Posts Tagged ‘Calvary Cemetery’
Tales of Calvary 11- Keegan and Locust Hill
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The monument to Charles Keegan is a familiar one to those who visit First Calvary Cemetery with any regularity. Close to the gates on Greenpoint Avenue, one does not need to penetrate too deeply into the viridian devastations of the place to find it. Keegan was a firefighter, a Foreman of Hook and Ladder No. 4 who was killed during the pursuit of his duties on the 15th of September in 1882 at the conjunction of Meeker Avenue and the loathsome Newtown Creek.
nytimes.com has an article on the Locust Hill Refinery Fire, which presents the grisly details of that night and describes the tragic death of both Keegan and Captain Stuart Duane (whose death counts as one of the most horrible exits from this mortal coil I’ve ever encountered)
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Before the night was over and the vast fire contained, oil barges set aflame by the terrific explosions and spreading flames had been carried all the way to the Penny Bridge, which ended up being consumed itself by fire. The far larger Standard Oil works up the Creek were protected from this spreading conflagration by an ad hoc boom deployed by Firefighters across the Creek, said boom was composed of empty barges and logs. The entire blaze began when lightning struck the petroleum reservoir tanks of Sone & Fleming at the Locust Hill Refinery sparking a fire which spread insidiously across the 18th ward, during a severe thunderstorm.
arrts-arrchives.com has many fascinating images for the antiquarian community to marvel over, but of interest for readers of this posting will be this shot from 1852 (that’s the Newtown Creek, kids, see Calvary in the upper right corner- click image for a larger view at the arrts-archives.com site) showing the Penny Bridge that was burned away.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
By 1929, the independent oil companies around the Newtown Creek were absorbed by the Standard Oil Trust, parent of the modern Exxon and Mobil corporations. Standard Oil, of course was the guilty party concerning the Greenpoint Oil Spill.
William DONALD, proprietor of the Locust Hill Oil Works, where the fire originated, testified that when he reached the fire he saw the only way to save anything was to draw off the oil. By five o’clock in the morning one-half had been drawn off. About twenty minutes later the tank boiled over and filled the yard with burning oil. KEEGAN was near the tank at the time, with several men employed in the works and some firemen. They ran and escaped except KEEGAN, whom the witness afterwards heard was missing. There was about six hundred barrels of crude oil in the tank.
Shoosh… Be Very Quiet… I’m hunting rabbits…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Hunting for the elusive gravesite of a man called Gilman, one frigid afternoon spent within the 365 acres of First Calvary Cemetery proved the existence here of a race of burrowing things- mud caked groundlings with glowing red eyes.
Somewhere, nearby I would suspect, is a subterranean warren kept warm by the swarming masses of their hairless and blind progeny. Squirming, these sweaty holes dug into the frozen graveyard force the adults to brave the bright dangers of the surface world to forage.
from wikipedia:
The lagomorphs are the members of the taxonomic order Lagomorpha, of which there are two families, the Leporidae (hares and rabbits), and the Ochotonidae (pikas). The name of the order is derived from the Greek lagos (λαγος, “hare”) and morphē (μορφή, “form”).
Though these mammals can resemble rodents (order Rodentia), and were classified as a superfamily in that order until the early twentieth century, they have since been considered a separate order. For a time it was common to consider the lagomorphs only distant relatives of the rodents, to whom they merely bore a superficial resemblance.
The earliest fossil lagomorphs, such as Eurymylus, come from eastern Asia, and date to the late Paleocene or early Eocene. The leporids first appear in the late Eocene, and rapidly spread throughout the northern hemisphere; they show a trend towards increasingly long hind limbs as the modern leaping gait developed. The pikas appear somewhat later, in the Oligocene of eastern Asia.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Prey by nature, the foragers are fast and smart and alert. The gods of the sky, the claws of the stealth demons, the brutal agonies of the dog- all are found on the surface. Designed to eat the ruggose fibers of grass and seed, quickly and as much as possible in one go, they are swift and nervous. Fed on the morbid nutrition offered up by the loam of Calvary Cemetery, the glowing red eyes of these burrowers scan constantly for danger.
