Posts Tagged ‘Long Island City’
wondering uneasily
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Each one of the DE30AC Long Island Railroad engines one typically observes at the ancient Long Island City station at Hunters Point is rated to 3,000 Horsepower. So says the google.
As a humble narrator is given to literal interpretations of statements like this, an idea occurred, which might present an answer to the so called “hum” which bedevils area residents.
Horses.
from wikipedia
The LIRR chartered the New York and Jamaica Railroad on September 3, 1859, and a supplement to the LIRR’s charter passed March 12, 1860 authorized it to buy the NY&J and extend to Hunters Point. The LIRR carried through with the NY&J purchase on April 25, along with the purchase of a short piece of the Brooklyn and Jamaica at Jamaica, and the next day it cancelled its lease of the Brooklyn and Jamaica, but continued to operate over it.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Logistical conundrums abound in this scheme of mine, mastering a team of 3,000 horses for instance, would be hubris enough to make a Roman blush.
A thousand pounds of horseflesh each, the 3,000 strong equine army would each require some 10-12 gallons of water and 1-1.5% of it’s body weight in food per day (US Army daily forage rations were given as 12 lbs of oats and 14 lbs of hay per 900 lb. horse). Marvelously enough, the mountains of manure generated by the animals could act as fertilizer for roof top farms which could in turn grow the food.
It would be a virtuous circle for all, except for the customers of the LIRR itself, who will be moving to Syosset at no more than 3mph.
from wikipedia
The DE30AC and DM30AC locomotives replaced aging GP38s, Alco FA1/FA2s, F7As and F9As, and MP15AC and SW1001 locomotives, with GP38s used to push and pull diesel trains and other locomotives used to provide HEP for the trains. The bodies of the DE30AC and the DM30AC are similar; the difference is the ability of the DM30AC to use electric third rail while the diesel engine is off, enabling the locomotive to use the East River Tunnels into New York Penn Station. DM30ACs have third rail contact shoes, permitting direct service from non-electrified lines in eastern Long Island via the western electrified main lines all the way to Penn Station. A few such trains a day run on the Port Jefferson, Oyster Bay, and Montauk Branches. The engines’ naming scheme: DM = Dual Mode, DE = Diesel Engine, 30 = 3000 hp, AC = Alternating Current traction motors.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Oh, and there’s also something like ten trains that use this station daily, so that’s actually 30,000 horses. That’s the estimated equine population of New Hampshire.
Imagine all the primate jobs this scheme would generate as well, hundreds if not thousands of green jobs- Veterinarians, Agriculturists, Teamsters, Roof-top Botanists.
from wikipedia
Long Island City station was built on June 26, 1854, and was rebuilt seven times during the 19th Century. On December 18, 1902, both the two-story station building, and an office building owned by the LIRR burned down. The station was rebuilt on April 26, 1903, and was electrified on June 16, 1910.
Before the East River Tunnels were built, the Long Island City station served as the terminus for Manhattan-bound passengers from Long Island, who took ferries to the East Side of Manhattan. The passenger ferry service was abandoned on March 3, 1925, although freight was carried by car floats (see Gantry Plaza State Park) to and from Manhattan until the middle twentieth century. Today ferry service is operated by NY Waterway.
strange delicacies
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Fascination with the once upon a time community known as Blissville haunts my dreams.
Unaccountably, given the corrupted environment and largely abandoned to industry character of this corridor in western Queens, there are still proud and ancestral residents of this neighborhood which borders the sanguine Newtown Creek. First Calvary consumed most of the neighborhood in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, as it grew by acquisition and through the action of wills and estate transfers.
Greenpoint Avenue, as is slouches roughly toward the Newtown Creek, is the central artery of the place.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Traffic choked, this part of Greenpoint Avenue was once home to fine hotels and numerous inns, public houses, and bars. The teeming multitudes of largely Catholic Lower Manhattan, whether denizens of the fabled “Five Points” or from the savory upscale districts in New York, came here for funerary rites at First Calvary. Before embarking on the long journey back to Manhattan, a major endeavor involving ferries and horse drawn trolleys, they would often tilt a glass to their fallen comrade or family.
The last of these comfort stops is still in operation, the Botany Bay public house at Bradley Avenue.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There were two major “trolley” roads (not steam or electric at first, but rather horse drawn) which serviced this area, providing access for the New Yorkers to arrive at Blissville. The Greenpoint based one would find its passengers at a ferry stop which connected Grand Street in Manhattan with the foot of Greenpoint Avenue in Brooklyn. This is the reason why Greenpoint avenue is so wide, it originally carried two lanes of traffic with the center given over to the “road”.
It’s also the reason why GPA near the East River hosts so many grand and significant structures, it was a sort of “Parisian Avenue”.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The second “road” followed Borden Avenue from its foot at the Long Island Railroad ferry in Long Island City to its intersection at Greenpoint Avenue. A point of interest about this line was that it was owned and operated by the notorious Mayor of Long Island City, Patrick J. Gleason, known as Battle Ax. The LIRR ferry connected the line with Turtle Bay in Manhattan, but the Brooklyn based one was far more popular.
Obviously, the Catholic population around Manhattan’s Grand Street was quite a bit larger than that of the less populated area around 34th street.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There are quite a few run down relicts found along this stretch of road, an area that time seems to have forgotten. Worm eaten pilasters and hints of former glory adorn these structures, some of which date back to the years directly following the Civil War. Modern structures are strictly utilitarian, boxes of brick and rebar.
