEN PRESERVED FOR PASSENGERS TO SEE THE TYPES OF TILEWORKS THAT WERE BEING TESTED.
HARA REISER AND ALEXIS VILLAFANE GOT IT RIGHT
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
EPHEMERAL NEW YORK
FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
Ida Abelman, Greetings from a Manhattan Artist, ca. 1939, color lithograph on paper, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Transfer from D.C. Public Library, 1967.72.1
Ida Abelman is well known for her combination of different styles of art, including surrealism, constructivism, and social realism. It is important to define the themes in her artwork because only then can it be framed in the context of social commentary appropriate for the time period. Art themes that convey important social, economic, and political messages of the time transform the function of works from “for viewing purposes” to “for learning purposes”
Surrealism: the goal of surrealism was to release the creative unconscious through the juxtaposition of irrational images.
Constructivism: Constructivism is a form of art that supports the use of architecture, graphic design, illustration, theater, film, dance, music, and other forms of art as a practice having social impact, that is, created with a message.
Social realism: Social realism describes the work of artists that draw attention to the struggles and realistic conditions of the poor and working class. These paintings, photographs, and/or films criticize the social structure that cause or maintain these conditions.
Ida Abelman, Machine + “El” Patterns, 1935-1943, color lithograph on paper, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Transfer from the Internal Revenue Service through the General Services Administration , 1962.8.76
Ida Abelman, A Manhattan Landscape with Figures, 1936, lithograph on paper, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Museum purchase, 1976.90.2
Ida Abelman, My Father Reminisces, 1937, lithograph, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Transfer from D.C. Public Library, 1967.72.4
Publisher: Published by WPA Date: 1935–43 Medium: Lithograph Dimensions: image: 10 x 12 in. (25.4 x 30.5 cm) sheet: 11 1/2 x 16 in. (29.2 x 40.6 cm) Classification: Prints Credit Line: Gift of New York City WPA, 1943
This painting most obviously demonstrates social realism by illustrating how machines encompassed men at the time. The Great Depression was characterized by a heavy emphasis in the machine industry. The Industrial Revolution, the transition to new manufacturing processes, had occurred almost 100 years ago. The most accessible job market was that of manufacturing. In this way the painting shows the struggles of the working class to find positions that paid enough to uphold themselves or their families and not physically injure themselves in the process.
Publisher: Published by WPA Date: 1937 Medium: Lithograph Dimensions: image: 14 x 10 in. (35.6 x 25.4 cm) sheet: 15 3/4 x 11 1/2 in. (40 x 29.2 cm) Classification: Prints Credit Line: Gift of the Work Projects Administration, New York, 1943
“Street Patterns” was painted by Ida Abelman in 1937, and represents an abstract depiction of the New York City Skyline from a rooftop. There is integration of skyscrapers, and the shadow made from the viewpoint seems to resemble a guitar neck. The usage of dark shades of grey, black, and white are consistent with her depressive themes. Indeed, the city seems still, which reflects the aura of the Great Depression.
Publisher:Published by Federal Art Project, WPA, New York. Date: 1937 Medium: Lithograph Dimensions: 29.5 x 38.4 cm. (11.6 x 15.1 in.) Classification: Prints
“Wonders of Our Time” was painted by Ida Abelman in 1937 and can be found in the Whitney Museum of Art. It is consistent with the social changes of New York City at the time, as the city had begun construction on the subway system only 30 years prior, and it was rapidly spreading. It varies in its black, white, and grey shades to create a somber mood regarding the city. This can be connected to using the subway as a work commute, path to interviews, or other events that are associated with the Great Depression. The odd angles of the train and exaggerated facial expressions uphold Abelman’s constant themes of Surrealism. “Some of the figures look back at the viewer as if, in an act of desperation, to ask for help. The scene reveals an unnerving parallel between competition for seats among subway riders and Dawin’s theory of natural selection. As Abelman’s passengers squeeze their way into the war, the fittest, or the most aggressive, get seats while the weakest are left behind. Crowding was always a problem in the subway, but after World War I it became unbearable.”
RENDERINGS OF THE OCTAGON FROM “THE ISLAND NOBODY KNOWS” UDC 1969 THOM HEYER, NANCY BROWN, HARA REISER, JOAN BROOKS, ALEXIS VILLAFANE, ARLENE BESSENOFF ALL GOT IT RIGHT
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
SMITHSONIAN AMERICAN ART MUSEUM WORDPRESS
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Some years ago a family of tourists turned a corner in Greenwich Village. The small boy, perhaps seven years old, exclaimed “Oh, Father! Look! A guild hall!”
He was close. What he mistook for a European guild hall was the Jefferson Market Courthouse. Clearly the most fanciful Victorian structure in Manhattan.
