Archive for August 2011
unnumbered crimes
– photo by Mitch Waxman
note: despite the title, this a “just the facts” brand posting
Cortlandt Alley is a vestigial connection between Franklin and Canal Streets in Manhattan, crossing White and Walker on its path. If it looks familiar, it should, as many commercial photographers utilize the location for its noir aesthetics and patois of urban decay. One may often observe a shoot going on here, a sharp contrast to the sort of lurid business which one might have seen on this street a mere twenty years ago (which discouraged the presence of cameras).
Today, my focus turns to an enigmatic structure on the corner of Walker Street and Cortlandt Alley.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
According to the best sources I could find, Walker Street was scratched onto the maps of New York sometime in 1810. Pavement came along in 1819, and by the 1870’s a street railway connected the area (via West Broadway) to the far distant East River. This was considered a near suburb in those hoary days of the early middle 19th century, and this was fairly close to if not the actual border of the Bloody Sixth Ward (I’ve seen conflicting accounts describing the borders of the 6th ward).
All accounts agree that this area, known as “Tribeca Historic District” in modernity, served the city as a mercantile center which took advantage of the ample docks on the nearby North (Hudson) River for the importation of foreign goods.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The intriguing (and officially Landmarked) Latimer Building was raised sometime between 1860 and 1862 for developers Barret Ames and E.D. Hunter. Municipal sources indicate that it stands on land once occupied by a part of the legendary Florence’s Hotel, whose main address was on the confluence of the North side of Walker with Broadway. Supposition is also offered by these selfsame governmental entities that the “Latimer” indicated by the cornice art would have been a fellow named Edward Latimer, a SOHO merchant- although I haven’t been able to confirm this independently.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The modern occupants of the building follow a historical pattern of tenancy by garment manufacturers, book publishers, and building trade jobbers. A “jobber” is a company or individual who imports and resells manufactured goods, and offers installation and delivery services for the materials they handle.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Occupying 72-76 Walker Street, the Latimer is a relict and vestige of New York’s industrial past. Single floor factory operations and garment assembly shops- sweat shops as they were and are known- once provided occupation and employment for large numbers of immigrant poor. In my own family, certain individuals who enjoyed an exalted peer status and exhibited financial success were “pattern cutters” and “dock foremen” and employed nearby, while others (like my own grandmother) were “sewers”. One of my Aunts actually worked at Triangle Shirtwaist.
Back then, this was an overwhelmingly jewish industry. Modern day economics seems to favor the presence of Asian and Latino work forces, as the earlier ethnic laborers have moved on to explore other synergies.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The Cortlandt Alley side of the Latimer exhibits the “fireproof window doors” once common in the days before sprinkler fire suppression systems became mandatory in such structures. Additionally, iron rails and reinforced concrete still extant point out that there was once a loading dock on the Alley side which has disappeared sometime in the intervening decades since the completion of the building in 1860. The fire escapes are a later addition, of course, which were mandated by the precursor of the FDNY sometime in the late 19th or early 20th centuries.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The grand appearance of the building is somewhat muted at street level, and it blends into the dark melange of relict buildings and ancient tenements which typify the parts of Manhattan just North and West of “Chinatown”. The age of Walker Street is betrayed by not just by its narrow bed, but by belgian blocks bursting through modern asphalt and the occasional stone curbs which still line it.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The charming ambience of the “old days” has rendered many of these former industrial spaces into mixed use buildings- and many of them are now the exclusive and dearly held apartments of millionaire dilettantes. According to one Forbes magazine report in 2006, this was the most expensive section of New York City in which one might seek domestic housing.
exceeding magnitude
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Recently, an invitation to attend a lecture offered by a prominent maritime scholar drew both myself and the Newtown Pentacle’s far eastern correspondent Armstrong to lower Manhattan. Early for the evenings presentation, we decided to wander aimlessly around the imposing edifices of the municipality and see what we could see. St. Andrew’s Roman Catholic Church drew attention to itself and since I had never visited the celebrated structure, we approached and entered the Georgian Revival church.
from wikipedia
The Church of St. Andrew is a Roman Catholic parish church in the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of New York, located at 20 Cardinal Hayes Place, Manhattan, New York City. It was established in 1842 and has been staffed by the Blessed Sacrament Fathers ever since.