from wikipedia:
The rabbit lives in many areas around the world. Rabbits live in groups, and the best known species, the European rabbit lives in underground burrows, or rabbit holes. A group of burrows is called a warren. Meadows, woods, forests, thickets, and grasslands are areas in which rabbits live. They also inhabit deserts and wetlands. More than half the world’s rabbit population resides in North America. They also live in Europe, India, Sumatra, Japan, and parts of Africa. The European rabbit has been introduced to many places around the world.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Merely a part of some vast ecosystem occluded by the marble and sorrow, these burrowers are prized game for the higher mammals and avian predators which frequent the bulkheaded shorelines of the Newtown Creek. It is difficult, with modern eyes, to imagine the world of the unspoiled Creek.
Once, this was part of a rich swampy marshland, and abundant game and wildlife drew sportsmen from the great cities of Brooklyn and Manhattan for hunting and fishing to the rural extants of the Newtown Creek. Nearby, aboriginal tribes of Lenape (the Maspeatche) made their camps near Mt. Zion cemetery and when the europeans came- great hunting lodges and hotels were erected along its banks to service the tourist trade from the two island cities. That was before the industries, before the Rural Cemeteries Act, and before the 800 pound gorilla came to town.
from wikipedia:
Jugged Hare (known as civet de lièvre in France), is a whole hare, cut into pieces, marinated and cooked with red wine and juniper berries in a tall jug that stands in a pan of water. It traditionally is served with the hare’s blood (or the blood is added right at the very end of the cooking process) and Port wine.
Jugged Hare is described in the influential 18th century cookbook, The Art of Cookery by Hannah Glasse, with a recipe titled, “A Jugged Hare,” that begins, “Cut it into little pieces, lard them here and there….” The recipe goes on to describe cooking the pieces of hare in water in a jug that it set within a bath of boiling water to cook for three hours. Beginning in the nineteenth century, Glasse has been widely credited with having started the recipe with the words “First, catch your hare,” as in this citation. This attribution is apocryphal.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Your humble narrator appreciates the irony that New York City’s nature preserves are entirely accidental. The nearby Ridgewood Reservoir, an eidelon of municipal malfeasance and neglect, has transformed into a significant bird sanctuary and houses a teeming ecosystem ranging from rodent to raptor. The cemeteries of Queens similarly house a niche ecology, providing a refuge for ghoulish reprobates and rabbit alike. Some effort has been made at finding a scientific sampling of biota at these locations, but if it exists, my meager skills at the art of detection have been unable to uncover such data.
for a third person perspective on how my encounter with this manifest avatar of the Lepus specie went, please click here- its pretty much the way that the whole thing “went down”.
Tales of Calvary 10- The Hatch
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Your humble narrator, amongst other failings, has a certain preference for the grandiose statuary of the late 19th and early 20th century at First Calvary Cemetery here in Queens. Baroque expressions such as these appeal to the comic book fan in me, looking for all the world like a Jack Kirby or Jim Steranko rendering. One half expects a concrete angel to… well, I stray…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The southern section of First Calvary, found atop the cyclopean masonry observed on Review Avenue, offers glimpses of the Newtown Creek and panoramic views of industrial Brooklyn. Framing the open horizon of marshy western Queens and the forges of Brooklyn is the Kosciuszko Bridge, heroically carrying a vehicular river called the Brooklyn Queens Expressway over the infamous cataract. The elevation of these walls is actually quite high, an arcing and non euclidean structure which must be 2 to 3 stories at its apogee.
