They

As I stood one morning in front of Vesuvio's, which had closed for business, a woman approached me and was horrified. She expressed extreme dismay that such a legendary, iconic merchant would go out of business in New York City. How could such a thing happen? Why would anyone let it happen? Something must be done. They are pushing all the small businesses out.

The concept of They has become a private joke between a friend and myself. Unlike Chuckles, They are a much more insidious threat. Their tentacles extend far and wide. They are responsible for all the economic problems, as well as many other ills in New York City and in the country at large.

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Pirate, Part 2

When I arrived at the Sailors Snug Harbor (see Part 1 here), it was late afternoon. It was quiet, with no rush or crush of visitors. I was virtually alone on the 83-acre property. There was a sense of authenticity, much like Richmond Town, another historic site on Staten Island which had come as a huge surprise to me.
There is collection of historic buildings on the site, however, time was fleeting. I made a quick tour by car, parked, and walked to the Noble Museum.

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Pirate, Part 1

This is a city of islands, shoreline, beaches, bays, canals, piers, cruise ships, ocean freight, ferries, tugboats, boardwalks, sailboats, and even jet skis and kayaking. It is not Venice, but water defines and constrains its borders, and the congestion encountered when leaving or entering a borough will make this abundantly clear.

In Manhattan Island, I wrote:

It is important to note and easy to forget that, first and foremost, Manhattan is an island, and that its role as a harbor is what led it to become the great city that it is. By the early 1800s, after construction of the Erie Canal, NYC was an international port and the greatest shipping center between Europe and America. Unlike cities like San Francisco or Portland, Maine where the maritime presence is very strong, one could easily go weeks, months or longer in NYC and never see or sense the water.

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Broadway is Broadway

I often take calls in the course of business from non-residents of the city, who, unfamiliar with the details of Manhattan, question me about my Broadway address. Is it THE Broadway? they ask. Yes, I reply, it is THE Broadway. However, Broadway, which spans the entire length of Manhattan, varies considerably depending on where you are. At one time, not long ago, Broadway in SoHo was only a quiet commercial/industrial thoroughfare. But it has changed.

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No Cannibals

In 1989, Daniel Rakowitz shocked New York City when he murdered and chopped up his ex-girlfriend Monika Beerle, made a soup out of her body, and served it to the homeless in Tompkins Square Park. Rakowitz, the "Butcher of Tompkins Square," was found not guilty by reason of insanity and moved to a state hospital for the criminally insane.

It is hard for anyone to imagine, even to those of us who lived in New York City, that not so long ago in the 1970s, the East Village was one of the most frightening areas to live in or visit. Extraordinary, because it was just a stroll away from the center Village and some of the most desirable and expensive real estate in New York City.

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Green-Wood

When you have mausoleums the size of trophy homes, you know you are not in an average cemetery. This National Historic Landmark is enormous - 600,000 graves spread out over 478 acres. It is the final resting place of many of New York City's illuminati: Leonard Bernstein, Boss Tweed, Charles Ebbets, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Louis Comfort Tiffany, Horace Greeley, et. al.

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Fatu Hiva

I have always had a fascination with and love of islands. At one time, I pursued that interest much more actively. My fascination was fulfilled with many trips to the West Indies, Fire Island, Martha's Vineyard, Nantucket, and Monhegan Island (Maine), as well as with readings on islands around the world.

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Little Red

I'm not sure what they do on the first day of first grade these days - perhaps a review of the principles of recycling and waste management or an introduction to recombinant DNA. My first day of first grade was held in a newly built school. Everything was brand spanking new, including the green chalkboard.

Our teacher drew a large red apple, filling in the entire thing with red chalk. After successfully identifying it, she erased it. However, no matter how much writing and erasing was done, a hint of that red apple remained on the board for the entire year, much as it has remained in my mind.

It was a much simpler time, for sure, in a much simpler place but superior to the education of my parents who were educated in a one-room school house with one grade per row. One teacher taught the eight grades simultaneously.

Now we have pre-school as the norm and parents stressing about their children being admitted to prep schools like the Dalton School with acceptance rates of only 14%. Barely out of the womb and kid's trajectories are being plotted for Ivy league schools.