Finished in 1877 on designs by Frederick Withers and Calvert Vaux (of Central Park fame) the courthouse was the product of one of Boss Tweed’s graft schemes. The New York Times, a consistent adversary of Tweed, grumbled that a suitable building could have been built for half the price — variously reported from $360,000 to $550,000. Referring to the seedy area in which it was located, The Times called it “a jewel in a swine’s snout.”
photo NYPL Collection
The completed project was actually a combination of buildings filling the odd triangle of land: the courthouse to the north, a jail complex to the south and the Jefferson Market buildings to the west. The site had been, since 1833, a group of sheds serving the market and a tall wooden fire lookout and bell. The lookout was incorporated into the clock tower and the resulting assemblage was pronounced one of the ten most beautiful buildings in America by a poll of architects in 1885.
A riot of Victorian Gothic design, the courthouse is a medley of materials and shapes. Red brick, ochre colored Ohio stone, cast iron, colored stone, and stained glass work together in creating the arches, pinnacles and gables. The clock tower starts out as an octagon, becomes a cylinder, then a square. It is a feast for the eyes.
The facade is decorated all over with sculptures, from the huge stone New York Seal near the eaveline, to small, unexpected owl heads. Gruesome gargoyles spew from the clock tower. One medallion is of a resting man, reflecting on nature and looking very much like John Ruskin. Another depicts a stork eating a frog.
In 1896 author Stephen Crane testified here in defense of a prostitute — Crane said he had seen the girl in the Tenderloin District while he was there “studying human nature.” In 1906 Harry Thaw was tried for the murder of Stanford White who was having an affair with Thaw’s wife, Evelyn Nesbit.
By 1927 the jail and courthouse was used only for trials of women, becoming locally known as “the lady’s courthouse.” It was here, on February 9, 1927 that Mae West and her entire cast of the Broadway play “Sex” was tried and jailed on obscenity charges.
In 1929 the market buildings and the jail were razed and the Women’s House of Detention, a hulking Art Deco monster rose, nearly dwarfing the courthouse.
Because of redistricting, the courthouse ceased operation in 1945, was used for various uses by the police department and other agencies, but by 1958 it was abandoned. Home to rats and pigeons, it was slated for demolition by the city in favor of an apartment building.
Fate stepped in when Margot Gayle, Democratic district leader, attended a Christmas time cocktail party at 51 5th Avenue in 1959. Conversation turned to the courthouse and it was agreed that it should be saved.
There were no landmarks laws, no preservation movements, and recycling vintage buildings for new purposes was essentially unheard of. Saving the courthouse would be a momumental undertaking. The group started with the clock. According to Ms. Gayle, “it had been stuck at 3:20 for several years.” A telegram was sent to mayor Robert F. Wagner saying “What we want for Christmas is to get the clock started.”
Wagner jumped on the cause and, eventually, other politicians, celebrities and literary figures joined in. The clock was restored. A new use was now needed for the building. Although the New York Public Library was initially not receptive to the idea of having a branch in an old court building, the mayor swayed them by threatening to withhold capital funding.
By 1967 the renovation, designed by Giorgio Cavaglieri, was complete. It was the first real example of historic preservation in the city. In 1974 the Women’s Detention Center was demolished and replaced by a beautiful community garden that perfectly compliments the renewed building.
The demolished Women’s House of Detention. Now a community garden, it adjoins the library,
Today the Jefferson Market Courthouse is not only one of the most distinctive buildings in Manhattan, it is one of the most beloved by New Yorkers.
Emperor Constantine’s foot remaining remnant from the Colossus of Constantine statue in Ancient Rome and bare feet of someone relaxing at a table outside of the Cornell Tech campus cafeteria.
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Deborah Dorff All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
DAYTONIAN IN MANHATTAN
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By the time New Amsterdam was founded in 1664, sundials had been around for millennia. More than that, they’d been replaced by clocks and were antiquated time-keeping objects. Nonetheless, sundials continued to persist and can be found all over New York City. While a few them are in working order, the sundials are remarkable for their historical range, with pieces constructed anywhere from the late 17th century to the present day. These 10 NYC sundials range widely in style and age, creating a mosaic of artistic periods. These unexpected sightings in New York City can be easily mistaken for just art pieces, so when you’re walking around keep an open eye.
Sitting in front of the Queens Hall of Science in Flushing Meadows-Corona Park is a bronze sculpture, 6 feet in diameter. The museum itself is one of the few survivors of the 1964 World’s Fair in Flushing Meadows-Corona Park. After the museum fell into disrepair, it was renovated and opened in 1984. The Sun Sculpture, unveiled in 2003, is roughly 13 feet in diameter and weighs 25,000 pounds. The sundial provides an appropriate introduction to the museum as children learn its function as both clock and impromptu playground, often using it as a makeshift fort.
“Camp Columbia” is currently the only (official) sundial on the Columbia University campus. It’s more popular counterpart though, has since been lost from campus. Considered a university landmark, an original 16-ton granite sphere was donated by an alumni in 1914 and it occupied a central hub of Columbia’s campus. While a campus fixture, the sundial’s granite began to crack and disintegrate leading to its removal, although the base is still there. Many assumed the sphere had been destroyed but, almost 60 years later, in 2001, the sundial resurfaced in a field of Ann Arbor that may or may not have belonged to an individual with university affiliations. The current sundial has a less exalted history, with sculptor unknown. The story behind what happened to the original sundial remains somewhat mysterious and the base remains on campus, engraved with the words Horam Expecta Veniet or await this hour, time will come.
