Category Archives: Bowery Boys Bookshelf

‘The Gargoyle Hunters’ and the Architecture of Nostalgia

BOOK REVIEW The architects and builders of the post-Civil War period provided New York City with masterpieces of great beauty — cast-iron facades, modern emblems of trade rendered in marvelous stone, fanciful medieval gargoyles upon impressive towers. Gilded Age architecture and the ornate shapes of pre-modern design have nonetheless defined the timeless identity of the city.

In the 1970s lovers of this fading architectural landscape decided to protect its most treasured features. By liberating its details from the landscape entirely.

They were called ‘gargoyle hunters’, so passionate for the city’s magnificent beauty that they would rather steal aspects of it than see it destroyed.

The Gargoyle Hunters
by John Freeman Gill
Alfred A. Knopf

John Freeman Gill‘s new book The Gargoyle Hunters is obviously about one of these guerrilla collectors, working with a crew of thieves, chipping away at doomed architectural wonders falling into disrepair, scouring heaps of rubble for a bit of beauty in a city tumbling into financial ruin.

One of the thieves is the gargoyle hunter’s son. His name is Griffin.

Shortly into Gill’s captivating and exuberant novel, one realizes that architectural crimes are merely the backdrop. This is a story about all varieties of nostalgia. Formalized urban nostalgia, of course, of the kind that drives landmark preservation and podcasts about New York City history. But also the constant pining for recognizable moments in a person’s life, both for the pleasures of our childhood and for the relationships that once held us in safety.

Below: The World Trade Center, with the Woolworth Building peering through — two architectural contrasts in Gill’s novel (photo date 1973)

Gill, a New York-based journalist and New York Times contributor, is the son of a ‘gargoyle hunter’ who traipsed 1970s in search of aged, deteriorating treasures, and his adventure, while certainly fictionalized, has the immediacy of a memoir, laced with specific references to corner shops, restaurants and cheap snack foods.

Griffin’s parents are separated so he spends time between his home — a rustic, unrenovated brownstone on the Upper East Side — and his father’s workshop in a warehouse in Tribeca, many years before chic hotels and film festivals would arrive here. Griffin has accepted the separation, if mournfully, just as he assumes New York as a faded, withering place, the rubble upon which the foibles of his adolescence play out.

Below: Heaps of rubble abound in early 1970s New York. In The Gargoyle Hunter, they sometimes possess abandoned treasures. 

But those around him are not so complacent. His sister spends her time trying to piece her family back together in crafty ways. At one point, she smashes a window with a rock, knowing her father will have to come back and repair it.

Her father also vandalizes to repair the past, soon employing his son in wild and increasingly dangerous capers to remove carved detailing from old Gilded Age buildings, finding great spiritual urgency in his tasks.

“The bridge of time is very poignant,” he told me. “I think about the immigrant carvers who came over here and did this work on people’s home — itinerant nobodies, many of them, with no stable homes of their own — and I meet them across time.”

Their adventures soon lead to a startling heist — the theft of an entire building.

“No, not part of a building, son. What we’re going to steal is a building — the whole damn thing, cornice to curb. Just stop asking so many questions and you’ll see. Okay?

(NOTE: This sounds far-fetched, but Gill bases this on an actual event of a cast-iron structure win 1974.)

Below: The ramshackle streets of Tribeca, another vivid location from the book

I feel as though Gill is doing a bit of gargoyle hunting from his own life, the novel filled with charming and very specific anecdotes of teenage exuberance and wistful remembrance, dotted along the corridors of 1970s New York that you can almost follow along with on a dusty map.

There’s even a marvelously awkward experience atop the Statue of Liberty, one that feels gleefully unrestricted, with a major nod to modern cinema’s greatest ode to nostalgia — A Christmas Story.

The central crimes (or are they rescues?) of The Gargoyle Hunters feel realistic because they’re paired with the common trials and errors of teenage life, moments we all wish we could chip away and save forever.


The New Brooklyn: The ups and downs of a very frenetic borough

The subtitle to Kay S. Hymowitz‘s engaging and often provocative new book The New Brooklyn: What It Takes To Bring A City Back is a bit of a misnomer.

Brooklyn is not back in any conventional sense of the word. It has not returned to any kind of sense of normalcy or financial stability. In fact, Brooklyn has never felt more granular, a borough with newly formed and slightly unstable multiple personalities. If it were a person, you might medicate it.

Brooklyn is back — for many, safe, vibrant and livable but it is also beyond. It’s in a category all to its own.

Below: The new Williamsburg

Courtesy John/Flickr

Brooklyn is also my home. I live two blocks from a row of millionaires to the east and two blocks from working class residents in a housing project to the west. Retail options are frayed and deeply unsatisfying to all — expensive boutiques next to drug stores with lines down the block. No grocery stores in sight. A few blocks away lies the Gowanus Canal, a perilously grim body of water that now, in 2017, attracts glassy chemical films on its surface and luxury condos at its banks.

The past two decades in Brooklyn have been transformative in a way that few places in the world have experienced. This is certainly the most tumultuous era for the borough since it was dragged into the embrace of Greater New York — via the Consolidation of 1898. 

It can be one of the greatest places to live in the United States. It can also be a frustrating, hopeless place. Its dysfunctions are legion. The pockets of Brooklyn which foster great cultural changes are never far from others that are (intentionally or otherwise) closed to any sort of change.

Below: Sunset Park

Courtesy Barry Yanowitz/Flickr

Recent shifts began in the early 1990s when younger people, mostly single, began flocking to the industrial neighborhood of Williamsburg after they couldn’t find acceptable space across the river in the East Village and the Lower East Side. This, in itself, was not a new phenomenon; Brooklyn Heights saw a similar ‘bohemian’ gentrification a century ago, as did Park Slope in the 1960s and 70s.