The Little Red School House has been a fixture in the heart of Greenwich Village for near a century. It occupies two buildings at the corner of Bleecker Street and Avenue of the Americas. Like many establishments in the city, it is easily overlooked - nothing in particular screams school house and the red brick is typical of the structures around it. The Little Red School House is generally considered New York City's first progressive school. From their website:

In the early 1900s, Elisabeth Irwin, John Dewey and other progressive educators developed a new educational approach based on active learning instead of passive absorption of facts. “The complacent formalism of schools, its uncritical and therefore uncreative spirit, must be replaced by an honest hospitality to experimentation,” Irwin wrote.

Elisabeth Irwin founded the Little Red School in 1921 as an alternative public elementary school. Parents and students loved the new dynamic learning community. It was an exciting place to learn, with a palpable spirit of curiosity, creativity and challenge. However, during the Depression, the Board of Education could not afford to keep the school open.

Parents pledged their own resources, establishing Little Red School House as an independent elementary school. In 1941, the program expanded to include a high school at 40 Charlton Street. For nearly 70 years, we have been a pre-K through twelfth grade school: LREI.

Red apples on the first day of first grade, red paint on school houses. Good things in education are looking a Little Red :)

Note about red school houses: Red was used traditionally for barns and school houses because of the cost of the paint - it was made out of ingredients that were readily available: iron oxide (rust - giving it the distinctive color) along with skim milk, lime and linseed oil.

Related Posts: Meetings With Remarkable Men Part 2, The Little, Finger Painting, Matters of Opinion, That's Quite a Briefcase, Who See the Red, The Scholastic Building

It Hurts Me Too

Please Click and Play Audio Clip to Accompany Your Reading:



In the off chance you have not heard, read or seen, the painting over of a sign at 11-13 Minetta Street is BIG International news. It's a media feeding frenzy. In 1958 the Commons opened here. From the 1950s through the 1960s, it became the home of The Fat Black Pussycat Theatre, a legendary beatnik coffee bar which saw the likes of Bill Cosby, Tiny Tim, Mama Cass Elliot, Richie Havens, and Shel Silverstein. It has been said that it may have been here that Dylan wrote "Blowin' in the Wind" in 1962 (however, everyone wants to lay claim to a Dylan connection and it appears that there is no hard evidence of such).

In 1972 the space became Panchito's, a Mexican restaurant with a main entrance on MacDougal Street and back entrance here at 11-13 Minetta Street. The owner of Panchito's, Bob Englehardt, is 84 and has been a Village resident since 1951. He has owned the building since the Black Pussycat closed in 1963. Bob frequented the club and says:

Why don’t we just take the whole world and set it in concrete? That would save everything. The Village was freedom, it wasn’t a concreted-over straitjacket.

The Pussycat represented the worst of what the Village was. When you wanted to get drugs, get into fights and get with underage girls the Pussycat was where you went. The Village was never about rules. Making someone ask for permission before painting a building is the exact opposite of what made the Village what it was.

I’ve lived in the village since ’51. The Fat Black Pussycat in my opinion was a cesspool. You could barely see anybody because of the smoke, and you couldn’t talk to anybody because half of the people you wanted to talk to wanted to sell you narcotics.

Residents are fuming, tourists are raging, some are threatening to boycott Panchito's. Others, like myself, stopped eating there 30 years ago. I understand the sentiment. The issue is how little of historic significance we have left - neighbors and visitors want to hang on to every last vestige, even though it may have been a cesspool, these are the only connections we have left.

In a way there is irony here - a battle to regulate, preserve and protect the images of a counter-cultural generation known for rebellion. We've seen this kind of controversy before in New York City, when graffiti artists have defaced other artists' work - graffiti over graffiti. Here, of course, we have business painting over another's business. Whose business is it?

Andrew Berman, executive director for the Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation (GVSHP), who called the painting of the sign "a shame" says:

It's a tangible link to this incredibly important era in the neighborhood's history, when so many great musicians and poets and artists used the South Village as a springboard to transform the world. Less and less of it is left.

The street is not part of any existing historic district, however there has been an effort to create a South Village Historic District, which would include Minetta Street. Many feel such a designation would have saved the sign. However, even if the district were protected, Elisabeth de Bourbon, a spokeswoman for the Landmarks Preservation Commission, said in regards to the recent painting over of the old sign:

We would have approved it. We’ve never said no to an owner of a commercial establishment who’s wanted to cover advertising for a previous tenant.