Am I overestimating? Check out this shot from the “street level” declination, aimed at the downward slope from halfway down Review Ave.–
And the shots below are from the other side of it, the topside of the wall.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
You won’t find the grandiose tombs or obsequious monuments to the famous on this side of First Calvary. This is where the “regular people” are buried- in their multitudes- in neatly defined rows of plots. The northwestern sections of Calvary, where the main gates are, and the northeastern- along Laurel Hill Blvd.- (both “High Ground”) are where you can find the princes of the 19th century city. Here, along Review Avenue, is where the middle and working class rest.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My reasons for coming to this section must remain hidden, for now, suffice to say that I am still hunting for the grave of a man named Gilman (see “Tales of Calvary 7” for more speculation on this mysterious merchant from Massachusetts). Enjoying the relative quiet, I noticed one of the concrete pillboxes which I’ve also alluded to in earlier posts. These structures are all over Calvary, are often padlocked, and have aroused no small amount of curiosity in your humble narrator.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Several conjectures -an access point to buried family mausoleums, a storage unit for groundskeepers, some sort of equipment shed- have assailed me as I observed these structures with their heavy iron lids and stout cement construction. An avid devotee of the macabre, I’ve often wondered aloud about just what is is that may be down there.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This particular structure, as you can see, had been left unlocked. In fact, its heavy lid was just resting on the cement and its hinges had long ago stopped functioning.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Nudging the lid back a few inches, a better than six foot drop was observed, which put its bottom some 4 feet below the surface as observed in the shot above. I activated the camera flash and illuminated quite a bit of airborne dust when the camera performed its intended action. As you can see, there were two modern shopping carts and part of a lamp down there. Puzzling- not for being trash, but… for… why, how, when, etc. You’d expect shovels or spades, but shopping carts and a lamp?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Were I still the youthful and robust physical specimen I once was, I might have more to say about this, as I would have entered the yawning mystery for a closer look. However, as an aged physical coward and feckless quisling given to emotional stupor and irrational panic, the miasmal odor of the open hatch drove me backwards and I nearly passed into one of my episodes. Fighting off a faint, I labored to close the heavy lid and made for the Penny Bridge gates found on Laurel Hill Blvd. to escape the implications of that smell, which reminded me of an aquarium in need of filtration.
What can it be, that might be down there?
New Calvary
– photo by Mitch Waxman
While scuttling away from that ribbon of malefic neglect called the Newtown Creek one fine day, on my way home to the yellow brick splendors of far off Astoria, your humble narrator suddenly had the sensation of being observed and followed by malign forces. Such paranoia is a failing of mine, of course (I’m all ‘effed up), as I’m given to wild flights of imagination and illogical conjecture about everyday and ordinary experiences which are mundane occurrences for everyone else. The impression that I think I’m somehow special would be erroneous however, as this is more curse than blessing.
Simply put, your humble narrator lives very much in his own self defined world- which in this case, framed by the steel overpass of the Long Island Expressway and the cyclopean walls of New Calvary Cemetery. A narrow and neglected sidewalk carried me toward an aperture in its high iron gates.
Calvary Cemetery is owned and managed by the Archdiocese of New York. It consists of four cemeteries and has about 3 million interred:
First Calvary Cemetery: full by 1867, located betw the Long Island Expressway & Review Ave.
Second Calvary Cemetery: located on the west side of 58th St betw Queens Blvd & the Brooklyn-Queens Espressway, land acquisition ended in 1888
Third Calvary Cemetery: est. 1879, located on the west side of 58th St, between the LIE & the BQE
Fourth Calvary Cemetery: est. 1900, located on the west side of 58th St, betw the LIE & 55th Ave
Mailing address: Calvary Cemetery, 49-02 Laurel Hill Blvd., Flushing NY 11377-7396
– photo by Mitch Waxman
New Calvary Cemetery isn’t “special” in the way that nearby Mount Zion and FIrst Calvary are- in terms of historic significance or psychic impression. The latter locations impart a sense of devastating loneliness upon their visitors, evoking a sensation of walking sanctified ground- while New Calvary is actually a very nice and quite pleasant place.
Far larger than the other “suburban cemeteries” New Calvary stretches out in a vast trapezoid of manicured grounds that extend from Queens Blvd. to 55th avenue (north to south) and 49th-58th streets (west to east), is trisected by both the BQE and LIE, and there are far worse places to visit on a sunny afternoon. It abuts Mount Zion Cemetery on 58th street.
