after a renewed interest in bridges of late, I have been on a mission. By borough I have crossed as follows:
Bronx to Manhattan:
Macombs Dam Bridge in May 2013
Manhattan to Brooklyn:
Brooklyn Bridge: more times then I can count, also via bike
Manhattan Bridge: June 2014
Williamsburg Bridge: Summer 2013
Manhattan to Bronx:
Macombs Dam Bridge
Queens to Manhattan:
Queensboro Bridge, June 2014
GW Bridge and back, July 2013
Wards Island Pedestrian Bridge, May 2013
Triboro (Randalls Island to Manhattan)
That’s all the major bridges with the exception of the Henry Hudson since there’s no pedestrian access on the Verrazano and the High Bridge has not yet re-opened. I really don’t have an interest in walking to the Rockaways so those are out.
What’s my next Great Manhattan Loop related goal? Riverside Drive! I’ve done it up as far as 125th St. but time to do the northern spur that I skipped in favor of a riverside walk two years ago.
The Eldridge Street temple, the first synagogue built by Eastern European Jews on the Lower East Side, the was completed in 1887 to the designs of the Herter Brothers, architects. It is the home of Congregation Khal Adath Jeshurun with Anshe Lubtz, another congregation that joined after the building opened.
”An Orthodox synagogue follows the congregation,” Justice Bookson said, ”or the congregation follows the synagogue, because we can’t ride on the Sabbath.”
The Museum at Eldridge Street aka the Eldridge St. Synagogue is one of the prettiest buildings on the Lower East Side and one of the most amazing interiors in the city. It’s sad to think of how far it fell during the time that the Orthodox population of the Lower East Side dwindled. Sad, but not surprising, due to the general state of the Lower East Side in the 70s and 80s.
Justice Bookson noted that the temple’s centennial is close to that of the Statue of Liberty in 1986. ”The immigrants passed by the statue,” he said, ”and came right here to this neighborhood. So we’re right on the mark. Of course, we hope to restore the synagogue with a lot less money.”
After the 90-minute gathering yesterday, after the applause and amens, the sanctuary was empty again. For now, it will remain silent. And waiting.
They did that, and even more.
Never mind the 126 year old Congregation, the Friends of the Eldridge Street Project is older than I am. By the time I started to work with the Museum in 2007, it was called the Eldridge Street Project and was in the middle of the grand reopening. The amazing Egg Rolls & Egg Creams Festival was seven years old and the museum/synagogue was well on the way to being the marquee tourist destination that it is.Kiki Smith’s wonderful window was installed three years later and it seemed as if the restoration was complete in time for the 125th anniversary.
I feel that I’m lucky to work so closely with the museum. I know more about it then the average NYC resident. Maybe even more than the average Culture Vulture, but there’s so much about which I wasn’t aware. The article about the grand reopening is an amazing overview of the building and congregation’s history. We as a city are lucky to still have it as a part of our present.
By the mid-1950s, without funds or a substantial congregation, the main sanctuary was sealed shut; only a remnant of the original congregation continued to use the smaller ground-floor study hall. Then, in 1971, the water-damaged main sanctuary was surveyed with astonishment by Gerald R. Wolfe, a New York University professor, who founded the Friends of the Eldridge Street Synagogue. Fifteen years later, the preservationist and journalist Roberta Brandes Gratz was so taken by its latent promise that she started the Eldridge Street Project, helped obtain its landmark status and began a fund-raising drive that gradually brought the sanctuary back to life.
But what purpose could such a place serve if its religious function and community were gone? Rather than leave it a monument to an earlier faith, the Eldridge Street Project turned the building into a symbol of a contemporary, secular faith. In the 1990s, the synagogue, its renovation unfinished, became a museum, a center, in the words of the Project, “for historical reflection, aesthetic inspiration and spiritual renewal.”