There has been a lot of romanticizing of this small, one-block street. I understand the concerns of the residents and the love of the their street, however, maintaining charm is a war here. Sandwiched between MacDougal Street and 6th Avenue, Minetta Street is often overflow for the late night drunken revelry of MacDougal Street and serves as a shortcut between the neighboring streets.

You can read the New York Times article here and the GVSHP story here. There's not much we can do about that sign now (although some believe it could be restored by removing the new paint job). I don't want to make light of the situation, but it's for times like this that the Blues are written. If you loosely reinterpret the lyrics of that Elmore James classic (the song link for this story), parts of them fit. I'm playing it a few more times. Why don't you join me and share our pain? Because when things go wrong, It Hurts Me Too ...

Song Note: Thank you Eric Clapton for this wonderful interpretation of the Elmore James classic - It Hurts Me Too :)

Related Posts: The Real Peel, Diamonds and Rust, Model for Decorum, Bohemian Flavor of the Day, Summer of Drugs, Physical Graffiti

Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire

March 25, 2011 was the 100th anniversary date of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, the deadliest industrial disaster in the history of New York City (and fourth largest in the United States.) There were 146 deaths. The immigrant garment workers died as a result of being trapped in the fire or by jumping to their deaths.

The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory occupied the 8th, 9th and 10th floors of the 10-story Asch Building at 23-29 Washington Place, now known as the Brown Building, owned by New York University and used for their biology and chemistry departments (upper left photo). The building is designated as both a New York City landmark and a National Historic Landmark.

The factory employed approximately 500 workers, primarily women, in the manufacture of shirtwaists*. The workweek was 6 days, nine hours on weekdays and 7 hours on Saturday. At 4:40 Pm on Saturday March 25, 1911, a fired started in a scrap bin on the 8th floor. A bookkeeper contacted the 10th Floor where the owners, Max Blanck and Isaac Harris were located. The worker who received the call on the 10th Floor never hung up the phone, preventing anyone from alerting the 9th Floor where 250 workers were present. The spread of fire was rapid - within 30 minutes, fire had swept through the floor and only a small number were able to escape via elevator. It is believed that exit doors were locked. Some burned while others jumped to their death while onlookers watched helpless below. Firetrucks had appeared on the scene in minutes, but ladders were only able to reach the 6th Floor.

The company owners, who had manage to survive by fleeing to the roof of the building were indicted on charges of manslaughter. They were acquitted but later lost a civil suit in 1913 with the plaintiffs winning $75 per deceased victim.

This landmark industrial disaster led to changes in national laws, particularly regarding improved factory safety standards and working conditions. There are many more details and stories regarding the fire, the victims, families, labor laws and immigration from that time period. See a New York Times article here with links to many other articles on the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire ...

*From the New York Times:

Triangle was one of the nation’s largest makers of high-collar blouses that were part of the shirtwaist style, a sensible fusion of tailored shirt and skirt. Designed for utility, the style was embraced at the turn of the century by legions of young women who preferred its hiked hemline and unfettered curves to the confining, street-sweeping dresses that had hobbled their mothers and aunts.

Fort Schuyler

There are not a lot of forts in New York City and you certainly do not expect to run across a huge one, unbeknownst to yourself. It is unlikely you will ever run into this one by accident - Fort Schuyler and the Maritime College are not on the way to anywhere - they are destinations, located at the very tip of the Throgs Neck peninsula in the Bronx. On my recent excursion to the area, my intention was to explore Silver Beach. It is here by accident, that I discovered Fort Schuyler and the State University of New York Maritime College, founded in 1874 and the first of its kind in the United States.

I met a couple of cadets, and like all the military men I have encountered, they were very approachable. They answered a number of my questions regarding the Maritime College and explained the reason for small sailboats - there was a regatta under way, with the boaters undaunted by the cold weather. They also informed me that the entire area was open to visitors with the entrance way nearby.