Both a historic house converted to a museum and a NYC presidential haunt, the Morris-Jumel mansion is located in Washington Heights. In addition to the house’s cultural and historical import (home to the wife of Aaron Burr with many visits by George Washington), it is also pervaded with a calm serenity, in large part due to the garden that surrounds the house. The sundial, behind the house and in the middle of the garden courtyard, at the center is one of the few that might actually have been used for time-keeping purposes. Also don’t miss the wonderfully quaint Sylvan Terrace just below the mansion, used often for film shoots.
Yorkville’s Asphalt Green Park, located on the spot where the asphalt of New York roads was first mixed, was nicknamed the “Cathedral of Asphalt.” Despised by Robert Moses as “the most hideous waterfront structure ever inflicted on a city,” the park was hailed by the Museum of Modern Art as a masterpiece of functional design. The sundial at the front of the building is itself a piece of sculptural modernism. “Song to the Sun” is scaled to the parabolic building behind it. The artist, Robert Adzema, constructed the dial to “elevate the spirit as it rises up to celebrate and bring sun and sky to this urban plaza.”
Robert Ademza, the artist behind Asphalt Green’s “Song to the Sun”, created this public sculpture found in PS85, Port Richmond, Staten Island. Similar in overall look to its Asphalt Green counterpart, the large, free-standing sundial sculpture is made entirely from steel. Adzema painted it a brilliant yellow hue to emphasize the shadows and increase their visibility. In addition, the emphasis on the north-south axis, with numbers engraved on the opposite axis, also draws attention to the shadows.
While Central Park has no shortage of benches, the Waldo Hutchins bench stands out as one of the most elaborate. Named after public servant Waldo Hutchins, the bench with the sundial at the center, honors a man who helped create Central Park, promoted the idea of personal fulfillment through public service and the broader need to preserve and protect important pieces of New York City’s history.
The small sundial, which sits at the back of the bench includes a bronze female figure attributed to Paul Manship, sculptor of the ”Prometheus” at Rockefeller Center. Another Latin inscription is on the sundial: ”Ne Diruatur Fuga Temporum,” or ”Let it not be destroyed by the passage of time.’’ You can find the bench immediately to the north of the East 72nd street entrance and south-east of the reservoir.
The Armillary Sphere, built of bronze, is just one of Sutton Place’s iconic and memorable structures. The band on the exterior of the sphere is a version of the equator with golden zodiac signs stamped on it. Inside the ban are the hours in roman numerals. Briefly removed in 2000 after a graffiti incident, the dial was refurbished and placed in another vest park of Sutton Place.
Another example of public art rather than timekeeping device, this monument to the veterans of the Korean War in Battery Park was designed to catch the sun shining directly through the statue on the exact time and day the ceasefire was declared. We look at the monument a little further here.
The McGraw Hill Building is part of the “XYZ” building (with McGraw Hill being the Y at the center), all designed by the firm of Wallace Harrison, also responsible for much of Rockefeller Center across the street. The three international style buildings, particularly 1221 above, are examples of Privately Owned Public Spaces (POPS) gone wrong. The sunken plazas in each one looks unwelcoming and in the case of 1221 Sixth Avenue, potentially not a POPS at all, given its violation of certain qualifications.
For the McGraw Hill buiding however, the addition of a 50-foot tall polished stainless steel structure raises the sunken plaza back to ground level creating a more open atmosphere for pedestrians. “The Sun Triangle” is arranged so each side points to the four seasonal positions of the sun at solar noon in NYC.
OUR LOST SUNDIAL
In 2008, the Alumni of the Metropolitan Hospital School of Nursing presented this sundial to the Octagon developer, Bruce Becker. The sundial was placed in the triangular turn-around outside the building. It was surround by three benches, flowering trees and foliage.
Last year, the current management removed the sundial and benches. We now have an oversize building sign with 3 “888” mounted on the top.
It was a sad loss of an island memento, the loss of a beautiful pear tree and three benches.
(Unfortunately some of our neighbors must think that their bare feet are the same art-pieces as in ancient Rome)
TUESDAY PHOTO OF THE DAY
Window of Strecker Memorial Laboratory that has been shot out numerous times and the MTA has replaced the window frequently. MITCH ELINSON GOT IT RIGHT
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We Islanders know that the East River is not a river, that it’s a salt water tidal estuary that connects the Atlantic Ocean in Long Island Sound with the ocean in Upper New York Bay. We know that the East River is 16 miles long and that the tide changes direction 4 times a day. We know that our F train travels under the river at one of its deepest points.
So what’s new? Hang on.
First, the Good
The construction we see on the Manhattan side of the river, north of the Queensboro Bridge, will be the East Midtown Greenway and this looks to be really good. The East Midtown Greenway is part of the Manhattan Waterfront Greenaway project to build a 32.5-mile waterfront path running continuously around the entire island. The Greenway will total more than 1,000 acres—a space larger than Central Park. Joggers, walkers, cyclists, and everyone else from every neighborhood should have access to the Greenway. The project inched closer to reality in April when Mayor de Blasio announced the city would spend $723 million to complete the project by 2029.