But the Williamsburg migration initiated a widespread lurch of gentrification into Brooklyn — some of it, as Hymowitz notes, with great degrees of population displacement. Gentrification is considered a bad word for many, a sign of Brooklyn becoming deeply homogenized to the detriment of its working-class residents.

The New Brooklyn
What It Takes To Bring A City Back
by Kay S. Hymowitz
Roman & Littlefield

Roman & Littlefield

In The New Brooklyn, Hymowitz looks at the more nuanced effects of gentrification by diving into the histories of seven neighborhoods — Park Slope, Williamsburg, the Brooklyn Navy Yard, Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brownsville, Sunset Park and Canarsie. (My only objection to this book is that the surveys are so engaging that I would have loved to read her take on other intriguing corners — Red Hook and Brighton Beach, for example.)

Below: Brownsville

Courtesy Nathan Prelaw/Flickr

She notes that gentrification, even of the most well-intentioned kind, is always fated for a rough landing. “When the educated middle class sets up housekeeping amid people from a different culture — whether white working class, poor black or immigrant  Hispanic, Chinese or whoever — tensions are inevitable.”

Gentrification in Brooklyn has come in all forms, with varying degrees of displacement. While sensitive liberal tenancies among current displacers has made gentrification into a bad word, this was not so deeply concerning in the 1960s — in Park Slope, for example — when the city was spiraling towards financial doldrum.  Writes Hymowitz:

“[G]entrification can drive out residents by increasing evictions, demolitions and landlord harassment, and raising rents to heights that existing tenants cannot afford. This kind of displacement has a decades-long history in gentrifying Park Slope. In the early days (and despite their countercultural sympathies), brownstoners made no bones about wanting to evict tenants whom they often inherited with their newly purchased brownstones.”

Below: Park Slope

Courtesy John-Paul Pagano/Flickr

Yet the Williamsburg-into-Bushwick-and-beyond form of gentrification is of an entirely different breed; it became an international model for urban renewal. “Everyone, including people who might have once aspired to the Ritz, whether in Tokyo, Stockholm, Berlin, Philadelphia or Chicago, wants to be cool in a Brooklyn sort of way.

While this has made Brooklyn an overall safer place to live, it’s also created an experience quite out of reach for many. In Hymowitz’s survey, she also visits Brownsville, a neighborhood almost entirely closed off from the so-called “rebirth,” a place where residents, mostly poor and working class African-Americans, are struggling to break free from life in “the permanent ghetto.”

The New Brooklyn is anchored firmly in history with an excellent overview of Brooklyn’s past upfront and startling neighborhood histories beginning each chapter. History explains the reactions to modern changes.

In Bed-Stuy, longtime residents are concerned that rapid gentrification is changing the nature of this historic center of black culture. While in Sunset Park, as Hymowitz notes, “you’d be hard-pressed to find any anti-gentrification protests or activists taking up the cause.”

— By Greg Young

Below: Bedford-Stuyvesant

Courtesy Melissa Felderman/Flickr



Top picture — Brooklyn 1945, courtesy New York Public Library


The New York Riots of 1964: Violent history with a haunting familiarity

One hot summer’s morning, in the neighborhood of Yorkville on the Upper East Side, high school student James Powell was shot and killed by police officer James Gilligan.

Powell either attempted to stab the officer or else the unarmed boy was brutally set upon by a man with violent tendencies. Gilligan, a war veteran, was either defending himself from a troubled delinquent or else he gunned down the teenager with little remorse.

There were few actual witnesses but dozens of bystanders. The incident took place across the street from a high school, and the students, incensed by rumors and the fear of blood running in the streets, began panicking.

The year was 1964.

It’s hard not to read the opening pages to Michael W. Flamm’s gripping In The Heat Of The Summer: The New York Riots of 1964 and the War on Crime (University of Pennsylvania Press) and not see the parallels to modern police brutality cases.  So many different testimonies obscure the truth that it’s hard to know what really did happen in front of 215 East 76th Street that day. (Video footage might not have even cleared it up.)

Yet Flamm’s book isn’t specifically about the crime, but the chaos which ensued — the New York Riots of 1964 (with the most violent night often referred to as the Harlem Riot of 1964). For several evenings following the shooting, a host of speculations and false rumors — mixing with grief and despair on a series of hot summer evenings — led to roaming violence and looting in Harlem (with some also reported in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Bedford-Stuyvesant).

The incidents which occurred that summer stem from hostilities which had built up within the black community for decades. A great distrust between the police and African-Americans played a part in the rising crime rate in poor neighborhoods like Harlem in the 1960s.

Courtesy the New York Daily News

Fearful residents felt powerless against increasing criminal behavior and drug abuse in their streets but didn’t risk involving law enforcement, who most considered corrupt and racist.

White residents avoided black neighborhoods — and vice versa — due to wildly dramatic reports in the press. Black power movements like the Nation of Islam escalated talk of violence while, in some neighborhoods, white vigilantes stopped and interrogated every black person found in the streets.

Writes Flamm: “New York sounded to the rest of the country like some frontier town helpless before the uncontrollable violence stalking its streets.”

Dick DeMarsico, New York World Telegraph & Sun

Flamm follows two parallel threads, both coming together in raw, unexpected ways. The first is a terrifying minute-by-minute account of the late-night street riots, the chaotic protests and the rallies organized by those who wished to funnel that rage into a mechanism of change. The second is the reactions of politicians and civil rights leaders to New York’s race and law enforcement problems.

