The MTA should bring back some of these vintage posts and signs—they’re such a cool throwback to old New York. These lantern-like beacons guard the Fifth Avenue and 59th Street station:
Vintage signage on the New York Life building, on Park Avenue South—important enough to have its own subway entrance. Interborough Rapid Transit is today’s 4, 5, and 6 line.
I hope the MTA does not replace or tidy up this weathered, slightly rusted subway post, in Inwood:
Charles Parsons painted these ice skaters in 1862, during the park’s infancy. Ice skating was quite a fad among middle- and upper-class New Yorkers at the time. Even the little dog on the right is getting into it.
Later this painting was made into a lithograph by Currier & Ives.
The 1930s were a pretty rough time. Unemployment hovered around 20 percent nationally, while the city’s poorest neighborhoods, like Harlem, had a 50 percent out-of-work rate.
Where did Depression-era New Yorkers go when they had no money to pay rent? Some moved into the city’s many squatter camps.
These makeshift villages, many with disturbingly accurate nicknames, sprang up citywide, according to a March 26, 1933 New York Times article.
One called “Hardlucksville” formed off 10th Street next to the East River (at left). Five men resided there, selling firewood culled from the river:
“The three of them saw up the wood into stove lengths. the two others peddle the product in the East Side streets, trundling it from door to door in baby carts reclaimed from the junk pile. Among the five they earn a half-dollar a day, and that supports them,” the Times reported.
Another squat, “Camp Thomas Paine,” was home to dozens of World War I veterans; they lived in shacks in the West 70s near the Hudson River. And “Packing Box City” (above) popped up on Houston Street.
Central Park had its own Hooverville as well. Read more about it here.
As advertised on this nifty poster, designed and printed by the Works Progress Administration.
I couldn’t find anything on the skating carnival slated for October 31st. But a New York Times blurb that ran in the October 30th edition of the paper advertised a Halloween costume contest on the Mall, to be held that night.
“Prizes will be awarded for the funniest boy’s costume, prettiest girl’s costume, most unusual costumes and the most appropriate costumes,” the item reads.
Strange that they don’t mention scariest costume. Sounds like the city was trying to provide some wholesome fun for kids who would otherwise be tempted to pull the usual pranks and mischief that make Halloween such a thrilling holiday when you’re young.
Before cars, subways, and trucks took over transporting residents and objects around the city, the job was the responsibility of horses. And of course, not everyone treated those horses humanely.
Spending their days pulling streetcars and wagons, horses were routinely beaten by drivers, and they often were literally worked to death.
This prompted wealthy resident Henry Bergh to found the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals in 1866. With Bergh at the helm, the ASPCA helped write anti-cruelty laws and built public water troughs for horses (at least one of which still exists near Sixth Avenue and 59th Street).
They also created the first horse ambulance, as seen in the photo above.
Today the ASPCA is a national animal welfare organization that operates a shelter on 92nd Street where four-legged New Yorkers can be adopted.
Another adoption option: New York City Animal Care & Control, which operates three shelters in Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Staten Island. NYCACC doesn’t have the funds and history of the ASPCA, but they too have lots of sweet, loving dogs and cats looking for new homes.
Near the Central Park carousel is a child-size wood post featuring carvings of merry-go-round horses. They look like miniature versions of the hand-carved, painted horses on the circa-1908 carousel itself.
It’s an enchanting little post, a marker letting adults know that they’re about to enter the park’s kid territory.
But near the bottom of the post is this somber plaque:
Michelle Bernstein
March 25, 1984 – June 19, 1987
The Carousel Landscape
was restored in 1991
in honour of Michelle
who loved
all the pretty little horses
Brooklyn’s Prospect Park had one, complete with cows grazing beside it. Central Park’s still exists (minus the cows), but now it’s a visitors’ center.
We’re talking about a dairy: a place where kids could buy safe, cheap milk in the late 19th century.
The dairies and their on-site cows served a vital function at the time. Before pasteurization, milk—often brought in from upstate farms in warm wagons—routinely spoiled, sickening children.
And if they drank “swill milk,” it killed them. This rotten milk came from cows kept in city stables next to whiskey distilleries.
The cows were fed mash from the distilleries rather than grass, and the milk they produced was bulked up with flour or plaster to make it appear fresh.
It wasn’t. An 1858 swill milk outbreak—aided by corrupt city officials whose sympathies lay with dairy owners—killed thousands of city residents.
Stronger food handling laws, pasteurization, and refrigeration helped make the park dairies obsolete in the 20th century. Prospect Park’s was torn down in the 1930s; the ornate, Victorian dairy in Central Park (at right) was restored a few decades ago.
Central Park is enchanting on a lush summer afternoon. One of the most magical spots is at The Falconer statue, on the south side of 72nd Street drive.
Situated on top of a large rock formation, The Falconer is a sweet place to stop for a bit and view the park. Because it’s high up, passersby won’t always realize you’re there.
The bronze statue itself is pretty captivating. Designed by British sculptor (and falconer) George Blackall Simonds, it’s a replica of the original, which was on display in Italy in the 19th century.
An Irish merchant who later lived in New York admired it and commissioned a copy for his adopted city. It was dedicated in 1875.
The statue seems so fitting, considering the peregrine falcons known to make the park their hunting ground.
The city in July and August is supposed to be insanely hot and sticky. And when an oppressive heat wave strikes, New Yorkers suffer, sweat, and ask the same question: How did city residents handle it years ago without air conditioning or even fans?
Well, there was always the fire escape. It looks like a ridiculously dangerous place to sleep in this 1938 Weegee photo, but it must have been better than baking in a tenement bedroom.
You could also spend the night in a park, on the street, or sprawled out on the beach, as thousands did.
“In Central Park the lawns were crowded before darkness with family groups,” reported the July 10, 1936 New York Times; the temperature had reached an astounding 106 degrees the day before. ”On the Lower East Side traffic was seriously impeded as small armies of persons emerged from tenement houses with chairs, boxes and even beds which they set up in the streets.”
And from the Times on August 4, 1938, when the mercury hit 93 degrees:
“More than 3,000 persons slept on the sand at Coney Island and Brighton Beach to escape the heat last night, the police estimated. Ten additional patrolmen were assigned to the area to prevent molestation of the sleepers, many of whom brought blankets and sheets.”
Turn of the century style, that is. Looks like a pretty early autumn day, with some leaves starting to turn colors.