from wikipedia
The Rural Cemetery Act was a law passed by the New York Legislature on April 27, 1847, that authorized commercial burial grounds in rural New York state. The law led to burial of human remains becoming a commercial business for the first time, replacing the traditional practice of burying the dead in churchyards and on private farmland. One effect of the law was the development of a large concentration of cemeteries along the border between the New York City boroughs of Queens and Brooklyn.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
note:
There are many new interments, every day, at New Calvary (roughly 60,000 people die in New York City during an average year) – the recently dead and their families are everywhere. Newtown Pentacle “policy” on such matters is still in a state of evolutionary flux, but for the present, focusing in -with or without significant obfuscation of identifying information on the grave marker – on the monuments of the recently deceased is something I’m a little “squirrely” about. Feedback is appreciated, by the way, on this subject and its ethical implications. On the one hand- there it is, out in the open in public. On the other, no one wants to see their dad’s name on some blog. What do you think? Leave a comment, if you dare…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
First Calvary, whose altitude is at a remarkably lower declination than New Calvary, drapes nearby Laurel Hill, but is isolated by the vast complexes of highway bridges which span and overpass the area from its younger sibling.
A visit to New Calvary is actually a very pleasant experience, although the vast majority of the markers here are mundane and mass produced owing to their production during the middle and late 20th century. Such generic markers are utilitarian and seem to be weathering well, but discovery of iconic and unique statuary in the tradition of the O’Brien or Doherty monuments at First Calvary eludes me in here.
If you decide to enter this place, there’s a “no trespassing” rule- which is seldom enforced unless you’re acting like a jerk. You may get told to leave, I once had a groundskeeper keep a very close eye on me but wasn’t confronted. Reason being is that there are active funeral rites being performed. Be cognizant of the feelings of others if you bring your camera with you… another reason I prefer First Calvary is that its mostly full and nearly empty of the living.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Do not mistake my deep affections for the venerable Calvary as an attempt to make its younger offshoot seem facile or cheap. This is a very impressive place, with subtle landscaping and gentle hills. Surreal, one has the impression of perambulating a technicolor movie set, dressed with grass that is “too green” and statuary strategically painted with moss and nitre. The bronze door above is actually from a mold, as I’ve seen other examples of it all over the cemetery belt.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Lucky for me, this notion of paranoid pursuit that had caused me to enter Third Calvary brought me there at the apex of the autumnal sun, the so called “golden hour”. When lighting conditions are such, one tends to just shoot and shoot, as they will pass quickly. The sunlight become orange gold and the shadows assume a blueish hue. Such complimentary reactions of color are pleasing to the human eye, evoking the wild theories of the radical painter and art theorist Josef Albers.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The grave markers in New Calvary point to lessons learned in the older cemetery, with long concrete foundations providing stable ground for the stones to rest upon. The disturbing subsidence common at the older facility is not seen as often here, probably due to the differing hydrological qualities of the substrate soil.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’ve learned that many of the Mausoleums found in the Newtown Pentacle are designed with a window of stained glass and a small altar within. The deceased are held in the crypts which lie on either side of this space. The site orientation of most of these mausoleums is east/west and the stained glass was calculated to be illuminated by either sunrise or sunset. The ornate designs revealed during such intervals is remarkable, and if you happen across Calvary at this time of day, look for such ephemera.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This is a curious optical artifact I’ve been referring to as “me and Jesus”. The reflection on the right side is me. You can just make out my hand holding the camera, the collar of my filthy black raincoat, a specular highlight on my sunglasses, and the outline of my black fedora. On the left is the shadow pattern of a bearded man with long hair. The obvious explanation is that the backlit stained glass is projecting an image on the tomb glass I’m focusing past… but the image in the artwork is not wearing a crown of thorns, and the image on the left is.
Weird.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Hey, you never know what you’re going to find at Calvary.
Tales of Calvary 9- A Pale Enthusiast
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Amateurish and lazy explorations of Calvary Cemetery and the Greater Newtown Pentacle, with associated blog postings foisted upon an unsuspecting public and amplified by a never ending barrage of self promoting debasements of all that is true, have revealed many strange things to your humble narrator, and by extension- to you my gentle lords and ladies of Newtown. Today, the Doherty monument in First Calvary gets its turn. There is nothing “odd” about the monument, in fact the reason I call attention to the thing is the supernal beauty of its working. This is one uncanny bit of carving, and unfortunately these photos do not do it justice (still adjusting to the new camera).