The author’s meticulous research finds microcosms of hate and fear at nearly ever corner — of the kind which will make nobody particularly nostalgic for the period. “Central Harlem seemed like a war zone, with screams from people and cracks from bullets as they ricocheted off brick walls and cement sidewalks.”

New York World-Telegram and the Sun staff photographer: Wolfson, Stanley, photographer.

At the center of the story is civil rights leader Bayard Rustin (pictured above) and the Congress for Racial Equality (CORE), often caught between keeping and promoting the peace and quelling the concerns of angry residents.

At one point, Rustin was literally disarming people. “The toll might have gone much higher if not for Rustin, who personally disposed of three cases of dynamite — enough to destroy a city block — after two young black men agreed to give it to him instead of using it.”

Few history books I’ve read in the past twelve months have felt as immediate as In the Heat of the Summer, with anecdotes that seem to speak pointedly to the events of today’s headlines.

For example, some police authorities applauded television coverage of the riots. Said one commissioner: “It’s the best answer we have to the cries of police brutality. The camera, after all, cannot distort or lie; the worst that can happen is that the film is edited. But what you see on the home screen is the actual occurrence.”

Insomniac City: A strange tale of love and a tribute to off-beat New York

Writer and photographer Bill Hayes moved to New York in 2009 and experienced what many of us have already learned:  the nights are magic and the subway is a wilderness.

He began jotting down his observations of peculiar experiences, the strange behaviors of others existing in their own little New Yorks. “Every car on every train on every line holds a surprise,” writes Hayes, “a random sampling of humanity brought together in a confined space for a minute or two — a living Rubik’s Cube.”

Above and below: A couple of the many strange and captivating photographs by Bill Hayes featured in the book.

During the day he would aim a friendly camera towards New Yorkers of all shapes and affinities. Hayes left San Francisco after the tragic death of his partner and fortunately seems to have fallen into New York like one of its many prodigal souls. His experiences aren’t unique; they mirror yours and mine.

Except for the fact that, oh yes, he falls in love with a noted British neurologist and author — the late and dearly missed Oliver Sacks.

Oliver Sacks, photographed by Bill Hayes

In Insomniac City: New York, Oliver and Me, Hayes’ new memoir and urban rumination, we’re presented with a bird’s eye view of New York’s universal appeal to outsiders, paired with a microscopic look at two of those outsiders.

Sacks, a celebrated author of The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat and Awakenings (the basis of the Robert De Niro/Robin Williams film), was a guarded individual, coming out to himself late in life and socially removed from non-professional affairs.

Hayes introduces us to Sacks’ extraordinary worldview, an intellectual who brought critical thinking into the slightest of gestures and loved going to the roof to drink wine out of the bottle. The love and reverence Hayes has for Sacks is clear, referring to him throughout the text as just ‘O’, giving us their intimate moments only when they illuminate something of his genius.

Insomniac City is a fragmentary, often poetic look at love of a city and of an individual, told in notes and journal entries. It’s a book one could easily devour in a single sitting but I suggest prolonging the experience, reading a little at a time, allowing the individual anecdotes to inform your own adventures out in the big city.

It take on a set of colossal tasks; it can be poem, a documentary and a tribute on just a single page. Hayes is giving us permission to stare into his life — and into the lives of others — in the same durations of time that we experience each other in our daily lives.  In those flash moments of bonding on mass transit or on the street, where we may imagine what another person is thinking and feeling before they vanish.

And knowing, in his vignettes, that he’s exposed an intimacy with strangers, he then bares his own to us, his unabashed mix of love, friendship and bewilderment to a wonderful, complicated man, who also came and went.

New York, Oliver and Me
Bloomsbury Publishing


Photographs courtesy Bill Hayes and Bloomsbury

Ten holiday gift ideas for history buffs: The books of 2016

GIFT GUIDE The best part about the holidays in 2016 is that it requires two bursts of shopping — before the holidays for your loved ones and after the holidays for yourself (via gift cards and post-Christmas sales).  So consider this a list of recommendations not only for others, but for yourself!

In addition to our own book of course — The Bowery Boys’ Adventures In Old New York  I thought I’d suggest a few other New York City history related books that have come out this year, a few with ties to subjects we’ve spoken about in prior podcasts:

American Child Bride: A History of Minors and Marriage in the United States
by Nicholas L. Syrett
University of North Carolina Press

You’ve heard us interview Syrett on our recent podcast on the notorious Madame Restell. In Syrett’s latest book, he uncovers the story of child brides in American history, observing the changing perceptions of sexual maturity and marital objectives. Anchoring each chapter are deeply researched examples of young brides in our nation’s history — from Colonial-era North Carolina to Texans in the 21st century. It’s a far more complex tale than you might have guessed — with shifting power dynamics through the decades — and Syrett analyzes every aspect in rich detail.

Bellevue: Three Centuries of Medicine and Mayhem at America’s Most Storied Hospital
by David Oshinsky

Bellevue Hospital is one of New York City’s oldest institutions and one of the oldest health providers in America. Those who may not be totally familiar with their major contributions to American life might know Bellevue only from horror stories of their psychiatric ward.  But Oshinsky engagingly puts the hospital in its proper context — from its early days battling yellow fever to the 1980s AIDS crisis — and does so in a thrilling read. An especially fine follow-up to his Pulitzer Prize-winning Polio: Am American Story.