I had no idea of the buildings parallels with a series of tenements in Alphabet City. The history of the Lower East Side is really a connected one. The Synagogue’s own restoration led to the discovery of a mikvah on the adjacent property at 5 Allen St (now a Howard Johnson)
A clay pipe or a pottery shard is a fine day’s work for an urban archaeologist. Celia J. Bergoffen found a bathhouse.
I’m fascinated by the Lower East Side’s history. That’s obvious each time I do one of the Conservancy’s tours (and return for more like I did this past Sunday). I contemplate moving there if I win the lotto, but sometimes I wonder if I like its present as much as its past.
well at least that’s the challenge I saw upon reading Daniel Smith’s 100 Places You Will Never Visit, one of the titles I’ve finished in a recent reading marathon that is bringing my 2014 total toward respectability. I’ve been to one, and if I can get there on a whim (albeit with a tour group), they can’t all be that inaccessible.
While the majority of the military sites are of no interest to me, from a history lover’s point of view, I loved this book. The vignettes about each location tell you enough about each to pique your curiosity without getting too detailed. While it skewed American, I like that he included a range of international locations. My only complaint was that in ebook conversion, the photo captions were rendered almost too small to be legible and increasing font size had no effect as they were treated as part of the image.
About halfway through May I realized that 300,000 steps for the month was doable after just missing it. And then I became a woman on a mission to make it happen. I wasn’t sure if I had since I was away from my spreadsheet but after entering Weds-Sat… I MADE IT!
305, 841 steps
125.05 miles walked
21.09 miles on the bike
248.49 miles walked
21.09 miles on the bike
499.42 miles walked
124.9 miles on the bike
I’m pretty damn happy with that. Check that, very damn happy. I’m 100 miles shy of my official GTD goal and 150 shy of my personal. While those are a little iffy depending on weather, I’m less than 100K steps from my steps goals. I’m doubly excited as June is the first month where I’ll have year on year steps data. [2013 data: 315,031 steps, 132.24 miles walked and 50.1 miles on the bike].
Yep, I’m going to have to bust my hump to get this… but isn’t that what goals are for?
for all the tours I’ve done with the Lower East Side Jewish Conservancy, I had only done a mini tour of the Lower East Side. It was time to fix that, so I joined this weekend’s tour, the Lower East Side Then and Now. Among other things, I was excited that it included Bialystoker, a building about which I’ve been curious for some time.
I can say without a doubt that this was one of the most interesting tours I’ve done, and also one of the most stunning.
It was a perfect spring day with scarcely a cloud in the sky, which I think led to the vibrant light within the buildings we visited, but I also think Bialystoker would be beautiful wrapped in black construction paper.
While Bialystoker is best known for its mazalot (great information and more and photos), I found the architectural history even more amazing. Yes, the presence of zodiac signs in an orthodox shul is slightly surprising, but challenges of dealing with the conversion of what was the Willets St. Church into Bialystoker Synagogue in 1905 was awe inspiring. I also had no idea that the Manhattan Schist from which it was built was from a quarry practically next door on Pitt St. While the building looks distinctly Jewish with its Stars of David, there are telling pieces of its christian history, including the stained glass and an altar-looking Ark of the Torah, for which the congregation received dispensation for it not facing east. That is believed to be one of the reasons for the extensive imagery of Israel in the synagogue’s interior. While I knew Shelly Silver worshipped at Bialystoker, I had no idea it was once home to Bugsy Siegel and Max Lansky, father of Meyer Lansky. Living history, not all positive.
It’s a really striking mix of then and now. While the neighborhood has changed (and will continue to change with SPURA-more on that later), there’s still a swing back that has been going on since 2000. While the old shteibl aren’t expected to survive long term as their congregations die off, the young returners are worshipping at Bialystoker again.