In 1892, the address listed was on Duane Street, and the corner of City Hall Place.
The present building was erected in 1939 through a joint effort involving the famous Boston firm Maginnis & Walsh and Robert J. Reiley of New York. It is one of the best examples of the Georgian Revival architectural style in New York. St. Andrew is the only New York City church to be designed by Maginnis & Walsh.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Subsequent antiquarian research revealed that the site was originally a “friends” or Universalist meeting house, and had been acquired by the then struggling Roman Catholics for use by the surging tide of congregants arriving into Manhattan, some from war ravaged southern Germany but most were arriving from famine stricken Ireland. The stately appliances and forbidding iconography of lower manhattan were not in place yet, and this neighborhood had an entirely different character. This was the worst slum on earth, more crowded than Bombay and twice as dangerous, according to Charles Dickens.
The Five Points and the infamous Old Bailey were nearby, the legendary Collect Pond was across the street, and despite Dagger John Hughes being a mere Bishop during this period- he had already seen the need for expansion.
from nycago.org
The Roman Catholic parish of St. Andrew was established in 1843 when Father Andrew Byrne transformed Carroll Hall into St. Andrew’s Church. Built in 1818 for the Congregational Society of United Christian Friends, Carroll Hall was, in 1841, the site where Catholics rallied to fight denial of public funding for parochial schools. Father Byrne was the pastor until 1844, when he was named the first bishop of the new Diocese of Little Rock, comprised of the entire State of Arkansas and all of the Indian Territory, and was consecrated that year in St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Cardinal Patrick J. Hayes, for whom the church’s street was renamed, was born in a house next door to St. Andrew’s Church, and was baptized here in 1867.
Tragedy struck the church in 1875 when, during a severe storm, the building next door collapsed, causing the ceiling of the church to drop onto 1,200 who were attending an evening mass during Lent. Many were killed or wounded, and a panic ensued because the main entrance of the church was locked.
In 1900, Father Luke J. Evers began a 2:30 am Mass for night workers who were employed in the nearby Printing House Square, where the Sun, Telegraph, Times, and World newspapers were then published. This tradition continued for more than 50 years, and the church became known as “The Printers’ Church.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
St. Andrew, according to several variants and doctrinal versions, is meant to have been a disciple of John the Baptist and brother of the apostle (and church founder) Simon Peter. He’s the patron saint of Scotland, and of the Patriarchate of Constantinople. The X shaped device he bears is the instrument of his death by crucifixion, and the legends say that he pleaded with the Romans not to crucify him in the same manner as Jesus (as he was unworthy of the honor) so they used the X or Crux Decussata configuration instead of the T.
It should be pointed out that the Romans were not known for granting last requests in those days, and that this iconography emerged only in the late middle ages according to scholarly sources.
from A history of the churches, of all denominations, in the city of New York 1846, courtesy google books
St. Andrew’s Church.
In the year 1840, another Catholic Church was formed, called ” St. Andrew’s Church,” under the pastoral charge of the Rev. John Maginnis. A house of worship, originally built by a Universalist Society, situated on Duane street, near Chatham, was purchased, and here they remain.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The interior of the church was staid and tasteful, and there were a couple of people praying so I kept to the side. There were beautiful confessional booths set into the walls, exquisitely carven and tastefully placed, but as the light was quite dim within the church – and not wanting to disturb the parishioners- I decided against setting up a tripod to do a long exposure shot.
The image above and below were gathered by merely laying my camera down on the pews instead to accomplish the long shutter speed’s need for stabilization.
