A Man on the Street

This will be a quick post; after all, I didn't know where I was going to go when I decided yesterday to take a walk down E. 10th Street from Avenue A and Tompkins Square. I'm a friendly sort of guy.

"Hello! How are you?" I asked the man sitting in the chair, in front of the Chinese Laundry, right across the street from the Boys Club. It was Philip C. LaLumia, 84, Co-Chairman of the A-1 East Tenth Street Block Association. He was born on E. 13th Street, across the street from 509, where Lucky Luciano lived. Oh, boy, this could be a long chat ....

But I did see Sal Anthony walk by - "Hi Sal," Philip said. "He got out of the restaurant," on Irving Place; some of you may remember it, "but the next fellow can't get his restaurant going because he now has to put all sorts of legal improvements into it, like handicapped accessible, bathrooms and everything. Too expensive." Philip has a lot of that knowledge. "Sal was grandfathered, so when that law was enacted he didn't have to do that."

You see, it's this kind of stuff you'll learn about from the "man sitting there, over there," on virtually any street. After all, Philip worked at the Boys Club for over 40 years:

"And the chairman of the board then " - all I remember is that it's not now - "squandered all that money on a basketball court at that wonderful wilderness camp the Club had in Jersey; he had it made so good, he had bleachers put up - and the town then said he had to "by law" put a parking lot in - and it all went the - "

There may be more ... but, I now know Philip - A.K.A. Philippo - who's "always there, they set out the chair for me, for my lunch - it's even delivered -" and I'll see him again ... I'm sure there are more installments to come!

Just Listening In, and then ...

Yes, I was at one of my favorite coffee shops after a great tour on Wednesday last, after taking a group of four Englishwomen on a general tour of Manhattan by car, when I sat outside on the bench at Mud. I had had a nice lunch at Kenn's Broome Street Bar, thanks to my generous travelers, and afterwards it felt right to take a walk. To have my, ah, ambulatory digestif.

I walked up and over and found myself near E. 9th Street, so I walked into Mud and asked for some.

Mud

With their large cup I walked out again, and sat myself down on one of the two benches, which were empty, facing west toward the sun, and relaxed. Ahh, feeling very good. Good coffee too.

A young lady in black, wearing glasses, came out with her coffee and sat down across from me. I was paying no attention. Watching people pass. Thinking about the morrow. Computing bills to be paid.

"Can you make 3:30?"

My ears perked up.

"Then I will be there."

I asked my cross-bench companion, "What do you do when people have to change their appointments again and again?" I was really curious, because just the day before someone had been making and breaking appointments with me, and I was getting a little worried.

"Oh, it's always different. This one said he was with his friends - he had a two o'clock appointment but called just at 5 of as I was coming down his street to tell me he was with friends, could he reschedule. Well, so I said yes. I had a window of time, so there he had it."

"That's a little tight! What do you do?"

"I'm a professional dominatrix."

"Excuse me?" I didn't hear her, you see. She repeated.

We talked some more.

"And even you have a hard time controlling your clients," I said. The mind boggles.

I should have known ...

The Walk to Tenafly - Part Two

Thanks for holding on there folks - I knew I would get back to telling you the tale to Tenafly in more detail. So, thanks for your patience.

You must realize: it's only a 25 minute walk across the George Washington Bridge, even with stopping to take a few pictures. And what's that? Oh, maybe a 20 block walk downtown; a walk across Central Park and down to the Metropolitan Museum, perhaps. It's not far, people, you can do it!

And once you have - well, after you've walk down a little, and under the highway and up a flight of steps, you're at the doorway (to adventure!):
Yes, the gateway to a new world - or the escape-way from your old, familiar one! Let's take just a few steps up.

Hmm. A sign: we're going on to the Long Path, eh? Carpenter's Trail ... Allison Park (that looks interesting), and Dyckman Hill Trail - wait! Is that the same Dyckman we know from uptown? From the Farm House at 204th and Broadway?