I was surprised at how free and easy I was able to tour the area with no restriction and virtually no other visitors. Post-9/11, virtually everything in New York City has an added layer of security, including some of the most innocuous office buildings requiring photo ID. Places like the lobby of the Woolworth Building, one of my favorite spots to take visitors, is, sadly, completely off limits unless you have specific business in the building. As far as Fort Schuyler, however, I suppose a man in a small automobile armed only with cameras, poses little threat to a massive fort with military presence.

The location of the fort and college is at the very tip of the peninsula, where Long Island Sound meets the East River, affording sweeping vistas including Long Island, the Bronx, Queens and a panorama of the Manhattan skyline (essentially the same as that of Silver Beach). The Throgs Neck Bridge is ever present, juxtaposed against nearly every structure as can be seen in many of my photos of the excursion - see the full gallery here.

Fort Schuyler was one of many forts built along the east coast of the United States after the War of 1812, when it became apparent that the U.S. coast was poorly defended against foreign invasion. The French Style fortification was dedicated in 1875. The site also has a maritime museum, open to the public. Read more here.

Everything was pristine and immaculate - the grounds, buildings, roadways and artifacts. It was quite chilly, but this is the best of weather conditions for seeing New York City outdoors - crisp air, clear blue skies and greater visibility. Although the warmer months are preferable for walking and touring, the heat of summer also usually means hazy skies with poor visibility and, if you are taking photographs, poorer results. If you're looking for something truly off the beaten path, try the Throgs Neck peninsula with Silver Beach and Fort Schuyler :)

Clement Clarke Moore

Chelsea is the former home of the man who brought Christmas to America with A Visit from St. Nicholas (also known as The Night Before Christmas and 'Twas the Night Before Christmas from the first line of the poem). This poem, first published anonymously in 1823, and now attributed to Clement Clarke Moore, is responsible for the conception of Santa Claus from the mid 1800s to today, including his physical appearance, the night of his visit, his transportation by sleigh, the number and names of his reindeer and the tradition of bringing toys to children.

Clement Clarke Moore, a graduate and professor at Columbia College, inherited a large family owned estate which lay north of Houston Street. This area of the city was mostly undeveloped countryside at the time. Clement fought development of New York City as it moved north from lower Manhattan. The proposed street grid in the Commissioner's Plan of 1811 would run through the Moore estate. In 1818, the city's Common Council agreed to spare the area from Houston to 14th Street, west of Sixth Avenue. This is the reason that this neighborhood, the West Village, has such a quaint mélange of narrow streets with curves and oblique angles.

Moore did, however, begin to develop Chelsea, dividing it into lots and selling them to prosperous New Yorkers. An apple orchard was donated to the Episcopal Diocese, now home of the General Theological Seminary, which spans an entire city block and where Moore served as the first professor of Oriental Languages.

Regarding the name Chelsea, according to the New York Times, "It was Moore's grandfather Thomas Clarke, a retired British naval officer, who had bought an old farm in 1750 for his retirement and named it Chelsea after the Royal Chelsea Hospital for veterans in London."

Chelsea is largely a residential enclave with streets lined with historic townhouses. This neighborhood was the location of my first apartment in New York City - you can see it here. The western area of Chelsea, along 10th and 11th Avenues was industrial and in the 1990s, there was a migration of galleries and art studios from SoHo to this area, where there are now several hundred galleries.

Apart from the gallery district, Chelsea is not heavily touristed. However, there are numerous places of interest - the Chelsea Market, Chelsea Piers, the High Line Park, Hotel Chelsea, London Terrace, the Empire Diner, the IAC Building designed by Frank Gehry, the Rubin Museum of Art, the Joyce Theater, Dance Theater Workshop and the Kitchen.

In today's photo you can see a small group of historic buildings on Ninth Avenue. The corner property at 183 Ninth Avenue at 21st Street) is the Royer-Wells House, the second oldest house in Chelsea. This Federal-style home was completed in 1832.

I owe the charm of my first residence and my love of the West Village to Clement Clarke Moore :)

Gotta Shoot Village Cigars

There are many iconic photographic images of New York City. Typically I leave them alone - iconic for me translates as it's already been done and done well, you probably won't do it better or in a more interesting way. So, rather than look like a wannabe or copycat, I look elsewhere.