What we see from our island will fill a major gap in the Greenway along the East River between East 38th and East 61st Streets, providing waterfront access and open space for the East Midtown community and the public at large.
What we see from our island will fill a major gap in the Greenway along the East River between East 38th and East 61st Streets, providing waterfront access and open space for the East Midtown community and the public at large.
Here are several renderings of the East Midtown Greenway extension. Good.
NYC Economic Development Corporation https://urbanize.city/nyc/post/see-new-renderings-100m-east-midtown-greenway-extension
THE BAD
The Bad. OK, I admit I’ve tricked you a bit. Unless you speak German. I meant “Bad” (Bath) or more accurately “Schwimmbad”. And this would not be bad at all, if it actually happens.
The East River today is clean enough to swim in. On most days, the levels of bacteria meet federal safety guidelines, according to state and local officials. Even when the bacteria levels in the water are high, it’s unlikely that swimmers will get sick. If they do get sick, the severity will probably be more along the lines of eating bad takeout than setting off a cholera outbreak. But who wants to swim in the East River? So the City has approved plans for a floating pool in the East River that would also filter large amounts of river water – which should (note, New York City definition of “should”) be completed in a couple of years. Jessica Cherner writes in Architectural Digest that the idea originated with a group that has pushed for building giant plus sign–shaped floating pool just north of the Manhattan Bridge. Without any chemicals and additives, the pool would filter more than 600,000 gallons of East River water that floats through the pool’s barriers every day. Archie Lee Coates IV and Jeff Franklin of the design firm PlayLab, and Dong-Ping Wong and Oana Stanescu of the architecture firm Family, originally conceived of the idea for + POOL back in 2010, but like anything worth doing, it took a while to actually become a reality. After all, the group had to (and continues to) raise funds, develop working filtration systems, and test them for accuracy and efficiency. And after years of research and testing, the four friends have managed to prove that + POOL’s tech actually works.
And now that the city has allowed + POOL to officially drop anchor in a specific location, the real challenge begins: raising between $20 million and $25 million to give New Yorkers the Olympic-size warm weather haven they’ve been dreaming of for years. Much like the projects of other inventive entrepreneurs who had to hit pause on their brilliant ideas at the start of 2020, + POOL is finally starting to pick up steam again. Now that + POOL has an official home in the East River, eager New Yorkers may be one step closer to fearlessly diving into the salty water, but it’s still a little ways off, considering construction could take up to two years.
Renderings courtesy of + POOL
Renderings courtesy of + POOL
And now, the Ugly.
Not necessarily ugly. But bizarre ideas for the East River have been bruited about.
The first is a new plan to drain the East River.
In 2017 New York Magazine asked several leading architects to speculate on visionary projects for the future of New York City. One, Mark Foster Gage, proposed draining the East River to create a new “East River Valley” which would include 15,000 acres of new gardens, farms and parks in the very center the City.
Their proposal says “New York City is structured by two rivers, which is very selfish for a city—as it is common knowledge that a city can get by on one. To be even more accurate—one of them, the ‘East River,’ in question, isn’t even actually a river at all – it’s a tidal estuary. Geologists also refer to this condition as a flooded valley. That is to say that under that flood prone pseudo-river cutting thorough our fair city, there is a beautiful and fertile valley awaiting rescue. And so, we propose to drain the East ‘River’- for multiple reasons. The first is that storm surges at a scale of Hurricane Harvey, if occurring at the location of the East river, could annihilate vast sections of city upwards of 15,000 acres across the Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn and Manhattan — an area nearly 20 times as large as Central Park. One solution being proposed to combat this is the construction of levees such as the Lower Manhattan ‘Big U’ that aim to deflect water from particular areas of the city—yet leaving others to flood entirely unprotected. In fact, if you wanted to protect the aforementioned boroughs from a Hurricane Harvey-sized storm surge, you would need to build over 40 miles of new seawall along the river’s entire coast.
We propose to, instead, build three strategically placed new dams, totaling less than 1 mile in length. In this process, New York City gains a new ‘East River Valley’ that includes 15,000 acres of new gardens, farms and parks in the very center of our urban fabric. Catastrophe prevention is always better when it includes fresh produce. This new, infrastructure-free, deep land found in this now accessible valley offers an unparalleled opportunity for the city to engage in the construction of massive, next-generation, geothermal wells to power the next century of New York City’s energy needs. Air-conditioned subway stops, occasional water ferries and recycled Metro cards are not sufficient to either save our city or propel it into the new millennium. For both we need to consider larger, bolder ideas that use foresight as fuel and potential risks as unique opportunities that can power a new generation of sustainable and urban scale innovations. The alternative is to await the rising waters of our proverbial winter, and watch the coming floods wash away our city, our future, and hopefully all evidence of our shortsighted complacency.”
And finally, on the East River and on Roosevelt Island, we present the Mandragore Building.