City of Dreams: The 400-Year Epic History in Immigrant New York
by Tyler Anbinder
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

This is one of the best history books of the year, a tribute to the DNA of the United States — the foreigners who came before us, struggled in poor neighborhoods and endured the hate and hardship of a fearful nation (comprised of people who, a generation or two before, were themselves newcomers). Anbinder presents the entire history of New York City from the perspectives of those sought out its streets as a sanctuary and home. City of Dreams provides the origin story for the diversity of today’s city.

Eight Flavors: The Untold Story of American Cuisine
by Sarah Lohman
Simon & Schuster

Food historian Sarah Lohman travels far and wide hunting down the surprising stories of the eight flavors that define contemporary American cuisine, and by extension, America itself. This fascinating and charming book is a multilayered confection of food history, travelogue, scientific sleuthing, personality profile, and time-machine cookbook.

In telling the stories of how these signature ingredients (black pepper, vanilla, chili powder, curry powder, soy sauce, garlic, MSG, and sriracha) arrived in American kitchens (quite often through New York’s restaurants and homes), we’re introduced to the culinary habits of famous Americans (Martha Washington, Julia Child) and those overlooked, until now, by history books, including early American merchants, an African slave in a vanilla bean field, and Ranji Smile, the Indian chef brought to New York from London in 1899 by Louis Sherry to spice things up at Sherry’s on 44th and Fifth Avenue. All that, and Thomas Jefferson’s ice cream recipe, too. A delicious read.

Hamilton: The Revolution
by Lin-Manuel Miranda and Jeremy McCarter
Grand Central Publishing

The closest many will ever come to seeing the pricy Broadway musical, Lin-Manuel Miranda‘s companion tome to his massive musical hit feels like it was built specifically for the holiday season, a glamorous, well-produced celebration of the show, filled with making-of tidbits woven through the full text of the show. For theater lovers it provides a rare insight into the show’s inception and Miranda’s genuine enthusiasm for the subject matter. Slip on the cast recording while perusing its pages, and it’ll be like you’re on the front row.

A History of Brooklyn Bridge Park: How A Community Reclaimed and Transformed New York City’s Waterfront
by Nancy Webster and David Shirley
Columbia University Press

The Brooklyn waterfront just beneath the Brooklyn Bridge has served two purposes — as a thriving port until the mid-20th century (when container shipping effectively destroyed Brooklyn’s pier industries), and as an unobtrusive platform for those that enjoy the gorgeous views of Manhattan from the vantages of the Brooklyn Promenade and the neighborhood of Brooklyn Heights. Transforming  this area into a lovely park then was, no surprise, an epic struggle. Webster and Shirley take you through every contentious step of the park’s evolution from the 1980s until today.
Read my full review of this book here.



The Man Who Knew: The Life and Times of Alan Greenspan
by Sebastian Mallary
Penguin Press

At first glance, this might be a strange book to include on a list of New York City history books. But this excellently written biography about the former Chairman of the Federal Reserve is a true New York story. Alan Greenspan was born in Washington Heights and educated at both NYU and Columbia University. His evolving beliefs on the economy and his rise in the world of American finance are brilliantly told by Mallary, a respectful but unblemished look at the intersection of Wall Street and the White House. As somebody who finds themselves rather lost in traditional tales of the financial market, I found The Man Who Knew to be both engaging and brisk.


New York Exposed: The Gilded Age Scandal That Launched The Progressive Era
by Daniel Czitrom
Oxford University Press

A vibrant, vivid retelling of a critical event in New York City history: the formation of the Lexow Committee, the state task force which eventually — after a couple rough starts — blew the lid off of New York’s most corrupt practices and sent Tammany Hall into decline. This event created the structure by which other corrupted politics could be dealt with in the 20th century.  Read my full review of this book here.

A Place For Us: West Side Story and New York
by Julie L. Faulkes
University of Chicago Press
The Broadway musical West Side Story and its film adaptation say more about New York City than perhaps any other musical ever created. The extraordinary talent who brought it together (Bernstein! Robbins! Sondheim!) made the impossible work, inspired by the tensions of late 1950s New York. Foulkes follows the musical from inception to its influence around the world.

Valiant Ambition: George Washington, Benedict Arnold and the Fate of the American Revolution
by Nathaniel Philbrick
Viking/ Penguin Random House

Philbrick (In The Heart of the Sea) is one of America’s most engaging historians, able to animate the past with the immediacy of modern prose. This year he tackled the Revolutionary War from the perspective of Benedict Arnold, a complicated figure who first assisted in saving Washington’s efforts before later betraying him. His tale will have you wondering if maybe his life wouldn’t make a good music.


‘New York Exposed’: Taking on corruption in the Gilded Age

In this week’s podcast, we discuss the tale of Madame Restell, the infamous 19th century abortionist and the moral reformer who brought her down — Anthony Comstock.  Comstock succeeded in destroying Restell in 1878. But the moral crusaders were just getting started.

Old New  York luxuriated in a complex system of rewards to protect its vice industries. The takedown of Tammany Hall’s Boss Tweed in the 1870s and illicit providers like Restell only scratched the surface of corruption, held in place by the compromised and easily-bought police department. How could reform-minded New Yorkers even try and fix this problem if it seemed that every other person benefited from it?


In New York Exposed: The Gilded Age Scandal That Launched The Progressive Era, author Daniel Czitrom reveals the architects of what became known as the Lexow Committee, the state task force which eventually — after a couple rough starts — blew the lid off of New York’s most corrupt practices and sent Tammany Hall, once again, into decline. (The committee is named for New York state senator Clarence Lexow.)

At the center of this story is Dr. Charles H. Parkhurst, the reverend who railed against unchecked vice and the police infrastructure which kept fueling it. Parkhurst sounds a bit like a bore, but New York was in need of his determination and tenacity; he was the Gilded Age’s bulldog. His cries of reform from the pulpit led to his participation in the Society for the Prevention of Crime, a private watchdog group which applied great pressure on New York’s most corrupt elite.

