Archive for the ‘newtown creek’ Category
scenes familiar, and loved
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Exhausted, determined to return to my lonely paths and isolated experiences, the only solace possible for an Outsider such as myself is amongst the tomb legions. Exertion and social obligation has brought me, repeatedly within the last few months, amongst the vivacious and brightly lit corridors of the human infestation and forced me into uncomfortable and uncontrolled interaction with those who thrive in such circumstance. Gaunt yet flabby, the squamous shadow of your humble narrator is cast comfortably in only one place- the fossilized heart of this Newtown Pentacle.
Welcome back, to Calvary.
from wikipedia
Calvary Cemetery is located at 49-02 Laurel Hill Blvd. in Woodside in the New York City borough of Queens, New York. The cemetery is managed by the Trustees of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, New York. It is one of the oldest and largest cemeteries in the United States. In 1847, faced with cholera epidemics and a shortage of burial grounds in Manhattan, the New York State Legislature passed the Rural Cemetery Act authorizing nonprofit corporations to operate commercial cemeteries. Old St. Patrick’s Cathedral trustees had purchased land in Maspeth in 1846, and the first burial in Calvary Cemetery there was in 1848. By 1852 there were 50 burials a day, half of them the Irish poor under seven years of age
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At the center of Calvary Cemetery, First Calvary that is, is a concrete temple which functions as a mortuary chapel in addition to maintaining an abbreviated schedule of Mass. The noted Catholic architect Raymond F. Almirall, responding to the request of Archbishop Farley in 1903, designed this beaux arts masterpiece to be constructed for the then princely sum of $200,000. Farley conceived of this place, and the subterranean structure beneath it, after a trip to the Holy See in Rome.
for more on Archbishop Farley, from google books
In 1884 Pope Leo XIII made him private chamberlain with the title monsignor, and Cardinal McCloskey appointed him permanent rector of the church of Saint Gabriel, New York, where he remained until he was made archbishop. In 1891 he was madevicar-general of the archdiocese of New York. In 1892 he was made domestic prelate to Leo XIII, and in 1895 prothonotary apostolic, all of which positions gave him special privileges. In December 1895 he was consecrated titular bishop of Zeugma, and became assistant to the archbishop of New York. When the see of New York became vacant by the death of Archbishop Corrigan (1902), the lists of names sent to Rome by the suffragan bishops and permanent rectors each had at the head the name of Bishop Farley as first choice for archbishop. He received his appointment from Leo XIII, but the pallium was conferred under Pius X, on 15 Sept. 1902. He was the fourth archbishop of New York and governed one of the largest Roman Catholic dioceses in the world. He was the metropolitan of the ecclesiastical province of New York, which is composed of eight dioceses outside the archdiocese which includes also the Bahama Islands; six in the State of New York and two in New Jersey. The author of the ‘Life of Cardinal McCloskey,’ Archbishop Farley was also a contributor to various magazines, and took great interest in movements for the social welfare of the city. He was created cardinal by Pope Pius X, 27 Nov. 1911. At the time of his death (1918) the archdiocese of New York comprised a Catholic population estimated at 1,350,000; 1,117 priests; 388 churches; parochial schools attended by 91,140 children; 25 orphanages; 27 hospitals, and other institutions, benevolent and educational.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Beneath the chapel, as it was designed, there is meant to be a two square acre catacomb whose only connection to the surface world is a shaft which rises some fifty feet to the surface. The Chapel itself utilizes the normal cruciform plan favored by the Roman Catholics since antiquity, and is some 60×120 feet, and a cupola rises some 90 feet above level ground and is crowned by a statue of the “Risen Christ”.
The cavern beneath the chapel is similarly in a the shape of a cross and designed as a mausoleum for the fallen priests of the city.
from google books, a popular mechanics article about the place
From the architect’s point of view, the most unusual feature is the method of construction of the dome and the groined vault on which it rests, both of which are regarded by experts as feats in reinforced concrete construction. The dome is 40 ft. across and the height from the floor to the lantern is 38 ft. It rises 50 ft. higher from that point and its total weight is 360 tons. The vault has eight penetrations, four large and four small, and both the lining of golden yellow brick and the pink Minnesota sandstone trimmings are held in place simply by adhesion to the concrete. In order to build this dome, it was necessary to build a falsework with all the accuracy of a mould, so that the brick could be laid against the forms, and the concrete with its steel reinforcement placed in the moulds. When the concrete had set, the falsework was removed, and the great dome stood as an imposing architectural crown to the structure, as well as a feat in construction.