Proposed by the French architecture firm Rescubika, this would be a 2,418-foot tower on Roosevelt Island (to its tip, the Empire State is 1,454 feet high). With wood construction materials, 36 wind turbines, 8,300 shrubs, 1,600 trees, 83,000 square feet of plant walls, and nearly 23,000 square feet of solar panels, it would be the world’s tallest “carbon sink” tower–one that absorbs more CO2 than it releases.
renderings via Rescubika Studio
The tree-studded, 160-story futuristic proposal is planned to loosely resemble a mandrake plant — an anthropomorphic, human-like form. – with a base like a cruise ship morphing into a gleaming twisty tower a la Salvador Dali. “The symbolism of the body confronts us with our own destiny, the one that reminds us that we must preserve our environment in order to live in symbiosis with nature,” the architects say. And no, it isn’t clear what would happen to Cornell Tech. But it’s only a dream though it might be fun to see it on our island.
A little summer reading. Lots of imagination on the East River, but one thing for sure. It’ll be great when the Manhattan Waterfront Greenaway project finishes up.
This is Mr. Romeo, a resident of the WILDLIFE FREEDOM FOUNDATION SANCTUARY IN SOUTHPOINT PARK.
OOPS! MY COMPUTER ATE ALL THE RESPONSES TO TODAY’S TO THE FELINE IDENTIFICATION.
Thanks to all our subscribers for the wonderful comments about our new FDR HOPE MEMORIAL. Please take the opportunity to visit the park and experience this new landmark.
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
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Yesterday, July 17th, 2021 was the day to finally reveal and dedicate the FDR HOPE MEMORIAL.
Located on the west side of Soutpoint Park, just midway between the park entrance and the FDR Four Freedoms Park, this special memorial is located in a cul-de-sac.
Located gracefully on gently sloping hill the area has the trees and lawn above to the east and the area looks out over the East River.
The cul-de-sac is framed by the serpentine stone wall that gives the area dimension and reminds of that this wall was part of the City Hospital construction and made from Fordham Gneiss stone quarried on the island.
Today, after the ceremonies were over and the area was cleared, we watched our first visitors discover the Memorial
CLARA BARTON PHOTOS
I observed that people were tempted to come into the Memorial and slowly read the historical texts as them strolled in.
There is a grooved area to the left as you walk or us an assisted devise to find your way. It is made so a visually impaired person can be guided to the sculptures.
There is a slight barrier in the front of the sculptures and a grooved area so a person can safely feel the sculptors.
The little girl will be the recipient of many handshakes and high-5’s
I am sure that this is one of thousands of kids that will climb up on FDR’s knee..
The sculpture looks out over the East River and the City beyond
ON THIS IMPORTANT DAY, DOZENS OF NEW TREES ARE PLANTED ON THE PROMENADES
(COURTESY OF AN ANONYMOUS DONOR AND MATERIAL FOR THE ARTS)
Two of the thirteen Kwansan cherry trees that were planted yesterday between the lower west promenade and the entry to Southpoint Park
One of the eighteen trees planted between the firehouse and the road to the Octagon. This area has had few trees and was in need of many more blooms.
OPINION
Yesterday , as we celebrated the work of “Uncle” Jim Bates,Nancy Brown, the Roosevelt Island Disabled Association , the wonderful sculpture of Meredith Bergmann, Marc Diamond and all the persons who brought this day to fruition, I had a feeling RIDA needs a new name.
Our organization (RIDA) is not “disabled”. The volunteers and members are fully able and I suggest we change the name to
THE ROOSEVELT ISLAND ENABLED ASSOCIATION.
IN MEMORIUM
This week we learned of the passing of neighbors, past and present.
Mel Rosen husband of Maureen and father of Brenda and Michael passed away at his home in Astoria.
Dick FitzPatrick, husband of Verna and father of two, grandfather of five.
Dr. Daniela S. Gerhard, daughter of Eva Gerhard and long time islander passed away in June. She was a well known researcher and worked at the NIH in Bethesda.
Our heartfelt sympathies to our friends and neighbors.
ONE OF THE DECORATED PICNIC TABLES AT GOOD SHEPHERD PLAZA. JAY JACOBSON, GLORIA HERMAN, NINA LUBLIN, ALEXIS VILLEFANE AND NINA LUBLIN GOT IT RIGHT!!
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Deborah Dorff All image are copyrighted (c)
JUDITH BERDY
FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
THRU AN ANONYMOUS DONATION THE ROOSEVELT ISLAND HISTORICAL SOCIETY, IS RECEIVING APPROXIMATELY 30 KWANZAN CHERRY TREES TODAY. THIS WONDERFUL ADDITION TO OUR ISLAND IS BEING DONATED THRU MATERIAL FOR THE ARTS. THE DONATION INCLUDES PLANTING THE TREES, TODAY SATURDAY, JULY 17th.