There was a feeling of emptiness, a quiet void, within the building- it was the quietest corner of Lower Manhattan I’ve experienced to date. The thick walls and heavy doors insulated the place from all but the loudest exhalations of the constant outside tumult.
from A brief sketch of the early history of the Catholic Church on the island of New York, 1870, courtesy google books
The year 1841 was made famous in the history of Catholicity in New York by the agitation of the “School Question,” as it was called. Previous to that time, the public instruction had been in the hands of a close corporation, under the title of the Public School Society, which administered and distributed, according to its own good pleasure, the funds provided by the city for the purpose of education.
The books used in these schools abounded with the usual stereotyped falsehoods against the Catholic religion, and the fnost vexatious and open system of proselytism was carried on in them. The evil became finally so great, that no alternative was left for Catholic parents but either to prevent their children from attending the schools at all, or to cause an entire change to be made in the system; under the advice and active leadership of the Bishop, a systematic attempt was made to call the attention of the community and public authorities to the subject, and after a severe contest it resulted in the establishment of the present Common School system.
The Bishop delivered two lectures upon the subject in Carroll Hall, but one of the most triumphant defences of the principle contended for by the Catholics was made by him in a speech before the Common Council of New York, in which he replied to the arguments of Messrs. Ketchum and Sedgwick, who had been employed by the Public School Society as their counsel, and also to Dr. Bond, Dr. Spring, and others who had volunteered in its support.
Experience has since shown, however, that the nw system, though administered with as much impartiality and fairness as could be expected under the circumstances, is one which, as excluding all religious instruction, is most fatal to the moral and religious principles of our children, and makes it evident that our only resource is to establish schools of our own, where sound religious knowledge shall be imparted at the same time with secular instruction. If we needed any evidence upon the matter, it would be found in the conduct and behavior of those of our children who are educated under the Christian Brothers, when contrasted with those who are exposed to the pernicious influences of a public school.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Dagger John Hughes, through no fault of his own, is the reason why education in the City of New York is both secular and overseen by a municipal agency. His determination to have anti Catholic rhetoric removed from the curricula of the Public School Society, and the controversy surrounding the issue, resulted in an 1842 decision by the State Government in Albany to form the Board of Education of the City of New York.
from Harper’s magazine, Volume 40 1870, courtesy google books
The Public School Society ceased to be the almoner of the public moneys.
Principle forbade that the State should become tributary to the hierarchy. Policy forbade that it should leave the grievances of the Church, real or imaginary, wholly unredressed. A middle course was adopted. Once, at least, in the history of legislation a compromise has resulted in the adoption of a permanent and beneficent principle.
A Board of Education was appointed for the city of New York.
All public funds were placed in their hands for distribution. The schools of the Public School Society were among those named in the act as entitled to share in the distribution of this fund. No school in which any religious sectarian doctrine or tenet should be taught might have the same privilege. Such, in a sentence, was the school law of 1842. For its existence the State owes an incalculable debt of gratitude to two ecclesiastics, either of whom would have bitterly opposed it to the last.
That the school system of New York city is a system, that education is no longer doled out as a charity to the poor, either by the Churches or by philanthropic societies, but is awarded to all, as a right, by the State, is due largely, if not chiefly, to the unintentional offices of Rev. Jonathan Chase and Archbishop Hughes, who succeeded in promoting the very legislation which they were most desirous to prevent.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Anti Catholic bigotry is what Dagger John called it, and it was decided that the Catholic Church would need to set up its own schools- parochial schools- where Doctrine would be part and parcel of the lesson plan. Great Universities and thousands of schools would be founded within just a few years, but the soon to be Archbishop Hughes already had his gaze fixed upon his next great project.
A large parcel of land in Queens would be acquired to house the mortal remains of his ever expanding flock. This land- found along the Newtown Creek- he would consecrate it as his Calvary Cemetery.
from wikipedia
He was consecrated bishop on January 7, 1838 with the titular see of Basileopolis. He succeeded to the bishopric of the diocese of New York on December 20, 1842 and became an archbishop on July 19, 1850, when the diocese was elevated to the status of archdiocese.