The crypts or catacombs are for the burial of the priests of the diocese of New York, under the charge of which the cemetery is maintained. At present, but one section of the catacombs has been completed with accommodations for twenty-four bodies in the concrete niches. But the section can be extended underground in four directions, and at any time an addition for seventy-two more bodies can be made. For a cryptal burial there is a lift set into the floor of the chapel to lower the body to the level of the crypts.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Despite my mongrel familiarity with this place, your humble narrator has always avoided entering the chapel due mainly to a combination of cowardice and empathy.
Imagine the reaction of some wholesome priest or grieving parishioner when seeing this scuttling alien shamble into their sanctum sanctorum. They might look up and see an odd creature in a dirty black raincoat, with its widely separated glassy eyes and tightly stretched fish belly white skin betraying the presence of yellowing bone and rotting organ beneath, and question the faith that keeps them here. How could a merciful god allow an abomination such as myself to exist- a furtive fuligin clad thing stinking of the Newtown Creek’s corruptions- let alone enter the most hallowed ground in the Archdiocese while the thermonuclear eye of god still shines down from on high? Certainly at night such manifestations of the macabre can be expected, but during the day?
It’s usually best for all that I remain at the side of the room, the rear of the bus, and near the end of the line- lest lightning strike another in error.
from wikipedia
The Rural Cemetery Act led to Queens being a borough of cemeteries. Queens is home to 29 cemeteries holding more than five million graves and entombments, so that the “dead population” of the borough is more than twice the size of its live population. The large concentration of cemeteries on the border of Brooklyn and Queens is another effect of the law. Under the Act, each individual cemetery organization was limited to no more than 250 acres (1 km²) in one county, but some organizations circumvented that limit by purchasing larger parcels straddling the boundaries of two counties. As result, 17 cemeteries straddle the border between Queens and Brooklyn. As with Queens, the “dead population” of Brooklyn is estimated to exceed its living population. In 1917 a state legislator from Queens complained that the law and the concentration of cemeteries that it had produced resulted in more than one-fifth of Queens’ land being exempt from property tax. As of 1918 more than 22,000 acres (89 km2) of land in Queens were owned by private tax-exempt cemeteries. Under current New York law, all cemetery property is exempt from property taxation, but current law allows the governments of Brooklyn, Queens, and certain other New York counties to limit the establishment of new cemeteries within their boundaries.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Nevertheless, this day, I mustered the tiny sparks of manhood within me and drawing a sharp breath- entered the chapel. Which was… disappointing. “Rather mundane, and shabbily maintained given the pristine groundskeeping and manicured care given the monuments outside” was my initial reaction. Also, it was rather dark within, and I was forced to use the camera flash in addition to setting my camera to a high ISO setting. Notice, if you would, the lack of dust in the air of the place- which would be catching and reflecting the flash back at the lens- backscatter as its called.
This is a rather important point, as we’ll discuss later on in the post.
from wikipedia
The term backscatter in photography refers to light from a flash or strobe reflecting back from particles in the lens’s field of view causing specks of light to appear in the photo. This gives rise to what are sometimes referred to as orb artifacts. Photographic backscatter can result from snowflakes, rain or mist, or airborne dust. Due to the size limitations of the modern compact and ultra-compact cameras, especially digital cameras, the distance between the lens and the built-in flash has decreased, thereby decreasing the angle of light reflection to the lens and increasing the likelihood of light reflection off normally sub-visible particles. Hence, the orb artifact is commonplace with small digital or film camera photographs.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My main concern was finding the possible location of the fifty foot shaft mentioned in the paragraph above, which is meant to be at the center of the building. The mosaic floor has obviously suffered the effects of use and a century of weathering, but there was this metal edged structure in it that was roughly the size and shape of a standard coffin. Unless I’m missing my guess, this is the hatch to that shaft.