Art school faculty, turtlenecked and smoking french cigarettes, would probably describe it as “Sophia, goddess of wisdom- in the form of a christian angel, sitting within a Roman structure, crowned by a cross- representing an agglutination of civilized democratic-christian progress advancing since the time of the Greeks and the Roman Republic and ultimately manifested as The United States. The angel casts her eye skyward, vigilant, with a sword in her hand. A pacific and expectant expression suggests the nearness of the second coming and resurrection of the dead.”
Such imperious and hyperbolic thinking was very much in vogue in the years between 1900 and the first World War.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Eugene Doherty and his wife Mary J. Doherty are buried here. Their headstones have bas reliefs of palm fronds draped across them. The little flags are planted at the graves of military veterans in New York Cemeteries on national holidays to honor their service. I found no evidence of Doherty serving in the military, but that probably just means I didn’t know where to look.
After all- I’m just some ‘effed up lunatic who spends his spare time scuttling around trash dumps, toxic waste sites, and cemeteries who gets his kicks bad mouthing the past- Right?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Mr. Doherty, it seems, was a man of some reknown. He was a leading member of the Irish community on both sides of the Newtown Creek, and stood shoulder to shoulder in prestige alongside Battle-Ax Gleason in the eyes of his countrymen.
A manufacturer of rubber, Doherty specialized in the sort of material demanded by “turn of the 20th century” Dentists for the manufacture of dentures. His heavily advertised (see sample at bottom) Samson Rubber was a standard component for the manufacture of false teeth. The factory, incorporated as Eugene Doherty Rubber Works, Inc., was located at 110 and 112 Kent Avenue which is in Greenpoint (or Williamsburg, depending on whether or not you’re trying to hard sell a building).
rubber, from wikipedia
The major commercial source of natural rubber latex is the Para rubber tree (Hevea brasiliensis), a member of the spurge family, Euphorbiaceae. This is largely because it responds to wounding by producing more latex.
Other plants containing latex include Gutta-Percha (Palaquium gutta),[1] rubber fig (Ficus elastica), Panama rubber tree (Castilla elastica), spurges (Euphorbia spp.), lettuce, common dandelion (Taraxacum officinale), Russian dandelion (Taraxacum kok-saghyz), Scorzonera (tau-saghyz), and Guayule (Parthenium argentatum). Although these have not been major sources of rubber, Germany attempted to use some of these during World War II when it was cut off from rubber supplies. These attempts were later supplanted by the development of synthetic rubbers. To distinguish the tree-obtained version of natural rubber from the synthetic version, the term gum rubber is sometimes used.
A neat image of the the Doherty Rubber Works building late in its heyday (1920) can be found at trainweb.org, if you can believe anything I say, and they have a great description of the whole scene in context here. I warn you though, you’re going to learn about the Brooklyn Eastern District Terminal!
Also, in a completely unrelated coincidence, NAG is located at 110 Kent in modernity. Here’s the place on a google map, click “streetview” to compare to the 1920 shot above
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Eugene Doherty died in 1906, his wife Mary in 1914. Luckily for Mary, the denture business was a lucrative one, and her years of mourning were spent in material comfort. At her death, she bequeathed the staggering sum of $621,148 to her heirs.
$621,148 in 1914, mind you, and federal income tax had just become a reality in 1913. That’s at least $10,000,000 in modern coine.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Life sized, if you’re a 5 foot tall woman, the statue itself is disarming and has weathered existence in the corrosive atmospheric miasmas extant about the nearby Newtown Creek for 94 years, only losing a thumb. The colour, oddly, doesn’t stain sanctified Calvary. Xanthian skill representative of true artistry went into the shaping of this stone, but I haven’t been able to find the name of the sculptor in public record.
If you see it, stand close and look into its eyes, then leave when the chills begin. Whatever you do, don’t look back over your shoulder at it afterwards, lest an adjusted hand hold on the sword, or the impression that the angle of its head has shifted might be seen. Remain an observer- in Calvary- ever the pale enthusiast- ever an Outsider.
Hey, you never know what you’re going to find at Calvary Cemetery.
Also, just as a note- today, January 13th, is Clark Ashton Smith’s birthday, and St. Knut’s Day as well.
Eugene Doherty Rubber Inc. - Late 19th/Early 20th century Advertising
The Newtown Pentacle 