Hughes, influenced by the reactionary stance of Pope Pius IX, was a staunch opponent of Abolitionism and the Free Soil movement. In 1850 he delivered an address entitled “The Decline of Protestantism and Its Causes,” in which he announced as the ambition of Roman Catholicism “to convert all Pagan nations, and all Protestant nations . . . Our mission [is] to convert the world—including the inhabitants of the United States—the people of the cities, and the people of the country . . . the Legislatures, the Senate, the Cabinet, the President, and all!”
He also campaigned actively on behalf of Irish immigrants, and attempted to secure state support for religious schools. He protested against the United States Government for using the King James Bible in public schools, claiming that it was an attack on Catholic constitutional rights of double taxation, because Catholics would need to pay taxes for public school and also pay for the private school to send their children, to avoid the Protestant translation of the Bible. When he failed to secure state support, he founded an independent Catholic school system which was taken into the Catholic Church’s core at the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore, 1884, which mandated that all Parishes have a parochial school and that all Catholic children be sent to those schools.
escaping forever
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There is just so much to do.
This weekend, as in Saturday the 13th, Forgotten-NY strides confidently into Long Island City for a walking tour of Hunters Point. The inestimable local historian Richard Melnick will be assisting the titan intellect called Kevin Walsh with narration and sartorial anecdote, and I will be scuttling around the crowd. Additionally, I did the photography which will appear in the complimentary tour booklet.
Address your clicking to this link for more information from forgotten-NY on the Hunters Point walking tour.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Last weekend, your humble narrator was onboard when Riverkeeper conveyed a nervous group of interested civilian observers into the languishing mists of the occluded Newtown Creek. Opportunities to explore the Creek like this are rare, even for those of working for the Newtown Creek Alliance (which is how I ended up on the boat), and hazardous to both physical and mental health. We explored several of the more malign tributaries of the great urban waterway in a small rowboat outfitted with an outboard motor, and experienced things that left all shaken.
Several hundred photos of the expedition will be made public and available for sorting and inspection within the next few days, and they will exhibit a level of environmental ruination -perhaps too terrible to live with- for those who would dare to look. Certain knowledge cannot be unlearned, after all, and for many- ignorance is preferable to living with such facts.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Additionally, efforts on behalf of the Working Harbor Committee continue as we ramp up to the Great North River Tugboat Race. Of course this event will be happening while the WHC “Hidden Harbor” schedule is underway.
The Hidden Harbor ticketed tours:
- Brooklyn: Detailed narration on and about the historic shoreline from Newtown Creek to the Gowanus Canal.
- Newark Bay: explore the industrial corridor of the harbor along the Kill Van Kull (aka “Tugboat Alley”) and witness Port Elizabeth Newark.
- North River: the Hudson, it’s former industrial might and bright future.
- Specialty tours like my own “Newtown Creek” tour, and the “Light Houses” tour.
- Other private events designed for the benefit of both students and Seniors.
The great North River Tugboat Race will be held on September 4th, and there are limited seats available on the Circle Line observer boat which will be pacing the action as best as it can manage. On Pier 84 (foot of west 44th street in Manhattan at the Hudson River) there will also be free events and fun, including a rope throwing contest, best sailor Tattoo, and a Spinach eating contest.
blessed are the sleepy…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As opined in the past, illegal dumping is a bit of an art form here in Queens, and it is not uncommon to find largish domestic items binned out at the entrance to this industrial site or that rail yard. In this case, it’s a rather plush sofa which was left nearby one of the entrances to the Sunnyside Yard, which offered this fellow an opportunity to drop off for a quick nap.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The ability to sleep in public has always been denied to me, even as a child (much to the chagrin of Mr. and Mrs. Narrator). I marvel at the Asian folks who can catch a quick kip standing up on the R train every day, am jealous of the minute naps which others can surrender to, and can’t imagine leaving myself this vulnerable on the street for even a minute.