From E. Broadway we had a quick detour up Norfolk Street to Beth Hamedrash Hagadol, the shell of the oldest Russian, orthodox congregation in the US. This was the synagogue that first caught my attention back in November and which I’d thought about recently while wondering how much of the neighborhood SUPRA would touch. It turns out that in addition to the building in which the Conservancy’s visitor center is located, SPURA will come right up against the old Norfolk Street Shul. Hopefully the visitor center will find a new home within Essex Crossing, but there’s no doubt the development is going to change the neighborhood. I find it amusing or amazing, not honestly sure which, that both SPURA and the Second Avenue Subway are finally happening.
Our next and final stop was Kehila Kedosha Janina, the only remaining congregation of Romaniote Jews in the Western Hemisphere. Another amazing interior, and the women’s section doubles as a museum. This was one of the many landmarked places we saw/visited on the tour that it’s going to be interesting to see how the landmarks of the old neighborhood hit among the new SPURA buildings. I found the Museum Director’s explanation that they’re “less neurotically Orthodox” an interesting one. If not for the gorgeous torah scrolls I’m not sure I’d have realized this was an orthodox shul.
With Bialystoker today, Eldridge St. many times over and Stanton St. and Angel Orensanz last November, I think I’ve hit all the iconic synagogues of the Lower East Side. I’ve also seen some of the amazing uptown architecture, but alas I haven’t been in any. I’m especially glad that I was able to visit Angel Orensanz as it is currently closed due to structural issues and there is no timeline for when/if it will reopen.
All in all, another amazing day on the Lower East Side.
I argued with myself about attending tonight’s industry preview of the 9/11 Museum, which opens to the public on Wednesday. I nearly didn’t walk through the door and probably would not have if I hadn’t been engaged and talking to a colleague as we approached. But I went, and I’m glad.
As I said briefly on Facebook. I think we have a responsibility to go. I said to a colleague on site, “if it took 13 years to get it right, I’m glad it took 13 years.” This was not something that could be rushed. 9/11 changed the world and the museum needed to reflect that. And I think they beyond nailed it. Perhaps the most poignant thing about today was that the Plaza/Memorial is no longer fenced in. You can cross it to enter the museum, visit the Pools, etc. It is truly public space again.
9/11 is odd to me. I had moved to Osaka three weeks prior and followed 9/11 though a very time shifted and distant lens. I am forever grateful that I wrote that up because my initial reactions to the 9/11 Memorial are lost to time. That’s why I’m writing this now.
While the tridents are meant to be the museum’s icons, it was the Last Column and the controversial Virgil quote that repeatedly hit me today. The museum’s own posts about the Last Column say more than I can about the symbol of our city’s resiliency. The Virgil quote has been an issue for three years but it recently bubbled up again due to the context. I was aware of the controversy and the context, but seeing it in the atrium today was no less powerful. And I wasn’t even aware on site that it was the “guardian” to the museum’s tomb of the unknowns.
I did not read the captions today. I can’t. I wasn’t ready to see 9/11 as a museum. It’s still living history to me. One day I will go back, see the exhibits, and read captions
Today was about stepping foot on a plaza I hadn’t since at least August 2001 that is now hallowed ground.
So I realized something sad when I started to read Jeneration X, Jen Lancaster’s 2012 “chapter” of her non-fiction series: I think I’ve outgrown it. This is equal parts sad and odd because a) I used to love her non fiction titles and b) I’m at least a decade younger than she is. At some point between My Fair Lazy and the latest chapter in her “I’m a fancy author and now so is my friend Stacey and I have to remind you every other page”, I got bored.Also sad, it look me four weeks to get through this book, only the sixth one I’ve finished this year. I am so off pace it is sad. I think the biggest issue with this one was a lack of filter or editor. Seriously, a book shouldn’t read like a blog, and there’s a reason I don’t read her blog.That said, there were some funnies in this book as well as some things I identified with — unfortunately they were somewhat drowned out by her egotism. Midway through the book when talking about eBay she identified herself as “hypercompetitive asshole”. At least she knows her shortcomings.Note to self: read the Amazon reviews before buying. A good number of them nailed exactly what I was thinking.