However, there are many, many subjects in this city that, given the right time and conditions, will lure anyone with a camera. Photos like that of Village Cigars in a snowstorm by Igor Maloratsky. A mysterious Hess Family triangular mosaic is set in the sidewalk in front of Village Cigars - see my story and photo here.

Village Cigars at 110 7th Avenue South at the corner of Christopher Street occupies a unique, tiny, one-story triangular building. This neighborhood landmark has been located there since 1922. It has been seen in film and there have been numerous images taken over the course of its history, in a variety of seasons, available in both color and black and white, as stock photos for advertising, art prints, greeting cards and photos sold on the streets to tourists.

Try as one might to exorcise those legendary photos from ones mind, similar conditions often acts as a trigger. Caught in a snowstorm while walking down Christopher Street with a camera in hand? Gotta shoot Village Cigars :)

Heard It Through the Grapevine

Many New Yorkers, like many Americans, have a love of things French, and in New York City, as elsewhere, we have imported as much of the culture as we can - the food, wine, language, art, film, fashion, style and architecture. Our biggest import of all sits in New York's harbor - the Statue of Liberty.

In many contexts, the very word "French" is virtually synonymous with class or sophistication. Of course the French are also a people that many Americans love to hate, a people who can be trying or difficult. When it comes to food, most are happy to put differences aside. French restaurants and pastry shops abound in New York. Casual French styled bistros or cafés, such as French Roast, however, are not as easy to find.

French Roast has two locations, one located on the Upper West Side, the other, seen in the photo, is in the Village at 78 W. 11th Street. They are open 24/7. One of the most interesting things about French Roast is that it is located on the site of The Old Grapevine Tavern (bottom photo). From the New York Public Library website:

The three story clapboard roadhouse was built in the 18th century and was located on the southeast corner of 11th Street and 6th Avenue. Originally a private home, it eventually became a saloon known as The Hawthorne. The 11th Street side of the building was covered in a gnarled old grapevine and by the early 1800s the establishment was simply known as the Old Grapevine. It quickly became a favorite destination for those wanting to get out of the hustle and bustle of the city (lower Manhattan) and head north towards into the open country (11th Street).

During the Civil War it was a popular hangout of Union officers and Confederate spies. Later, when the Jefferson Market Courthouse was built the local lawyers and politicians would gather there to talk business. Artists and actors also met there. It was the ideal place to get news and information, or in the case of spies and politicians, the ideal place to spread rumors and gossip, leading to the popular phrase “heard it through the grapevine”.

The vine died in 1883 and was cut down. The Old Grapevine Tavern was demolished in July, 1915 to make way for a six story apartment building.

It was missed after its demise. The New York Times ran an article: "Passing Of the Old Grapevine. Quaint Landmark Known to Artists, Actors and Good Fellows Generally is Torn Down."

Reviews of French Roast run the gamut. Whether it is food, decor or service, like France and the French, some love the very things that others hate. I find it a pleasant alternative to the standard diner for breakfast or brunch. From the New York Times:

These two restaurants are both open 24 hours a day, which means you can get bad food and surly service around the clock. Basically, they are diners masquerading as French cafes.

Some question the etymology of the grapevine phrase. Some don't like the French. Others don't like French Roast. I heard it through the grapevine :)

Hanging Around

When I was in grade school, I became intrigued with the hangman's noose. It was easy to get the attention of fellow classmates presenting such a macabre artifact. It is extremely simple to tie but its very nature would keep most from even trying. Who would learn to make such a thing and why?

The entire subject of hanging is fascinating to some and its lure perplexing to others. The facts of hanging, its history, tools, technology and the anatomical and biological aspects of the condemned are all mired in speculation, exaggeration, mystery, misinformation and urban myths. The acquaintance I wrote about in my story Power, once claimed he had the hangman's formula - a supposed equation for calculation of rope length based on a person's body weight. In fact, such a thing does exist as the British Table of drops. The original table of the "Long Drop" or measured drop was worked out by William Marwood in 1872. A revised table was issued in 1913. In is still in use by a few countries to this day. You can read more and see the tables here.

The best case in point regarding the interest in hanging in New York City is the Hangman's Elm located in the northwest corner of Washington Square Park which stands 110 feet tall. In 1989, the New York City Department of Parks and Recreation determined that this massive English Elm dates back to 1679, making it over 330 years old and the oldest known tree in Manhattan.