WORKING WITH MATTHEW KIBBY OF RIOC’S DIRECTOR OF HORTICULTURE AND GROUNDS, SITES HAVE BEEN SELECTED ON THE EAST AND WEST PROMENADES AND A FEW OTHER LOCATIONS. THESE TREES WILL FILL IN WHERE TREES HAVE BEEN REMOVED AND WILL ENHANCE THE SPRINGTIME BEAUTY OF OUR PROMENADES.
OUT THANKS TO MATERIAL FOR THE ARTS WHO REACHED OUT TO THE R.I.H.S. TO BE A RECIPIENT OF THIS WONDERFUL GIFT.
JUDITH BERDY, PRESIDENT
JULY 17-18, 2021
OUR 419TH EDITION
Hart Island’s Last Stand
After years of study, the city has declared an emergency to bulldoze most of the buildings on the city’s potter’s field, without following the usual environmental review process.
THE NEW YORK TIMES, JULY 16, 2021 (C)
By John Freeman Gill July 16, 2021Updated 11:02 a.m. ETFor more than 150 years, Hart Island, half a mile east of City Island in the Bronx, has been a depository of the marginalized, an isolated outpost to which the city has variously shipped the poor and unclaimed dead, the imprisoned, the sick and the troubled.Best known as the city’s potter’s field, where more than a million New Yorkers have been buried in common graves since the 1860s, the one-mile-long strip of land has also been home to facilities for the insane, the diseased, the addicted and the homeless — as well as for a segregated regiment of African-American Union Army troops during the Civil War.
A Catholic chapel, shown here in 2004, was built on Hart Island in the 1930s. In 2016, New York State designated the entire island, including the chapel, as eligible for listing on the State and National Registers of Historic Places. But the city plans to spend $52 million to raze all of the island’s old buildings under an emergency demolition order.Credit…Melinda Hunt Courtesy of The Hart Island Project
Enough remnants of this layered institutional history survive on Hart Island, both above and below the ground, that in 2016, New York State formally designated the entire island as eligible for listing on both the State and National Registers of Historic Places. Among the 19 or so abandoned old structures still standing to tell the island’s tale — and the city’s — are several that the state identified as “notable buildings,” among them an 1885 women’s insane asylum, a 1930s Catholic chapel and a 1912 “Dynamo Room,” with its arched openings and prominent smokestack.
Yet even as control of Hart Island passed on July 1 from the city’s Department of Correction to the Parks Department, as mandated by a 2019 law, city agencies had already been working for months on a $52 million plan to demolish every one of the island’s old buildings.
On June 5, the Department of Buildings, citing public safety, issued an emergency order for the “immediate demolition” of 18 institutional, residential and service buildings constructed on Hart Island between the late 1800s and the mid 1900s.
Preservationists called for a more deliberate and transparent decision-making process with a full environmental review, including public hearings and formal consideration of potential damage to historic resources before the buildings are destroyed.
But if the city comptroller, Scott M. Stringer, gives final approval for the emergency declaration, the Department of Design and Construction will be authorized to raze the 18 structures for the Parks Department. “
The comptroller’s office has been working with the city to resolve questions and concerns regarding the proposed demolition,” said Hazel Crampton-Hays, the comptroller’s press secretary. “In response to our requests, the Department of Design and Construction has agreed to communicate with the state historic preservation and environmental authorities about any necessary reviews or adjustments, and agreed to amend the emergency request to procure a construction manager to determine the timeline, scope, and pricing of the proposed project and use that information to then seek approval from our office for the demolition itself.”
“Given these modifications and approval from the Law Department,” she continued, “we have now approved the amended emergency request.”
Under city rules, before receiving approval from the comptroller’s office to proceed with an emergency demolition, a city agency must demonstrate the existence of an emergency condition that poses “an unforeseen danger” to life, safety, property or a necessary service. The agency must also show that the condition creates an immediate need for such action that cannot be procured using normal procedures.
The city’s emergency order stated that “excluding the current field offices for island operations, a war memorial and two decommissioned Nike missile silos, there are 18 remnant and unsafe one-, two-, three- and four-story buildings” on Hart Island. “All were observed to be in advanced stages of collapse, either fully or mostly so.” The buildings, the order said, “are an immediate danger to the public and the island staff.”
As emergencies go, this has been a slow-developing one, according to internal city agency reports obtained by The New York Times. Most of the buildings on the island have been vacant and deteriorating ever since Phoenix House, a substance-abuse rehabilitation center, left the island in 1976.
In 2015, an internal draft report by the Department of Buildings called for the demolition of 13 Hart Island buildings but recommended “immediate repair” of the century-old Record Storage Building and a pumping station; it also said that no action was required for a third building, a small pump house. The report further recommended that the chimney adjacent to the Dynamo Room, a power-generating facility built around 1912, be lowered — not demolished — and that the Catholic chapel and the three-story Victorian-era Women’s Asylum, also known as the Pavilion, each be fenced as a “possible ruin site.”
The Pavilion, shown here in 2004, was built in 1885 as a women’s insane asylum. The facility closed in 1895 and the building was later used as a mess hall and workhouse for young men incarcerated on the island. It is now partially collapsed.Credit…Melinda Hunt Courtesy of The Hart Island Project.