In fact, that's at least one of the places where the ferry from Dyckman Street would land in New Jersey. I wonder if we'll ever get that again? Because I know there used to be a ferry from over in Jersey that one of my childhood neighbors, when she was a student at Barnard in the 20's, used to take the ferry from her over to 125th Street and walk up the hill of Broadway to class. Ahh, yes, those were the days my friends ....

But I don't think I'll be going all the way to the Dyckman Hill Trail. But Allison Park, yes. We shall see that. So, I walk a bit to the left and, ahh...
This is why I came across the bridge! I'll take that path!

And it was true that at that time I didn't really care where it went! I could walk it, and easily. Such fun.

Just to stroll down with a purposeful stride. As if I knew where I was going - because that wasn't important! I was out and about, and I was on my way.




I knew there were to be some fantastic views ahead, and maybe even some more adventurers out to see the sights of late autumn over the river. But first I had to look back, as I got closer to the edge of the Palisades -
I've come all that way - and farther, it seems.

I spot a family by a lookout, and one who was new to the site. Very closeby was a fork in the path. "Where do we go Dad?" one of the boys asked. "Hmm..." he murmered. My cue: "Take the left path. It goes along the top - and there are restrooms not far!"

Oh, such an authority, I am I am! They exclaimed "Yay!" as I continued my walk.

Well! Who was here? Who have we to imagine lost these - eyes?! No, earrings. They looked rather nice - but I certainly left them there to startle the group now following me - I wonder if they left them there? I hope so, unless they knew who lost them - which I doubt.

The wonders of the woods: "Whose woods are these? I think I know," but he lives in the village below?

Onward!


A bridge! And not the George - such a change. This path is seeming to get somewhere ....

I cross a running brook, although I didn't see any frogs at first glance. Actually, come to think of it, I was so unlike myself when I was a kid growing up. I didn't stop to search for any wildlife! Hmm. Next time ....




This path seems to be arriving somewhere - and yes, this is Allison Park.

So, naturally, and you know me by now, I wonder who is Allison? As the website for the Palisades Park Conservancy informed me:

"William O. Allison (1849-1924), [...] had an estate at this location. Allison had been born in the "Undercliff" settlements, the son of fishermen and quarry workers. As a child he was made a ward of the Dana family, who owned a large estate on top of the cliffs. He succeeded in business and became one of the largest land owners along the Palisades, and was the principal owner of the Palisades Mountain House, also at this site, until it burned down in 1884."

What was the Palisades Mountain House? I had never heard of it:

And you could drive your rig along the Hudson River on the Hudson River Drive from Edgewater to Fort Lee, and up to the top of the cliffs and to the hotel. Many people did - even Calvert Vaux, one half of the team that designed Central Park, in the summer of 1880.

But today, all we have is Allison Park ... and the remnants of a few foundation elements ... and maybe this?
I have to check this out ....







Many of you have probably driven on Route 9W many times, passing all those spandexed bicyclists in the technicolor crouch of their preferred exercise, and maybe you've seen all the woods and wondered what may lie behind those trees.

I walk on to discover just what's around that corner. A nice stone cabin, filled with building
supplies, but with a wonderful view. I can't help but imagine the wonderful afternoon spend sipping wine and talking with close friends. All quiet, secluded, on the cliff and behind the trees. So close, and so far away.


I fear I'm ending my woods walk soon, but I go out into the clearing of the park - of Allison Park, to catch one of the great views of the river.
The great George Washington Bridge, over a mile away, as I walk on the Palisades, near where the great Palisades Mountain House stood until that terrible fire in 1884.

But now I seem to be heading out, and indeed there's a sign - and I think I'm on - oh no! - I'm on my way to the road!





And down at the end of the road is St. Peter's College, which will not be covered on this blog, at least in these installments - but I'm at the end of my sylvan wanderings - and due to walk for a short street on Sylvan Avenue, also known as Route 9W, into Englewood Cliffs, Englewood, and finally Tenafly. The Next Installment!