Sources in the construction industry, some who are even responsible for erecting these architectural abominations, have hinted to me in the past that jobs in this area always yield surprise and sometimes engender astonishment. Foundations of much earlier structures, unknown pipelines, and even underground voids of astonishing size and workmanship.
Credulous, I must accept the descriptions offered to me that the whole area is thoroughly tunneled out. Sometimes I wonder, and tremble at the suggestions made by anonymous sources that some of these tunnels are quite freshly dug, however.
modern entrance
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Drink in the remaining scenery down in Long Island City while you can, lords and ladies, for the march of progress is indeed upon us. The initial phases of the Hunters Point South project, with myriad workers and clattering machinery, is under way. The first structure, a school, is rising from the dusty shoreline of Western Queens, and will soon obscure the shield wall of the Shining City itself.
Late in the second week of January, the estimable scions of Community Board 2 held a very well attended meeting at PS1 on Jackson Avenue, and your humble narrator was in attendance.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Uncharacteristically, I sat quietly in the back of the room and merely observed the proceedings. The community of the so called “Tower Town” at the older Queens West development voiced concerns over the ratio of affordable versus market rate housing that would be included in the newer units which be appearing at the southernly edge of Hunters Point. Concerns about the already sparse level of community services- mass transportation, sewer capacity, schools, fire and police service- all were voiced in urgent, accusatory, and somewhat aggressive tones.
In attendance were City Councilmember Van Bramer, Assemblyperson Nolan, and representatives from the Mayors office and the Manhattan political establishment.
No comment is offered by your humble narrator.
waxen mask
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Wandering aimlessly, that agglutination of wounds, phobias, and general wreckage which you might describe as a humble narrator recently found himself on the acclaimed Borden Avenue Bridge. The existential issues of life in the Big City are quite bothersome, and distract from pursuits of finer cast and higher intellectual firmament, but a fellow must eat (or be eaten). “Bucks, burgers, and beer” after all… it’s just the cold has gotten me down.
Problems maintaining biological homeostasis and personal comforts plague one’s patience during the winter months, for my dynamic equilibrium adjustment and regulation mechanisms are all ‘effed up.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Hand wringing is a necessary pursuit for me during the frosts, as my feeble circulatory system cannot combat the normal vasoconstriction of extremities exposed to freezing temperatures, causing my fingers and hands to grow wan and bloodless. Looking like nothing but the curled and grasping claws of a cadaver, nervous feedback becomes intermittent, and it feels as if an amputation would bring nothing but minor discomfort.
Despite all this horror and ennui, I’m nevertheless compelled to wander the earth, and often find my steps have carried me to that sundering of natural law known as the Newtown Creek- or one its tributaries.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The great thing about the Creeklands, and what always draws me back (and causes me to stop my whining self narrative and soliloquy of self pitying sophistry), is that there is always something you haven’t noticed- like the so called Freedom Tower rising over the two LIRR bridges which cross Dutch Kills. Wow.
This is the kind of thing that just keeps on bringing me around this place, despite the ravaged and ruinous condition of my physical incarnation.
arduous detail
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On Friday the 13th of January, your humble narrator was drawn inextricably to the Newtown Creek Wastewater Treatment Plant’s Nature Walk. A friend, who is a faculty member of a CUNY institution familiar to all residents of Queens, had reported that she (and her students) had witnessed an extant slick of petroleum product while at the location.
So, despite inclement weather and biting cold, your humble narrator crossed the Pulaski from Queens to infinite Brooklyn to investigate.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Just to be clear, the NCWWTP (oft referred to as the Temple of Cloacina) has nothing to do with petroleum. The mission of this futurist facility deals with a sticky black substance of entirely manmade origin, its collection and eventual disposition, but definitively not petroleum.
The Nature Walk, which is the subject of ironic humor and contextual mirth for many, is a lovely amenity required by the City’s “1% for art” rules. Designed by architect George Trakas, the NCWWTP Nature Walk offers panoramic views and public access to the nation’s most polluted waterway, and provides an island of calm for a section of Greenpoint sorely lacking in open space.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My friend, as mentioned, serves as a faculty member at the CUNY institution in Queens. For several years, she has been conducted a census and study of the micro organisms which find themselves swept into Newtown Creek on the shallow tide offered by the estuarine East River. Her findings are surprising, as observation and scientific method has revealed that a startling diversity of life somehow finds a way to organize and sustain their existence in the troubled waterway.
Pictured above are the “steps” at the Nature Walk during happier times.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Witnessed on this day in January were the tell tale leave behinds of the event, painted upon the self same steps illustrated in the shot above. Eyewitness description and anecdotal memories described the slick as both viscous and opaque, and occupying no small acreage of water.
Reports of floating “tar balls” accompany the tale of the slick, which was described as moving eastward- up the creek- with the rising tide from the East River.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As a note, the tidal action of the surrounding waters doesn’t really flow into the Newtown Creek so much as it forces the waterway to rise and fall in a vertical rather than lateral manner. This why the sedimentary process along the Creek is so onerous, as there is no “flushing action”.
Once something enters the Newtown Creek, it never leaves.
The Newtown Pentacle 