As Czitrom reveals, holding this vice racket in place was Tammany Hall, the Democratic machine who repeatedly defaulted to graft and shadiness after short periods of reform. But the reform leaders on the state level (mostly Republicans) who helped form the Lexow Committee were no angels.  What emerged, however, was a fragile Republican-led attempt at ridding government of excess — and expunging Tammany from power.

Some members of the Lexow Committee tale are featured in this illustration, including  Chief of Police Thomas Byrnes, Joseph Choate, John W. Goff, Clarence Lexow and lawyer William Howe.

Courtesy New York Public Library
Courtesy New York Public Library

Czitrom, a Bronx-born professor at Mount Holyoke College, achieves a startling feat; he expertly untangles a complex web of politics and manages to make board meetings and testimonies sound interesting. This is a crucial and important moment in New York City history, and I’ve never had the pleasure of hearing it described as vividly as it appears in New York Exposed.

The problems of Gilded Age would certainly not be solved by the Lexow Committee, but its bold gestures would come to define the Progressive Era.  And its influence — the rinse-and-repeat cycle of reform, what Czitrom calls the Lexow Effect — echoes into present day.

New York Exposed: The Gilded Age Scandal That Launched The Progressive Era

By Daniel Czitrom
Oxford University Press

For More on Jane Jacobs….

We hope you enjoyed our 200th Bowery Boys podcast on Jane Jacobs. For further reading on her life, philosophy and work, we recommend the following books, most of which we used as source material for this show.

The Death and Life of Great American Cities by Jane Jacobs — Obviously you should start with Jacobs’ opus on how the American city works (well, at least the city of the 1960s).  She has a clear, approachable and pragmatic way of looking at urban problems. You’ll also notice immediately how modern city planners have used some of the ideas she’s described.

Wrestling With Moses by Anthony Flint — Perhaps the most succinct book on the specific crises which pitted Robert Moses with Jacobs, a breezy and engaging tale of New York City in the 1950s and ’60s.

Jane Jacobs: Urban Visionary by Alice Sparberg Alexiou — If you’d like a good biography on Jacobs, try this enjoyable read (published in 2006, the year of Jacobs’ death) that gives an overview of her life and career.

Becoming Jane Jacobs by Peter Laurence — If you’re looking for something more recent, this brand new biography uniquely explores the origins of how she developed her ideas of urban places. Even if you’ve read any of the books listed above, Laurence’s book goes more deeply into her many influences.

The Battle For Gotham by Roberta Brandes Gratz — For even more expansive look at the legacies of both Moses and Jacobs, especially in the proceeding decades. Gratz takes specific aim at more recent projects in New York in a very personalized way.

The Village by John Strausbaugh — A wide-lens history of Greenwich Village, Strausbaugh spends a great amount of time looking at how Jacobs assisted in the salvation of her neighborhood, and how these preservation battles interlocked with the culture of the day.

The Power Broker by Robert Caro — Jacobs famously doesn’t even make an appearance in Caro’s legendary, barn-burning biography, but the book remains essential reading for anybody interested in mid-century America.


Or burrow your way through the New York Times archives of material on the battles waged by Jane Jacobs and Village community activists against the city.  Start with these:

Shopping Scarce In City Projects “Most of the 350,000 New Yorkers living in public housing must go outside the projects for the loaf of bread, the quart of milk, the daily newspaper and the sociability of the candy store, coffee shop or tavern.” (June 16, 1957)

Road Test Halted In Washington Square: Closing of Park to General Traffic Called Success By Village Leaders (November 25, 1958)

Two Blighted Downtown Areas Are Chosen For Urban Renewal (February 21, 1961)

Board of Estimates Votes Expressway Across Manhattan (March 8, 1968)

And here’s Jane’s 2006 obituary in the Times.


Below: Washington Square in 1930. Photo by Samuel H Gottscho. Courtesy the Museum of the City of New York

Courtesy Museum of the City of New York
Courtesy Museum of the City of New York

To celebrate the 100th anniversary of her birth (May 4), the Municipal Art Society, with funding by the Rockefeller Foundation, has been hosting a series of events this year. From the website #JJ100:

“The celebration will pay tribute to Jane Jacobs on the 100-year anniversary of her birth by highlighting self-organized activities and events that embody Jane’s lasting legacy in cities around the world.”

Starting with Jane’s Walk in May, and culminating at the Habitat III Conference in Quito, Ecuador, Jane Jacobs at 100 will promote self-organized Jacobsian programming and projects taking place in New York and in cities around the world.”  Keep checking in at their website for more information. And of course Jane’s Walk arrives in May!


Meanwhile The Center for the Living City is taking a fascinating approach to their celebration of Jacobs’ legacy. Check out their dedicated page Jane’s 100th for a list of events and unique objectives. Including getting Jane Jacobs on a postage stamp! (How is she not on a postage stamp? Harry Potter has a postage stamp!)  Author Peter Laurence has set up a petition for this that you obviously must sign.

You also may be interested in their new project being launched as part of their Jacobs celebrations — the Urban Acupuncture Network.


By the way, if you’re interested in hearing the entire 1962 chat by Jane Jacobs that we featured in our show, you can hear it here.

Or perhaps you’d like to catch the new Robert Moses/Jane Jacobs opera — A Marvelous Order!