It is still unclear how many, if any, individuals were hung from this elm in public executions which did occur in a nearby gallows - the only recorded execution was of Rose Butler, in 1820, for arson. An article in the New York Times sees some hangings there as likely but other sources cite it all as urban mythology. But the fascination with hanging still exists and the belief that this elm was used for hanging persists. It all makes for a great sound bite or tour factoid, giving the neighborhood just that much more historical color.

I have the privilege of seeing this tree from my home daily and much like the cat who brings home the dead mouse as a macabre gift for its owner, I offer my fellow readers this story and photo of the Hangman's Elm. Whether it's a tree, a noose or the Long Drop table, the fascination with this style of execution just keeps hanging around...

A Slice of Cheesecake, Part 2

The Brittany - Temple of the Gods of Debauchery

It was clear after moving into Brittany Residence Hall and a brief visit to NYU's primary other residence at the time, Weinstein, that fortune has bestowed us with a better choice.

The Brittany, as it was known at the time, is located at 55 East 10th Street and Broadway. It is a former hotel, built in 1929. The structure has larger, airier rooms and a prewar ambiance.

The Brittany penthouse was a speak-easy at one time with many well known guests like Walter Winchell, Al Pacino and Grateful Dead's Jerry Garcia. The ground floor currently functions as a gallery, Broadway Windows, with displays of student art.

At the time of my stay there, the Brittany was a truly a temple to the gods of debauchery. It was a coed dormitory and in many cases, the rooms themselves became coed with couples living together in suites. Drugs were rampant as were drug dealers, even selling to those outside the student body. One evening, while sitting in a hallway, I had a jacket bloodied by someone who, half asleep on the way to the bathroom, had smashed his hand through a glass door and was running and screaming. I was told by a close friend of a first hand account of a group of students in the nude, high on Quaaludes, playing Frisbee in a hallway.

One of my earliest memories there was visiting a room completely outfitted in UV blacklight for the entertainment of visitors. One fellow student represented himself as a cat burglar and demonstrated his skills by walking on window ledges of this high rise building. Brittany Residence Hall is also where I resided at the time of one of my favorite stories, involving Jimi Hendrix - see Crime Scene here.

Somewhat controversial, The Princeton Review not only provides its well known university ratings in a Best College guide, but also provides a "Top 20 Party School List." NYU has typically made the list. Today however, the university is better known for its coveted #1 Dream School status, rising prominence and the strength of many departments - Courant Institute of Mathematics, NYU Law School, the Film School and Stern School of Business. According to Forbes Magazine, in 2008, NYU was ranked 7th among universities that have produced the largest number of living billionaires.

I recently visited the dorm for the first time since 1970, escorted by an NYU student currently residing there. There were changes of course, most notably increased security - turnstiles requiring student ID card swipes. Things appeared to be much more subdued. However, I did learn that Brittany Hall is considered haunted with reports of unexplained music, lights, footsteps and claims from people who believe that others are watching them. Perhaps the final stirrings of the gods of debauchery ...

A Slice of Cheesecake

Part 1 - The Arrival

I knew nothing of the world and almost nothing about New York City. I had only visited twice on day trips. I had never spent one night away from home alone. There were no ATM machines and I had no bank account. Only some cash.

I had one suitcase and arrived at Port Authority bus terminal, never a beautiful or inviting place for the newcomer. I was excited and scared. This is where I had dreamed of living for some time, but now I was really here and it was big.

I was neither homeless nor on the road. It was 1969, I was 18 and had been accepted to New York University. I had chosen a dorm and was very disappointed that my first choice, Weinstein Hall (the most modern), had been rejected. I was to stay at the older Brittany Residence, a former hotel, under renovation and not quite completed. As an interim measure, for a few weeks, we were housed at the Penn Garden Hotel* on 7th Avenue at 31st Street. I was later to learn that the Brittany, with its prewar ambiance and much larger rooms, was actually highly preferable.

I entered my hotel room and met my roommates. I had never shared a room before either, having grown up with two sisters, so this was another adjustment to be made. We chatted a bit.

It was evening and I was hungry. I had never eaten out alone, had little money to spend on dinner, and I did not want to stray far from the hotel. I recall going to a place resembling a diner and eating at the counter.