Those of us born between 1965 and 1980 had none of the benefits of the generations that came before or after us. We know nothing of the kinder, simpler America from the Camelot days, nor were we born with an innate understanding of how to operate Microsoft Windows. Today, we’re a beeper generation in a smartphone world. Watching this generation operate makes me very glad that people my age understand that tools like technology and social media are a means to an end and not the end itself. My generation didn’t play soccer so we know that when the game is over not everyone gets a trophy. Yet here we are, trapped in middle management between two massive cases of generational arrested development.So that’s what those of us in Generation X have done to define ourselves. We’ve become the only adults in a world full of children. I mean, if I could finally grow up? Anyone can.
In hind sight, that’s probably where I should have quit reading. Although I may or may not be Gen X depending on who is drawing the boundaries, I’m definitely closer to Gen Y/Millennial than her broad strokes.
“I don’t do shots anymore because I hate how they make me feel in the morning. Coincidentally, this is also why I no longer eat Lucky Charms for dinner. Much as I enjoyed both acts, I haven’t the liver or the stomach of a college kid anymore.”
Attempt to open the boxes of shipped items with a tablespoon. [Hey, it was the most handy pointy thing.]
I admit – this is me, to a T. Although it was Fruit Loops and not Lucky Charms, which are gross.
They walk through the gates at Auschwitz. They take the boats to the USS Arizona in Pearl Harbor. They hike through battlefields and slave auction sites.” ~ Katia Hetter
First off, Charleston and Savannah are amazing. AMAZING. I am a history nerd and I fell in love with Charleston the first afternoon that we spent walking around. More on that and pictures soon.
However, there were moments that gave me serious pause as we began to plan the trip. The following were often recommended: Charleston’s Old Slave Market, Boone Hall Plantation, Drayton Hall, Magnolia Plantation. All with a dark history. Part of me thought I was over thinking it, until my brother mentioned the same thing while at Boone Hall.
While plantation life wasn’t on the scale of The Holocaust (where I also struggled with the idea of the camps as tourist destinations), it wasn’t rosy either. I especially took issue with one of the Boone Hall guides who made light of the fact that the slaves’ grave markers were gone. It didn’t seem to be something you should laugh about.
I’m still thinking about this three days later and decided to look into slavery and dark/memorial tourism. And I admit, this is where my tourism nerd side came in.
“When memories of the actual events fade, many people still come to memorials looking for answers as to why an awful thing could happen: How could Adolf Hitler have perpetrated the Holocaust? Why did Cambodia’s Khmer Rouge murder its people? Why did Japan attack the United States at Pearl Harbor? It’s a balancing act for memorial sites: How to teach the cruel facts of tragedy to an audience that is often on vacation.” ~Katia Hetter
The Camps bothered me. Hiroshima and Nagasaki bothered me. Pearl Harbor didn’t, for whatever reason. Nor do battlefields (or Ft. Sumter on this recent trip). But the Plantation? That bothered me.
“Thanatourism” is apparently the buzz word, but I prefer dark tourism. I think thanatourism hides it too much. It should be uncomfortable. It should make you think. Slave tourism is also apparently known as roots tourism.
As a history person, I think memorials are key. Not as much for those who lived through it (my generation doesn’t need “Never Forget” not to forget 9/11), but for those who didn’t witness it. They’re key to education. But being excited to visit it? That’s harder, yet I was eager to visit Boone Hall. Until seeing the “Slave Street” hit me.
The Institute for Dark Tourism Research is clearly an idea whose time has come. In Europe alone, tourist meccas are dark sites. Sadly, death is part of our heritage. Slavery is a huge part of both African and American history, and the slave castles in West Africa are experiencing growth. Is this good or bad?
In truth? I don’t know. But it’s definitely food for thought. And I have some more homework to do.
Destination Dixie, by Karen Cox, including a chapter called ““Is It Okay to Talk about Slaves?” Segregating the Past in Historic Charleston”