In March 2020, after a new survey, another internal Buildings Department draft report again recommended the red-brick Record Storage Building “for immediate repair” and noted that “eight-foot-high chain-link fences with lockable gates are viable options for 16 vacant, open and unguarded buildings” — but the report nonetheless recommended that those 16 structures be razed.
Not for another 15 months, however, did the agency issue the emergency demolition order, yet again increasing the number of buildings to be leveled, this time to 18. Among the 18 edifices slated for emergency demolition was the Record Storage Building, which the same agency had described just a year earlier as “suitable to renovate” and “not complicated to repair.”
Under state law, the City Environmental Quality Review process, is triggered whenever a city agency directly undertakes a discretionary action or when a project needs city funding. According to the manual for the city’s review process, city agencies are required “to assess, disclose and mitigate to the greatest extent practicable the significant environmental consequences of their decisions to fund, directly undertake or approve a project.” The effects on historic and cultural resources are among the impacts that must be reviewed. The purpose of the law is to ensure that decision makers formally incorporate consideration of environmental impacts, including damage to historic structures, into their policy decisions.
But a spokesman for Mayor Bill de Blasio said, in an emailed message, “The emergency demolition work is not subject to environmental review” and that all necessary permits and approvals would be obtained before the work began.
“Clearly this is all a pretext for environmental-law evasion,” said Jack L. Lester, a lawyer who specializes in New York environmental review law. “There’s no emergency, but that’s something they can hang their hat on to avoid any kind of public scrutiny. It’s not rational — it’s pretextual, it’s arbitrary and it violates the law.”
Under the State Environmental Quality Review Act, emergency actions exempt from environmental review are defined as those “that are immediately necessary on a limited and temporary basis for the protection or preservation of life, health, property or natural resources.” The actions must also be tailored to deal with the emergency while causing the least possible change or disturbance to the environment.
Mr. Lester said that the passage of time between the Buildings Department’s surveys of Hart Island and its emergency order undermined any claim that the demolitions are “immediately necessary.” “How do you have an emergency if it’s been going on for five years and their own reports show that less drastic means can be taken short of demolition?” he asked.
The Pavilion today, as seen from above the roof of the Catholic chapel. In designating Hart Island eligible for listing on the National Register of Historic Places, New York State described both structures as “notable buildings.” They are now among the 18 old edifices slated for “immediate demolition” by the city.Credit…Alon Sicherman & Sean Vegezzi courtesy The Hart Island Project
On July 12, officials from the mayor’s office and the city Landmarks Preservation Commission held “an initial discussion” with the State Historic Preservation Office about the Hart Island project, according to a spokesman for the New York State Department of Parks, Recreation and Historic Preservation.
“City officials indicated that project work is not imminent in 2021, and that specific funding sources — a potential trigger for project review by the State Historic Preservation Office — have not been identified,” the state spokesman said. He added that state preservation officials “raised preliminary concerns about grave and archaeological resource protection, and advised the city to consider retaining an on-site archaeological monitor.”
In justifying the city’s emergency demolition order, the mayor’s spokesman said in an email that “city employees and city contractors are authorized” to be on Hart Island “for work associated with ongoing burial operations and island administration work throughout the island, in close proximity to these unsafe buildings.”
Amid the pandemic, the number of dead buried on the island last year more than doubled to 2,666 from the previous year, according to a public statement by Dina Maniotis, chief of staff of the city’s Office of Chief Medical Examiner.
In addition, the mayor’s spokesman said, unauthorized visitors travel to the island by boat, placing themselves at risk from severely deteriorated buildings. “In the interest of public safety,” he said, “the buildings must be fully demolished, and brought down to grade, with foundations removed.”
The 2020 internal Buildings Department draft report painted a more nuanced and somewhat less dire picture of the condition of Hart Island’s buildings and described how they might be made safe by fencing them off. But, noting that “no plans exist for the restoration or refurbishment of the remnant structures on the island,” the report recommended that the 16 dilapidated buildings be demolished for safety reasons.
The report also observed, however, that some of the island’s old buildings were not irrevocably deteriorated.
The red-brick Records Storage Building, constructed around 1910 facing a U-shaped young men’s reformatory that also still stands, “is suitable for repair and can be put into service,” the report observed. “With a footprint of approximately 35 feet by 35 feet, the building is not complicated to repair.”
The report recommended that the building, which has a shallow pyramidal roof with high clerestory windows, be made safe by fencing it rather than razing it, and city engineers rated its “ease of restoration” as “moderate to good.” But the structure is now slated to be leveled.
The 2020 report also described a one-story red-brick pumping station, dating to around the 1920s, as “viable for storage,” but it recommended demolition anyway.
The red-brick-and-stone Catholic Chapel, built by the Catholic Charities around 1935, “still stands in surprisingly good condition” despite the removal of its bell and stained-glass windows, noted a guidebook published in 2018 by the Historic Districts Council, a citywide preservation group. By 2020, Buildings Department engineers described the church’s “ease of restoration” as “moderate,” but they nonetheless recommended that it be razed.