Things were expensive here. I could not afford a real dinner, so I ordered cheesecake and a soda. Although a poor meal, on reflection, a slice of New York style cheesecake was quite befitting. My first day trips to the city involved more notable restaurants such as the Albert French Restaurant at 65 University Place, dating to 1868 and once a haven for writers including Thomas Wolfe, Nathan's at Times Square or Luchow's on 14th Street. This place, however, was of no import and as is often the case for a New Yorker, decided on the basis of proximity.

The identity of the restaurant where I first ate on that evening in 1969 shall remain unknown to me and assuredly it was not the "best cheesecake in New York City." But it was only my first night and there would be plenty of time to ferret out the good, the better and the bests in Gotham City. Street cred would come in time and for the newbie in New York, I could have done worse than a slice of cheesecake ...

*The Penn Garden Hotel has gone through numerous incarnations in the last 40 years. The thirty-two story structure was designed by the architects Murgatroyd & Ogden and built in 1929. It was originally called the Hotel Governor Clinton, named for George Clinton (1739-1812), the first governor of New York State. In 1967, the name was changed to the Penn Garden Hotel. In 1971, it became Southgate Tower and in 2004 the Affinia.

Everything Yes

While driving through Queens, on the way to somewhere else, I happened upon the most extraordinary cemetery. Or, cemeteries. Seventeen cemeteries to be exact, straddling the Brooklyn/Queens border. The first, with its exquisite rows of undulating white headstones, turned out to be a cemetery of tremendous historic importance, the Cypress Hills National Cemetery, one of the original fourteen national cemeteries (top photo). Cypress Hills Cemetery was established in 1849 as a nonsectarian burial ground. In 1862, during the Civil War, 2.7 acres were authorized by the private cemetery to be used by the United States federal government as burial spot for Veterans who did in New York City. There are over 21,000 interments in the cemetery. You can read more about it here.

Abutting these grounds, I noticed a number of very large mausoleums. As I was leaving, I saw that the main entrance at the corner of Jamaica and Hale Avenues was open and unguarded, so, completely unfettered I decided to drive in. I discovered the most extraordinary cemetery I have ever been in (center and bottom photos). See my gallery of photos here.

Some of the structures were the size of small homes. Many of the names were quite familiar - Guggenheim, Goldman, Fox, Shubert etc. Could this possibly be the Guggenheim? The Fox of Twentieth Century Fox? The Shubert of theater fame?

Yes they are. Salem Fields Cemetery at 775 Jamaica Avenue in Brooklyn was founded in 1852 by the Central Synagogue and is the resting place for many prominent Jewish families in New York City. Salem Fields has been compared to places like the Père Lachaise Cemetery of Paris. The Guggenheim family mausoleum was modeled after the Tower of the Winds at Athens.

The weather with a cool crisp air was exquisite, the light perfect, the autumn colors beautiful. I was the lone visitor, touring with complete freedom, stopping at every photo opportunity. Unlike many things in New York City, riddled with security procedures, lines, reservations or admission costs, Salem Fields could well have hung a sign for the day - everything yes :)

Wherever You Go, There You Are

There are many distinct neighborhoods in the five boroughs of New York City each with its own flavor, architecture and often a concentration of one or more ethnic groups. Many of these, however, can appear to be rather nondescript and uninteresting to a visitor just passing through. The numbered Streets, Avenues and Places of Queens connote nothing, and row houses are virtually indistinguishable from one another.

A little homework, i.e. reading, goes a long way. I always look to the New York Times, which has done a series entitled If You Are Thinking of Living In... on virtually every neighborhood in the city. This is a great launching point along with some other online reading - Wikipedia typically has an entry for all the New York City neighborhoods.

The formation of Richmond Hill came about as a result of the 1869 purchase of the Lefferts and Welling farms by one Albon Platt Man, a prominent New York attorney. Cookie cutter row houses dominate Richmond Hill, but the neighborhood has a small number of Victorian homes located in a newly proposed historic district. The neighborhood is home to a large number of Indian immigrants from the West Indies and Guyana, evidenced by the merchants on the main shopping thoroughfares - Liberty, Jamaica, and Atlantic Avenues.