New Bowery Boys podcast: We look at our own history and to the future

As we prepare for our #200th episode — and the release of the first-ever Bowery Boys book — we’ve decided to take a look back at our last 100 shows, at some of the highlights of the past six or so years.  What were some of our favorite episodes? The most controversial episode? What’s the weirdest episode among the past 100 shows? (Clue: It has to do with a current presidential candidate!)

But we start by officially introducing you to Adventures In Old New York, our new book coming out in May.  We give you a little insight into its development and what history you can expect to find in it.

To get this week’s episode, simply download it for FREE from iTunes or other podcasting services or get it straight from our satellite site.

You can also listen to the show on Stitcher streaming radio and TuneIn streaming radio from your mobile devices.

Or listen to it straight from here:


The Bowery Boys: New York City History podcast is brought to you …. by you!

We are now producing a new Bowery Boys podcast every two weeks.  We’re also looking to improve the show in other ways and expand in other ways as well — through publishing, social media, live events and other forms of media.  But we can only do this with your help!

We are now a member of Patreon, a patronage platform where you can support your favorite content creators for as little as a $1 a month.

Please visit our page on Patreon and watch a short video of us recording the show and talking about our expansion plans.  If you’d like to help out, there are five different pledge levels (and with clever names too — Mannahatta, New Amsterdam, Five Points, Gilded Age, Jazz Age and Empire State). Check them out and consider being a sponsor.

We greatly appreciate our listeners and readers and thank you for joining us on this journey so far. And the best is yet to come!




The history and future of Gowanus: Interview with author Joseph Alexiou

Brooklyn gentrification has reached a curious impasse — the Gowanus Canal.

The neighborhood surrounding it thrives with new housing developments, trendy restaurants and bars, music venues, shuffleboard clubs and even a Whole Foods. Curbed just named it neighborhood of the year. It’s now a destination for foodiesPity about that fetid and uniquely aromatic body of water then, a SuperFund site since 2010 and a problem that has vexed Brooklyn for decades. (Black mayonnaise anyone?)

The Gowanus is also pivotal to the history of Brooklyn — and all of New  York City — as enjoyably laid out by author Joseph Alexiou in his new book Gowanus: Brooklyn’s Curious Canal.

The shores of Gowanus Creek have been critical to Brooklyn’s growth since the early Dutch days.  Its story is surprisingly thrilling and robust, from the bloody Revolutionary War battle fought on its shores to its transformation into an artery for industry.  Residents  have struggled with the Gowanus’ toxic qualities — both in the water itself and the criminal life it seems to regularly attract — for over a century and a half.

I wish there was a book like this for every foul, troublesome thing in New York.  Gowanus feels like a biography with an engaging protagonist — plucked from innocence and slowly corrupted — that you want to help save by the end.

Given the current situation in the neighborhood — anybody looking for a cheap apartment?Gowanus is an important and urgent read.  Plus the book is nominated for a GANYC Apple Award for outstanding achievement in non-fiction book writing! (Check out the full list of nominees here.) On the eve of the awards ceremony this Monday, I asked Alexiou a few questions about his experiences researching this curious creek:

Greg Young: What’s your particular connection to the Gowanus? How did you decide to develop this as a book subject?

Joseph Alexiou: I lived in Gowanus from 2006–2011, and happened upon the canal quite by accident, but it was love at first sight. I spent  several years  in the neighborhood  before making my foray into freelance writing, when I realized the area was a goldmine of funny stories and and weird characters.
The pollution was also so extreme and kind of surprising, which I learned about thanks to the appearance of Sludgie the Whale in 2007. Eventually, I ended up in journalism school, where my obsessions and nerdish love of history became the subject for a book proposal class.


GY: Since your book is really arranged like a biography of the Gowanus, what would say has been its personality over the decades?

JA: The Gowanus has always been stubborn and dependable, and muddy. Definitely thoughtful— a calm, earthly reminder of the powers of nature with that occasional tendency to overflow. But the beginning it was a lot more crunchy and pastoral, full of wildlife and pleasant breezes. But as industry arrived, the Gowanus became stinky, smelly, exciting and unsavory—perhaps just a little bit dangerous. The foreboding sense of doom was its personality for a long time. But with the dynamic nature of cities and waterways, that grittiness is evolving yet again.


Illustration from The Stone House of Gowanus, Scene of the Battle of Long Island (1909) by Georgia Fraser


GY: Were you surprised to find how important the Gowanus has been to the overall history of Brooklyn? It seems like its story reflects many of the changes that have happening to the city (and borough) over the decades?

JA: When I discovered that the name “Gowanus” appeared in some of the oldest documented history of New York—dating back to 1636—that’s how I knew there was a particular history to be told. It was a surprise, but also a relief when I discovered how often the name “Gowanus” appeared across newspaper pages and old documents, once I had started really researching the book. So many people used it for business, pleasure, crossed its banks, complained about the traffic, fell into it!


It’s a really unique kind of New York waterway—naturally occurring, then industrialized, then neglected. It’s difficult to move and get around, and often caused much trouble because of the flooding. So many people have invested in it, cursed it, pondered its existence, and written about Gowanus throughout history because it was weird and offbeat, a wrinkle in the map. That proved to be quite a boon, and a great vantage point from which to observe the history of Brooklyn.


GY: Is there anything truly ‘natural’ about the Gowanus anymore? I confess to strolling around it sometimes, trying to picture it as a natural body of water. Is there anything about it at all that remotely resembles the creek that you introduce us to at the beginning?

JA: Well, the rise and fall of the tide is one of the remaining original aspects of the canal. There’s no real wetland left around the canal, although if the walls were knocked down it would start to rebuild itself. Perhaps I should give a nod to little snippets of nature that pop up at street ends (Second Avenue comes to mind) that sort of mimic the original landscape. But imagination is helpful!