I have been wrong before, so don’t take my word for it, but according to my researches, this is where it SHOULD be- and it fits the description as put forward in the Popular Mechanics article linked to above.
from wikipedia
The first place to be referred to as catacombs were the underground tombs between the 2nd and 3rd milestones of the Appian Way in Rome, where the bodies of the apostles Peter and Paul, among others, were said to have been buried. The name of that place in late Latin was catacumbae, a word of obscure origin, possibly deriving from a proper name, or else a corruption of the Latin phrase cata tumbas, “among the tombs”. The word referred originally only to the Roman catacombs, but was extended by 1836 to refer to any subterranean receptacle of the dead, as in the 18th-century Paris catacombs.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The cavern below is meant to house individually cemented cells for the dead clerics, and these individual resting places- as well as the ossuary that eventually houses their more enduring remains in the Italian and French manner- is lined with stone quarried from the domed hills of Vermont- a nearby northern state of sylvan wildernesses which produce and maintains a vast mythology even in this age of reason and ration.
One wonders why the alluvial deposits of the Green Mountain state were called upon to line and ornament this unseen chamber, and if it might have relation to the odd occurrences in and around Townshend Vermont in 1927 and 1928.
from wikisource.org
The whole matter began, so far as I am concerned, with the historic and unprecedented Vermont floods of November 3, 1927. I was then, as now, an instructor of literature at Miskatonic University in Arkham, Massachusetts, and an enthusiastic amateur student of New England folklore. Shortly after the flood, amidst the varied reports of hardship, suffering, and organized relief which filled the press, there appeared certain odd stories of things found floating in some of the swollen rivers; so that many of my friends embarked on curious discussions and appealed to me to shed what light I could on the subject. I felt flattered at having my folklore study taken so seriously, and did what I could to belittle the wild, vague tales which seemed so clearly an outgrowth of old rustic superstitions. It amused me to find several persons of education who insisted that some stratum of obscure, distorted fact might underlie the rumors.
The tales thus brought to my notice came mostly through newspaper cuttings; though one yarn had an oral source and was repeated to a friend of mine in a letter from his mother in Hardwick, Vermont. The type of thing described was essentially the same in all cases, though there seemed to be three separate instances involved – one connected with the Winooski River near Montpelier, another attached to the West River in Windham County beyond Newfane, and a third centering in the Passumpsic in Caledonia County above Lyndonville. Of course many of the stray items mentioned other instances, but on analysis they all seemed to boil down to these three. In each case country folk reported seeing one or more very bizarre and disturbing objects in the surging waters that poured down from the unfrequented hills, and there was a widespread tendency to connect these sights with a primitive, half-forgotten cycle of whispered legend which old people resurrected for the occasion.
What people thought they saw were organic shapes not quite like any they had ever seen before. Naturally, there were many human bodies washed along by the streams in that tragic period; but those who described these strange shapes felt quite sure that they were not human, despite some superficial resemblances in size and general outline. Nor, said the witnesses, could they have been any kind of animal known to Vermont. They were pinkish things about five feet long; with crustaceous bodies bearing vast pairs of dorsal fins or membranous wings and several sets of articulated limbs, and with a sort of convoluted ellipsoid, covered with multitudes of very short antennae, where a head would ordinarily be. It was really remarkable how closely the reports from different sources tended to coincide; though the wonder was lessened by the fact that the old legends, shared at one time throughout the hill country, furnished a morbidly vivid picture which might well have coloured the imaginations of all the witnesses concerned. It was my conclusion that such witnesses – in every case naive and simple backwoods folk – had glimpsed the battered and bloated bodies of human beings or farm animals in the whirling currents; and had allowed the half-remembered folklore to invest these pitiful objects with fantastic attributes.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Mission accomplished, and thankful that I happened into the place when it was deserted, your humble narrator decided to crack out a few more shots. Again, I messed around a little with exposure settings, hoping to combat the limited amount of available light within the structure. I emphatically state that beyond brightness and contrast, basic sharpening and color temperature adjustments- these shots are unaltered. The camera raw files are available for examination, and upon request, will be made downloadable.
from wikipedia
A camera raw image file contains minimally processed data from the image sensor of either a digital camera, image scanner, or motion picture film scanner. Raw files are so named because they are not yet processed and therefore are not ready to be printed or edited with a bitmap graphics editor. Normally, the image is processed by a raw converter in a wide-gamut internal colorspace where precise adjustments can be made before conversion to a “positive” file format such as TIFF or JPEG for storage, printing, or further manipulation, which often encodes the image in a device-dependent colorspace. These images are often described as “RAW image files”, although there is not actually one single raw file format. In fact there are dozens if not hundreds of such formats in use by different models of digital equipment (like cameras or film scanners).