Ideally, having a native or former native is a great way to get a real feel for a place and on this journey to Richmond Hill, Queens, I had a friend who had grown up there. So, this expedition was both an exploration for me and simultaneously a walk down memory lane for my friend. There is always such a vicarious thrill taking someone by their old home. The featureless and anonymous comes alive with the recounting of memories of people and activities and gives the lifeless set a cast of characters.

One of my destinations was to be Jahn's, an ice cream parlor with several locations - their first establishment was in the Bronx, dating back to 1897. I had assumed that the Richmond Hill location was still in operation. Sadly however, I discovered that it had closed in 2007.

A number of notable individuals hail from Richmond Hill. Jack Kerouac lived from 1950-1955 at 94-21 134th Street in Richmond Hill, NY and also in Ozone Park with his mother where he wrote On the Road. Kerouac included Queens subject matter not only in On the Road, but also in The Vanity of Duluoz.

The Marx Brothers lived on 134th Street during the 1920s. Fred Gretsch, Jr. manufacturer of Gretsch Guitars, attended Richmond Hill High School as did comic Rodney Dangerfield. New York columnist and Pulitzer Prize writer Jimmy Breslin attended St. Benedict Joseph Labre School in Richmond Hill. Anaïs Nin, known for her erotic writings, lived in Richmond Hill prior to moving to Paris in 1924. Jacob A. Riis was also a resident.

Although the value of the cultural breweries of New York City's well known neighborhoods like Greenwich Village or SoHo can not be discounted, a place like Richmond Hill and the notables who lived there demonstrates the diversity of places that not only are home to many, but also from which greatness incubates. Perhaps there is truth in the old cowboy adage - wherever you go, there you are :)

White House of Ill Repute

The White House has had its Presidential scandals. Much has been well documented, and the home can be seen in photos everywhere.

However, there is another White House riddled with much darker doings in the past, located at 177 Benedict Road in Staten Island, NY, the former home of the notorious crime boss Constantino Paul Castellano. I journeyed to Staten Island to see the place for myself, and I believe these are the only photos you will find of this home.

In 1976, Big Paul Castellano succeeded Carlo Gambino (after his death) as head of the Gambino crime family, the largest Mafia family at the time in the United States.

Paul was born in Brooklyn in 1915, the youngest of three. He dropped out of school in the eighth grade and learned to be a meat cutter in his father's butcher business. His life of crime began early - Paul also ran numbers for his father.

In the 1920s, Staten Island was sparsely populated and isolated - an ideal dumping ground for mafia victims as well as a place for bootlegging, extortion, loansharking, gambling, drug-dealing and smuggling, activities that emerged on the waterfront. By the mid-20th century, Staten Island became a residential enclave for Mafia dons, providing the seclusion they needed. In the 1980s, law enforcement officials estimated the number of "made" Mafia members living on Staten Island at around 60, with names like John Gotti, Aniello Dellacroce, Salvatore Gravano, Frank DeCicco, Thomas Pitera, Costabile Farace and many others.

Castellano's enormous mansion, a replica of the White House of the United States, was built in 1980 in Todt Hill on Staten Island.

At the time Castellano moved into this estate with his family, a Columbian housemaid, Gloria Olarte, began working. A full-blown love affair between Paul and Gloria developed under the eye of Castellano's wife, Nina. Although Mafiosi are known to keep a goomatta on the side while married, Castellano's behavior became more overt and problematic.

Knowing that Castellano conducted business from his home, the FBI planted bugs in Castellano's home in 1983 with the help of Olarte, who had been upset with the way her affair with Paul was going. Olarte let an FBI agent into their home, posing as a repairman. Over 600 hours of conversations detailing the Gambino family business were recorded.

Others in the organization were also not pleased with Castellano and his more mainstream business approach. On Dec. 16, 1985, Castellano and his driver, Thomas Bilotti, were murdered outside of Sparks Steak House at 210 East 46th Street, between Second & Third Avenues in Midtown Manhattan. The hit was ordered by John Gotti, who controlled the family until his 2002 death in prison. The gangland style murder was particularly shocking, occurring as it did during rush hour, in midtown Manhattan, and in modern times.

Not to be upstaged, New York City is proud to be home to its own White House of Ill Repute :)