View from Gowanus Heights, Brooklyn, 1840, painted by Herrmann Julius Meyer (courtesy Museum of the City of New York)


GY: The community has a fondness and love for the Gowanus, even considering the health concerns that have vexed it for decades. What do you think is the specific appeal to living near here?

JA: For a very long time it was simply that it didn’t cost very much. But lately, for the more visually-minded, the neighborhood has a unique shape apart from the grid. The industrial architecture, bridges, funny signs, graffiti—all of this gives the neighborhood great character and personality. A soaring warehouse building or an unusual edifice gives a break from the monotony of endless streets. It’s very Jane Jacobsian, but strange breaks in the city grid, or old buildings repurposed, allow for newly creative use and exploration. This particular appeal has long existed in contemporary Gowanus.

 Gowanus Canal from Second Street, 1986, Randy Dudley, from the Brooklyn Museum collection1

GY: Your book explores the struggles to clean up the Gowanus over the decades. There’s obviously a great urgency now due to the residential boom in the neighborhood.  Do you think it’s really possible to rehabilitate the Gowanus at this point, at least in a cost effective way? Do you think it will ever be considered ‘safe’ in our lifetimes?

JA: “Safe” is a relative term, and within the next two decades I do believe it will become much cleaner, and safer. I don’t know if the canal will ever be swimmable though, as raw sewage will always be in danger of spilling into the water (albeit much less than now, if the EPA plans go accordingly)—some problems are just too immense to totally solve.


GY: And, out of concern for your safety – just how much time did you actually have to spend near the Gowanus itself? God forbid you didn’t actually go anywhere close to the water?!

JA: I’ve been down to the Gowanus quite a bit, and gone out on a boat, no less than three times! I can’t say I felt totally safe during any of the voyages, but it was exhilarating! It’s a fantastic and totally unique way of seeing Brooklyn, and the city!

The Bowery Boys ten favorite
 New York City history books of 2015

With the holiday season arriving, you may actually have time to get a little more reading done. May I suggest the following ten books, my favorite New York City history books of 2015? They don’t have a lot in common — ranging from a children’s book with a great heart to a massive tome about a great entertainer — but their perspectives into the greater tale of New York City history are rich, original, sometimes provocative, and always entertaining.

While warm nostalgia is certainly represented on this list (Coney Island Reader, St. Marks Is Dead), a great number focus on the uglier side of New York City — from the industrial deformities that sometimes define a city (Gowanus, Taming Manhattan) to the questionable moral judgments of a supposedly informed society (Santa Claus Man, Spectacle).

Dead Wake, my favorite book of 2015, recounted the complicated story of an international tragedy on its 100th anniversary. Erik Larson’s tale of the RMS Lusitania is notable for its various viewpoints, excellently woven into one seamless, frightening narrative. It accomplished something I never thought possible — it made me want to watch the movie Titanic again.

Some of the books have been reviewed on this site already, and a couple others will be the focus of longer pieces in the next couple months. (I swear I have a great excuse; I was too busy writing the Bowery Boys book, coming out next year!)

And if you haven’t finished holiday gift shopping, then just take this list to the store with you:



City on the Grid: How New York Became New York
By Gerard Koeppel
De Capo Press

The Croton water system, the subway, skyscrapers — these things seem inevitable within modern New York City today. What would the city be without them? But the grid plan, the masterwork of civic planning created by the Commissioners Plan of 1811, is on a different level from those; every element of life in Manhattan is determined by the placement of streets and avenues. Cities often took grids into their skeletal development — early Manhattan was a collection of small systems — but the grand ambitions of early 19th century city planners are almost hard to fathom.  Koeppel takes us into the motivations for creating this mighty, orderly system and the methods in which they were plowed — sometimes violently — through the topography of New York.  Even its imperfections (like that original lack of a large open space) are fascinatingly told here.



The Coney Island Reader
Through Dizzy Gates of Illusion
edited by Louis J. Parascandola and John Parascandola
Columbia University Press

Everybody sees Coney Island a little differently. Most people know it for the amusements but not everybody has the same feeling about them. One person craves the beaches, the food. Another prefers a stroll along the boardwalk, fireworks, an evening Cyclones game. Others live nearby, too familiar with the swelling weekend crowds. And some people — and this seems like blasphemy — have had their fill of Nathan’s hot dogs.

In The Coney Island Reader we get a time machine through its many iterations, thanks to the observations of dozens of writers.  This is perhaps the only book in history that features the writing of e.e. cummings and Robert Moses. One saw “[t]he incredible temple of pity and terror,  mirth and amazement,” the other “overcrowding at the public beach, inadequete play areas and lack of parking space.”  Ah, Coney Island. It’s what you make of it.



Dead Wake:  The Last Crossing of the Lusitania
By Erik Larson
Crown Publishers

This captivating new narrative non-fiction from Larson (The Devil In The White City) follows the tragic fate of the RMS Lusitania from four sectors.  In England, a group of cryptoanalysts in shadowy Room 40  attempt to crack German messages as their U-boats began prowling through British-controlled waters. Meanwhile, President Woodrow Wilson, still mourning the loss of his wife, attempts to keep American neutrality intact in the face of growing threats.

But the two central perspectives are what grant Dead Wake its lurching, inevitable dread — that of the unwitting passengers of the Lusitania and of the U-boat which would destroy it.  And Larson switches between them like the dance of predator and prey in a nature documentary.