Raw image files are sometimes called digital negatives, as they fulfill the same role as negatives in film photography: that is, the negative is not directly usable as an image, but has all of the information needed to create an image. Likewise, the process of converting a raw image file into a viewable format is sometimes called developing a raw image, by analogy with the film development process used to convert photographic film into viewable prints. The selection of the final choice of image rendering is part of the process of white balancing and color grading.
Like a photographic negative, a raw digital image may have a wider dynamic range or color gamut than the eventual final image format, and it preserves most of the information of the captured image. The purpose of raw image formats is to save, with minimum loss of information, data obtained from the sensor, and the conditions surrounding the capturing of the image (the metadata).
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Palpable and real, visits to First Calvary are draining experiences, from a psychic point of view. You are surrounded by rich imagery and the text screeds that adorn the monuments, which means that whether you want to or not, the names of those who are interred here are being read subconsciously and forcing themselves into your mind. The territory surrounding the place is the tautologically fabulous properties which comprise the Queens bank of that maligned font of inspiration which is the Newtown Creek (The Creeklands, as I call them), and the intricate steel lacing of bridge and rail that confines and contains whatever might be lurking beneath it. The experience is overwhelming, from a sensory point of view, and drains the experiencer of both cognitive alertness and physical energy. In short, after a 75-90 minute interval spent here, you want nothing more than to just lie down on the soft grass and sleep.
from wikipedia
Orb artifacts are captured during low-light instances where the camera’s flash is implemented, such as at night or underwater. The artifacts are especially common with compact or ultra-compact cameras, where the short distance between the lens and the built-in flash decreases the angle of light reflection to the lens, directly illuminating the aspect of the particles facing the lens and increasing the camera’s ability to capture the light reflected off normally sub-visible particles. The orb artifact can result from retroreflection of light off solid particles (e.g., dust, pollen), liquid particles (water droplets, especially rain) or other foreign material within the camera lens. The image artifacts usually appear as either white or semi-transparent circles, though may also occur with whole or partial color spectrums, purple fringing or other chromatic aberration. With rain droplets, an image may capture light passing through the droplet creating a small rainbow effect.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
So, here you are.
By the standards set by pop culture, the little white shape you see in the above shot at the “11 o’clock” position is a ghost orb, in a photograph shot at the Calvary Cemetery Chapel at 11:03 am on October 8th, 2010. Or dust.
What do you think? Click through to the larger size of the shot above at flickr and check it out at higher resolution.
tears of long weeping
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Your humble narrator, afflicted by vast physical cowardice and a strangely shy nature, rather enjoys visiting the location of an auspicious event long after its danger has faded away.
The event- an apocalyptic fire at the Sone and Fleming refinery in 1919 (seriously, click this link and check out the NYTimes report on this) that consumed a large chunk of the Greenpoint waterfront- drew me there some 90+ years after the fact. Of course, the Exxon facility which is handling the remediation of the great Greenpoint Oil spill is directly across the street from the structure pictured above, and stands on the site of the old Standard Oil yard which was immolated by that self same 1919 fire.
from a crainsnewyork report of June 25, 2010
Kalmon Dolgin also arranged the sale of an 114,000-square-foot development site at 365 Kingsland Ave., also in the area, for $10 million. Mr. Dolgin, along with his colleagues Mr. Nicholas and Jean Cook, represented both seller Broadway Stages and buyer Kingsland 359 LLC in the sale.
The property features a 20,000-square-foot building on a plot of 114,000 square feet zoned for industrial use. It was previously used for the parking and storing of trucks. The new owners who purchased the property plan to continue to use the site as an industrial storage facility.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The colour is impossible to ignore in this part of hoary Greenpoint, with its long industrial history and shadowed past. Iridescent, it is neither black nor gray, and this colour- like something out of space- seems to coat every sickly tree limb and worm eaten pilaster. The splendid isolation which is always supplied by the creeklands on the weekend is absent here, and one has the sense of being watched by hidden eyes. Perhaps it is just the security men, but intuitions suggest that some malefic presence or supernal intelligence is nearby, however that’s just ridiculous and paranoid.
from nysdecgreenpoint.com
The former ExxonMobil terminal is located at 400 Kingsland Avenue. The property is bordered by Newtown Creek to the east, various Norman and Kingsland Avenue businesses to the south, Kingsland Avenue to the west and the 460 Greenpoint Avenue property to the north. Two additional properties are also associated with the former ExxonMobil terminal property, the Monitor yard (located west of the terminal property between Kingsland Avenue and Monitor Street) and the North Henry Yard (located west of the Monitor yard between Monitor and North Henry Streets).