Back in the 80’s, if you fell asleep on the subway, someone would steal your shoes.
sinister exultation
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It was a mid summer day in the city, July 24th to be exact, and the kind of weather which feels like one has been wrapped in hot barber shop towels was upon us. Occluded by a humid and occasionally precipitating mist, the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself was absent from the scene, but its influence was seen and felt by everyone here in this old section of Long Island City once known as the Degnon Terminal.
While marching down Skillman Avenue, your humble narrator could not help but notice a not so minor conflagration at the nearby Hunters Point rail station.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It seems that an Amtrak engine, part of a problematic series of units employed by the rail conglomerate which are known as being given to sudden and unexpected events of immolation (or so my rail fan contacts tell me) had caught fire.
It was no surprise that the only camera on the scene was my own, as there are few in the Greater City who care for Queens and it’s burdens. FDNY (which does care about Queens) was on scene in great numbers, including members of several units which the Manhattan Political Elites had recently attempted to close due to budget issues.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The engine seemed to be suffering from an electrical issue, which was anecdotally confirmed by one of the fire department commanders who was gracious enough to discuss the issue with me. Frustration was evinced by this veteran of New York’s never ending war on combustion that the spot which the engine had halted at was beyond the reach of his hose lines, and that they could only put band aids on the fire using hand held extinguishers.
There were literally dozens of fire team specialists in full tactical gear and several mobile command posts arrayed at strategic spots around the rail yard, but their ambitions were stymied by security fence and distance from hydrants.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The commander, a lanky Irishman of solid build whose height easily passed the six foot mark, next informed me that their plan was to bring a second engine in from the nearby Sunnyside Yard complex and hitch it to the back of the train.
This second unit would then tow the burning engine and it’s passenger cars back to the titan Sunnyside Yard where both equipment and resources to combat the blaze would be available and abundant.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Over the last few years, of course, your humble narrator has discovered or happened across every possible vantage point large enough to stick a camera lens through around the fenced off and often carefully obscured rail infrastructure which weaves through Western Queens and knowing FDNY’s plan, moved into a more propitious spot to record the event.
One must be careful when photographing trains and trackways, lest one accidentally step onto federal or state property and violate not just homeland security regulations but archaic laws which have persisted since the early days of the iron road, many of which carry mandatory sentences.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The irony of these so called regulations, of course, is that whether it is because of expedience or carelessness, many of the employee entrances to the rail yard are often left ajar and unguarded. Was this to occur in Manhattan, there would undoubtedly be a series of broadcast and print media articles and investigations, followed by political posturing and a spate of sham regulations.
Since this is Queens, where the Borough motto should be “welcome to Queens, now go fuck yourself”, nothing will happen and the issue will never be discussed.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The smell of burning insulation and plastics mixed freely with the humid air, and a monstrous storm was building in the milky sky. Far off thunder to the south indicated that a storm was coming. Your humble narrator, not too far from home however, persevered and dared the weather to do it’s worst.
Besides, the reason I was on Skillman Avenue in the first place was that I had to meet some guy to talk about a thing down here, and I caught this whole event simply because Queens wanted me to witness her burdens again.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Perhaps it’s the impending anniversary of the September 11 attacks, or merely the normal late summer ennui which always darkens my mood, but the notion that the FDNY hasn’t got fire hose lines long enough to put out a train fire here- at so critical a spot in the infrastructure of the Megalopolis, and that an ordinary civilian like myself can so easily gain visual and physical access to all this- worries me.
In my travels across the concrete desolations of the river communities of North Brooklyn and Western Queens, there are so many of these unguarded and strategic points which have presented themselves that frankly- I don’t like taking the Train or Ferry anymore. When I point these vulnerabilities out to associates who are employed by government agencies or elected officials, they roll their eyes and tell me not to worry.
Same thing they used to do when I wondered out loud back in the 90’s about whether or not the United States had a system of air defenses protecting the defacto capitol city of North America.