Gowanus: Brooklyn’s Curious Canal
Joseph Alexiou
New York University Press

The Gowanus Canal is absolutely disgusting, and Alexiou’s engaging history of this ancient Brooklyn waterway is probably the most pleasant thing associated with it. Few today could look at its ramshackle, hemmed-in borders and know how vital the Gowanus was to the development of Brooklyn, from the earliest days when a critical Revolutionary War battle was waged on its shore to its importance as a waterway of trade and industry. It’s the gradual corroding powers of that industry that have transformed this once-bucolic shore into a putrid deathtrap for aquatic life and a health concern for modern residents.  Gowanus has an urgency that few history books possess; its last pages take you to a modern, thriving neighborhood in an unstable relationship with the body of water that defines it.



Oskar and the Eight Blessings
Richard Simon and Tanya Simon
Illustrated by Mark Siegel
Roaring Brook Press/Macmillan Publishers

What is a fictional children’s book doing on a history book list?! Well, this is no ordinary story.  Oskar, a waif with wide eyes and curly hair, is sent to New York by his parents under troubling circumstances, to get him out of perilous, Nazi-controlled Europe.  Nobody knows he’s arrived in New York. It’s during a snowstorm and Oskar needs to walk 100 blocks by himself through a completely foreign and bewildering city to get to his aunt’s house.

Authors Richard Simon and Tanya Simon aren’t setting Oskar out on a random landscape, but one uniquely tied to a specific time — the seventh day of Hanukkah 1938, which also happens to be Christmas Eve. Illustrations by Mark Siegel wonderfully captures New York as a sort of wistful historic mirage, a child’s distorted gaze over a city, enchanting and endless.  His illustrations seem to generate warmth as the story progresses towards its poignant and beautiful ending.



Santa Claus Man
Alex Palmer
Lyons Press

In 1913 John D. Gluck seemed to conjure up a genius solution for handling those piles of Santa Claus letters written by needy children. Following the Gilded Age, New York City was filled with wealthy residents interested in charitable concerns. Why not bring the two together via his very own Santa Claus Association?

But Mr. Gluck would have topped Santa’s naughty list, concocting one of the most shocking scams of the early 20th century.   Palmer, the great grandnephew of Mr. Gluck, turns this surprising tale into a fast and clever romp through New York, racing from the newly built Woolworth Building to the most famous department store of its day – Macy’s.  The Santa Claus Man is a rich, sensational story of holiday spirit corrupted by audacity and greed, fueled by the media at the dawning of the Jazz Age.



Sinatra: The Chairman
James Kaplan

In time for Frank’s 100th birthday, Kaplan gives us the second half (the first Frank: The Voice came out in 2011) of his massive tribute to one of the 20th century’s definitive performers.  In the years covered here — from his Oscar win for From Here To Eternity in 1954 to his death in 1998 — Sinatra becomes more than a talent. He’s both a player behind the scenes, from Toots Shor’s in Midtown Manhattan to the office of John F. Kennedy, and upfront in the spotlight with glamorous love interests like Juliet Prowse and Mia Farrow. (Kaplan also weighs on the possible paternity of Mia’s son Ronan!) Lovingly researched — a warts-and-all bio — Kaplan’s book is way too long to read while drinking martinis but you’ll certainly be tempted.



Spectacle: The Astonishing Life of Ota Benga
Pamela Newkirk
Amistad, HarperCollins Publishers

In 1906, visitors to the Bronx Zoo observed a rather bizarre sight in the Monkey House — the exhibition of a man in African dress, often accompanied by a parrot or an orangutan. His name is Ota Benga, Newkirk’s engaging new biography is both a sincere ode to his tragic life and a contemporary accusation of the terrible forces that exploited him over a century ago.  The story is really about the ghost of Ota Benga.

He spoke little English and there are no accounts from his perspective. Almost everything we know is from the perspective of a jaundiced press and the glare of condescending authority. He was the subject of great fabrications over the years; the truth is almost impossible to extricate from hyperbole.  But the story is really about the ghost of Ota Benga.  While his story is front and center in Spectacle, he barely raises his voice. He never had one.



St. Marks is Dead: The Many Lives Of America’s Hippest Street
Ada Calhoun
W. W. Norton & Company

There’s no other way to tell the story of St. Mark’s Place in the East Village than the personal. (We broke out our own personal tales in our podcast from earlier this year.)  Calhoun saw its history first hand as a child, and her admiration and love for its gritty punk days is evident from page one. This is a grand complete history of one of New York’s most flexible streets, alive with anecdotes from its days on Peter Stuyvesant’s farm to its rich immigrant life. But let’s be honest — its the crazy, vibrant days of Andy Warhol and Keith Haring where the book really becomes a delightful page-turner. While the pages are sometimes glittery with nostalgia, the author never forgets to underscore the music and the madness with the reality of St. Mark’s vicious and sometimes ugly shadows.



Taming Manhattan: Environmental Battles in the Antebellum City
Catherine McNeur
Harvard University Press

Here is New York as it actually was.  Dogs and pigs — hundreds of them — wading through muddy streets of detritus, neighborhoods reeking of human filth and boiling offal.  Blocks dominated by poorly constructed buildings, spilling waste into the streets.  Foul and unhealthy conditions for daily living, fostering sickness and disease. Watch out for that dead horse in the street.

To be fair, it may not have been that terrible all at once, but you come out of reading Taming Manhattan with an appreciation of how far the city has come in terms of cleanliness. You’ll certainly need a bath afterwards.

There was a class and racial component to this sudden ‘taming’.  New York’s new wealthy classes, enriched by the opening of the Erie Canal, wanted clean promenades and handsome private parks in which to luxuriate.  Watching the many changing motivations unspool in McNeur’s dense but exciting narrative makes for a surprisingly unpredictable tale.