By 1892, five of the petroleum refineries in the Greenpoint area (Central Refining, Washington Oil Company, Kings Company Oil Refining, Empire Refining Company, and The Deove Manufacturing Brooklyn Oil Works) were purchased and became known as the Standard Oil Trust. In 1911, the Standard Oil Trust was dissolved and these properties became the Standard Oil Company of New York (SOCONY) and by 1929, had expanded to over 79 acres along Newtown Creek, including the property currently owned by BP. In 1931, SOCONY merged with the Vacuum Oil Company, which later became Mobil, and now is known as ExxonMobil. ExxonMobil ceased its refining operations in 1966 and in 1968, sold a portion of their property to Amoco Oil Company (Amoco) and other entities. Following the discovery of petroleum products seeping into Newtown Creek in 1978, ExxonMobil began to investigate and remediate the plume, and by 1993, had discontinued all fuel operations on the terminal property. In 2007, ExxonMobil removed the empty above ground storage tanks associated with its former refinery operations and is currently in the process of excavating and removing all underground piping from the former terminal property.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
When I let my imagination wander, on these long pilgrimages across this Newtown Pentacle, it often drifts to those days when the degenerate Dutch controlled the land we call Greenpoint.
In these early days the houses were heated by great wide open fire places in the living room. This was the place where the food was prepared and eaten and where the family in the evening gathered about the fire place, warmed themselves at the great log fire, and discussed family, social, and political affairs. The casual caller was entertained at this hospitable fire place. Wood was the only fuel and every farm had its wood lot. For the fire a huge back log was rolled into place, then smaller logs about six feet in length would be piled in front and on top of the back log. A roaring fire could easily be kept going to make the entire house comfortably warm except in bitter winter weather.
Each house had its outdoor oven in which the busy housewife could easily bake a dozen loaves of bread or as many pies at a time. The vigorous outdoor life was conducive to healthy appetites, but these Dutch families were all good providers. Large families were also the rule. This sparsely settled section gave small opportunity for social life. The farms were large and widely separated and the church and store a great distance away. The gallants who sued for the favor of the several daughters of Pieter PRAA and Maria Hay must have been rowed up and across the East River by their slaves in order to do their courting. All these daughters married merchants or professional men from across the river.
Prior to 1824 nearly all Dutch families were slave holders. Pieter PRAA was the owner of quite a number and in his will he provided that each slave should choose among which of the children he desired to serve. To his body servant. Jack, was given by terms of the will an island, a part of which is now Long Island City and which was known for more than a century later as “Jack’s Island.” Although not a large island it was sufficiently large for his maintenance. The Dutch enjoyed a reputation of treating their slaves with consideration. Although the act of 1824 freed all slaves in New York State, these black servants continued to regard themselves as members of the household to which they had formerly belonged. Many of these slaves had been brought up to a trade and there was work in abundance for all.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Its not the official story that I ponder, of course, and instead focus on the fascinating intercourse of cultures that must have happened amongst the working folk. Remember, historical records from the 17th and 16th centuries pay particular attention to the masters- not their slaves. What syncretic beliefs emerged in this place amongst the poor and working classes, with its admixture of religion and folk tradition combed together from far flung sources all over the Dutch trading empire, which stretched from the Americas through Europe and Africa and even included far off Pohnpei?
from slavenorth.com
Between 1636 and 1646 the price of able-bodied men in New Netherland rose about 300 percent. By 1660, slaves from Angola were selling for 300 guilders and those from Curaçao for about 100 guilders more. By the time the British took over the colony in 1664, slaves sold in New Amsterdam for up to 600 guilders. This was still a discount of roughly 10 percent over what they would have brought in the plantation colonies, but the West India Company had been subsidizing slavery in New Netherland to promote its economic progress. The Hudson Valley, where the land was monopolized in huge patroon estates that discouraged free immigration, especially relied on slaves.