The cornerstone for the chapel, at the time of its construction the only separate prison building in the United States set aside for Catholic services, was laid in 1931 by the rector of St. Patrick’s Cathedral at a ceremony attended by Protestant and Jewish clergymen, prominent citizens and about 1,000 prisoners. The house of worship replaced wooden chapels that had been built on the island by Catholic, Episcopal and Hebrew organizations, and it was used by all faiths.
In the 1950s, the chapel served homeless men living in a Hart Island rehabilitation center, but the religious building was abandoned in 1966, after the island’s workhouse closed. Under the city’s current emergency order, the chapel will be bulldozed.
The 1885 Pavilion was built as a 300-patient women’s asylum.
“Some of the buildings used as dormitories for the insane” on Hart Island, an 1890 grand jury concluded, “are a disgrace to civilization.”
“The water supply on this island is obtained from cisterns and driven wells,”the grand jury continued. “When it is known that 75,000 bodies lie buried” very close “to these cisterns, one can readily imagine what the character of the water must necessarily be.”
The asylum closed in 1895 and was later used as a workhouse for incarcerated young men. The 2020 report described the Pavilion as unsafe.
The mayor’s spokesman said that Buildings Department engineers were most recently on Hart Island in February and found that the 18 buildings now planned for demolition had continued to deteriorate and were in danger of further collapse.
A peace monument made of reinforced concrete, shown here in 2004, was erected by prisoners in 1948 on the former site of Civil War-era barracks. Under the city’s plan, it will be fenced and secured.Credit…Melinda Hunt Courtesy of The Hart Island Project
Not included in the demolition order are the modern field offices for Hart Island operations, two decommissioned Cold War-era Nike missile silos and a peace monument built by prisoners in the 1940s, which will be fenced and secured.
Notwithstanding the state’s determination that Hart Island contains notable archaeological and architectural resources, the city landmarks commission concluded in 2012, after surveying the island, that the buildings were in too advanced a state of disrepair to be viable for designation either as individual city landmarks or as a historic district.
At the commission’s recommendation, archaeologists will monitor for artifacts during subsurface work performed as part of the planned demolition project. A Historic American Buildings Survey of the 18 doomed buildings will also be prepared, documenting the structures before their destruction.
Simeon Bankoff, executive director of the Historic Districts Council, said that the planned demolition “of 18 recognized, publicly owned historic structures by the City of New York” should be aired in public hearings under the city’s environmental quality review process.
“What we don’t want is a rush to action by government without a clearly defined plan and without an opportunity for public stakeholders to weigh in and opine on that plan,” he said. “This is a huge public project with implications for all of New York, because it has implications for anyone who has relatives or loved ones buried on the island, as well as for how Hart Island is going to be utilized and accessed moving forward into the future.”
Mr. Lester, the environmental lawyer, said that the issue of knocking down Hart Island’s buildings without an environmental review was larger than the fate of the specific buildings.
“What’s at stake is the rule of law, and it affects everyone’s life because it affects how the city considers the environment or doesn’t consider the environment,” he said. By declaring an emergency and forgoing the customary environmental review, he said, “they avoid oversight, they avoid having to come up with alternatives, they avoid having public comment, they avoid having to consider mitigating actions and they circumvent democracy.”
Melinda Hunt, president of the Hart Island Project, a nonprofit group that advocates for the restoration of the island as a natural burial ground and wilderness site, said that she wholeheartedly supported the mayor’s demolition plan and that preserving the burial process on the island was far more important than preserving buildings.
“City Cemetery is a historic site for marginalized people whose histories have long been overlooked,” she said. “The buildings are offensive to thousands of low-income families whose relatives are buried in close proximity to former prison facilities.” She added that the buildings should be removed “to honor and provide access to the gravesites of low-income people of color.”
Herbert Sweat Jr., whose infant daughter was buried on Hart Island along with many of his forebears, said he was in favor of preserving all buildings that could help give perspective on the island’s many transfigurations. “From my travels over there,” he said, “I have seen with my own eyes, brick and mortar where you can tell the bricks were reused” from Civil War-era buildings and survive as part of extant structures.
Mr. Sweat, 72, former chairman of Black Veterans for Social Justice, said he wanted the island transferred to the National Park Service and that a memorial should be erected for the 31st Regiment of the United States Colored Troops, an African-American regiment that was organized and trained on Hart Island during the Civil War. The regiment fought several battles, pursued Commander Robert E. Lee’s Confederate Army to Appomattox and was on hand for the Confederate surrender in 1865.
But Mr. Sweat said that he had never been taught any of that history in Brooklyn public schools and that demolishing Hart Island’s buildings would similarly deprive New Yorkers of a tangible connection with their past.
“That’s how the taking away of history from the people is done — they take it out of our sight,” he said. “That’s so deep, because how do you destroy that type of history? How many thousands of people have been transformed in those buildings that held them and ministered to them before they either went into the ground or went back into the city? As quiet as it’s kept, they hide what went on with the people there.”
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ISLAND HOUSE GARDEN TO THE WEST OF THE 555 ENTRANCE.
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