The purely economic status of slaves in New Netherland contrasted with the malignant and sometimes bizarre racism of the religious British citizens who followed the Dutch into the north Atlantic colonies. Free blacks in New Netherland were trusted to serve in the militias, and slaves, given arms, helped to defend the settlement during the desperate Indian war of 1641-44. They were even used to put down the Rensselaerswyck revolt of white tenants. Blacks and whites had coequal standing in the colonial courts, and free blacks were allowed to own property (Jews, however, were not). They intermarried freely with whites and in some cases owned white indentured servants.
Slaves who had worked diligently for the company for a certain length of time were granted a “half-freedom” that allowed them liberty in exchange for an annual tribute to the company and a promise to work at certain times on company projects such as fortifications or public works. Individual slaveowners, such as Director General Peter Stuyvesant, adopted this system as well, and it enabled them to be free of the cost and nuisance of owning slaves year-round that they could only use in certain seasons. For the slaves, half-freedom was better than none at all.
skeptical, cynical, and disinclined
Note: This is another one of my “notebook” postings, which are often a little unfinished. When I’m studying something, all sources are initially considered, and sometimes a blind alley or false lead turns out to be wrong. I’m studying Greenpoint at the moment, not unlike the “Bloody Sixth Ward” posts that were presented a few months ago.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Another one of those little observations which serves to shock and stun the more recently arrived and strictly modern populations of the ancient cities found along the Newtown Creek, municipalities like Greenpoint or Long Island City, is that both long time residents and newcomers alike fish in these waters and consume their catches. Same thing happens along the Hudson, of course, and often it is financial necessity which demands that even suspect sources of protein such as those organisms routinely observed in New York Harbor make it to the dinner table. My Dad used to go crabbing along Fresh Creek, for instance, and off the Canarsie Pier.
According to the EPA, fish caught in Newtown Creek have been observed to be offered on neighborhood restaurant menus, so not everything that wriggles out of the water is meant for personal consumption.
It’s also fun, a chance to hang out at the waterfront with friends, as in the case of the anglers pictured above- a group of good natured Greenpointers who were exploiting (as I was) an open street end bulkhead on Kent Street, just off West. Don’t bother looking for it, or them, as fences have been thrown up around this spot at the end of the summer and it is no longer accessible by the general public.
from nycgovparks.org
When European mariners arrived here in the 17th century, they called the entire peninsula “Greenpoint” because of a grassy bluff on the bank of the East River. The Dutch bought Greenpoint, including what would become Williamsburg and Bushwick-Ridgewood, from the Keskachauge in 1638 and named it Boswijck (Bushwick) Township. A Scandinavian ship’s carpenter, Dirck Volckertsen, acquired Greenpoint from the Dutch in 1645. The land then passed to a Dutch military captain, Pieter Praa, and afterwards to an inventor and industrialist, Neziah Bliss.
For almost two centuries, the area thrived agriculturally and remained isolated from the rest of the region. At the time of the Revolutionary War, only five families lived in the Greenpoint area. Annetti Bennett, Pieter Praa’s daughter, and her husband Jacob built the first house near the playground site. This house was close to present-day Clay Street, between Manhattan Avenue and Franklin Street. The first road was built in Greenpoint in 1838, and a regular ferry service followed soon after.
When Greenpoint’s streets were further laid out in the mid-19th century, they received a letter designation in alphabetical order, running roughly southeast starting with A Street and ending with O Street. Many neighborhood residents did not like these initial names, and the streets were renamed with more colorful names, while keeping pattern. A Street became Ash Street, followed by Box, Clay, DuPont, Eagle, Freeman, Green, Huron, India, Java, Kent, Lincoln, Milton, Noble, and Oak. Lincoln Street was later changed to Greenpoint Avenue.
Industrialization and an influx of residents soon followed, flooding the newly laid streets. The area became known for shipbuilding, as well as for what were known as the five “black” arts: printing, oil refining, cast iron manufacturing, and glass and pottery making. By 1875, more than 50 oil refineries were located in Greenpoint, Williamsburg, and Bushwick. Charles Pratt’s great Astral Oil Works were located along nearby Newtown Creek. Notable products from Greenpoint include the first ironclad warship, The Monitor, built by Thomas Rowland’s Continental Ironworks at Calyer and West Streets. Examples of the wrought ironwork created during that period can still be seen in the details of Greenpoint residences and businesses today. Immigrants from Ireland, England, Russia, Italy, and Poland crowded into Greenpoint during the late 1800s to work in the factories.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Kent is just down the riverfront from Java street. The duo in the right corner of the shot above are actually sitting on the bulkheaded shoreline of Java, which was the location of the Meserole House- once found on the East River shoreline between India and the aforementioned Java street.
The Meseroles were one of the original Dutch families which populated Greenpoint, and were crazily well off by the financial standards of the time. In 1810, one of their descent- one Mary A. Meserole- married a particularly important person in Greenpoint (and Queens) history- the yankee engineer Neziah Bliss, and this is where their home once stood.
Bliss, of course, was a superintendent of the Novelty Iron Works in Manhattan and was instrumental in laying out the early roads that connected post colonial Greenpoint with the larger towns of Brooklyn and Queens, and ne of the fathers of the industrial city which would emerge later in the century.
from nyc.gov
Greenpoint is generally defined as the district bounded by North 7 Street on the south, the East River on the West, Newton Creek on the north and the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway on the east, corresponding approximately to the area of ward 17 in the 19 century. th
Once also known as Cherry Point, Greenpoint, got its name from the eponymous spit of grassy land that extended into the East River near the foot of what later became Freeman Street. The name came to designate all of the 17 ward when Greenpoint, Bushwick, and Williamsburg were joined to Brooklyn in 1854. At that time, the 17 ward was home to approximately 15,000 inhabitants. A sandy bluff, over one hundred feet high in some parts, overlooked the shoreline between Java and Milton Streets, but it was leveled before the middle of the 19 century for use as building material and landfill both in New York and locally. The original Greenpoint spit disappeared between 1855 and 1868 when the western half of the blocks along the once white sandy shoreline west of West Street were created by landfilling. During this period, the blocks west of Commerce Street between Ash and Eagle Streets were also created or in the process of being filled.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
By the late 19th century, and the first half of the 20th, this part of Brooklyn was defined by heavy industry and maritime interests. Vast agglutinations of what Dickens or Milton might have described as “dark satanic mills” lined the shore, until they were crowded out by the growing petrochemical industry. In the case of this locale, Kent Street that is, it was Jones’ Lumber Yard. The shot above is from a couple of blocks away near the remains of the Brooklyn Terminal Market around Noble Street complex, exhibited just for context.
also from nyc.gov
For Greenpointers in the first half of the 19 century, the waterfront was a place for both work and play. Before oil refineries lined the shore, the waters of Newtown Creek were ideal for boating, fishing and swimming. At the mouth of the creek, where it joins the East River, Pottery Beach, named for early pottery works that operated there, was a favorite place for swimming. Above the beach rose Pottery Hill, where spectators gathered to watch the start of yacht races up the East River. At other times, thousands lined both sides of the creek to watch oarsmen race their sculls from the Manhattan Avenue Bridge to the Penny Bridge at Meeker Avenue, two bridges that no longer exist.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Friends who grew up here warn me not to talk with people you might meet along the waterfront, lest I find out more about the ancient place than is desirable, and that the whole stretch of West Street was once a stupidly dangerous place to be at any time of day- but especially at night.
One buddy of mine, a highly corruptible italian irish hybrid employed by certain union interests, swears that the entirety of the East River waterfront in Greenpoint is haunted- “and I mean effin ghosts- bro- izz-all-fockt-up down there”. He describes odd shadows cast by impossible forms, and half imagined faces that appear in the flash of automobile headlamps.
Greenpoint is a very, very strange place- apparently.
and finally, also from nyc.gov
Another important shipbuilder of the time was John Englis of New York City, who established a ship yard on the Greenpoint river front between Java and Kent Streets. He manufactured some of the ships that were used in the blockade of the Confederate states during the Civil War; vessels for the China trade, and passenger steamers. Englis’ shipyard, established in 1850, endured until 1911. The Sneeden and Rowland shipyard, formed as a partnership between Thomas Fitch Rowland and Samuel Sneeden in 1859, was also located along the East River waterfront. The first contact awarded to Sneeden and Rowland was for the manufacture of the wrought-and cast-iron pipes, 7½ feet in diameter, to carry the water over the Highbridge Aqueduct of the Croton system. The partnership was dissolved in 1860, and Rowland reorganized the company, renaming it the Continental Works.