The Walk to Tenafly - Part One

It was early, maybe, but the weather was bright, clear and cool - alright, chilly - as I stepped out of the George Washington Bridge Bus Terminal onto Fort Washington Avenue. Today I’m walking to Tenafly. The suburbs are going to be close, and not so “car far” that we can’t make a day’s walk more interesting and enlightening, even.






So, now you know the hours - but I got there at 8:30AM, a little late by my schedule. We shall see what pace I can keep up.

I had originally intended to take the Northwalk (as they call it) but that one was closed; I don’t know why, but no matter. It turned out I wasn’t alone - but I couldn’t get my camera out in time - whoosh! a whole fleet of bicycles passed me by!

I was amazed, actually, to be able to have an unobstructed view off the bridge. There was no high barrier at all, and considering the recent tragedy of the young man who jumped that was especially unnerving. But it didn’t bother anyone else, I guess.

Away in the distance is a group of speeding bicyclists too fast for me to catch for you, but I just had to enjoy the morning on the bridge - and get the pictures when I could. After all -

I could look over the Henry Hudson Parkway and the River toward New Jersey.

Jersey City is the city in the morning mist

I am planning to make this walk a public tour for those with an interest in understanding the growth of New York, and the establishment of its suburbs. After all, I grew up in Tenafly and biked all around when I was a kid there. Never really knew where I was, but, as they say, I never got lost.

People would stop me on the road and ask where route 501 was, or something like that, and I really had no idea! Maybe I knew that that was County Road, but that didn’t matter to me either. I just knew that was a way to go and that you’d find something down “that way.” My friends Scott and Bob would call, and we would all agree that we’d go for a “bike hike” and be off for the afternoon. We’d always be back home at about 5 or six; we never called to tell our Moms where we were, or if we’d be late. We never were.

We never even told them where we were going. We were, well, just going out. And that was that.

It is amazing how we’re all - or at least many or most of us - attached to our cell phones, our GPS, our umbilicals to Central, so to speak. How did we live back then?

So, Saturday I set out to see if I could, at least in part, recover that old spirit.

I reached the Fort Lee side.

I think that’s where the actual Fort was ... I'll have to go there, some time soon.

But first ... !

A Walk Almost Around the Island of Manhattan!

Yes, we started out on Saturday morning, October 23rd at 8:45, right near Gracie Mansion, and took to the river path northward - on the Bobby Wagner Walk. This walk was at the request of Jim Wacht, who was inspired by a recent walk and an article in the New York Times - but he didn't just want to set out on his own - strolling aimlessly!

So, he enlisted my professional and experienced services for something that is more than just a casual walk in the park. He didn't want to lose himself in the wilds of a city he hadn't seen - even though he'd biked around it numerous times.

Jim sent out e-mails alerting his friends to this great event, and urged them to join in the fun. Ultimately, there were 8 and myself - oh, and Cooper the dog! (And I should have taken a picture of that cute thing, because at first I wasn't sure a dog would do the distance, or not be a hindrance, but no problem!)

We first walked up along the East River - and it's a nice walk:

Walking toward High Bridge

But this area didn't always look like this. No way! Check this photo:

The Harlem River, looking south to the Washington and High Bridges circa 1890

Soon, however, on July 3, 1898, in fact, this way was opened as a special drive. No, not the FDR Drive, of course. But, can you imagine this: the city perceived a need by the wealthy for a race course for their personal horses (and some of these individuals had many of them) so tax-payer money - more than a million dollars in the 1890s - was spent to make this playground for them.

The Speedway was a tremendous engineering feat - for the amusement of the "upper class."

But, there was a great formal opening of the Harlem River Speedway. Once we got past the inconveniences of 125th St., 135th St., and were able to get back to the river again, the going was easy. We did remark, however, that it was surprising how un-busy the East River is - at least on Saturday morning. But after the Speedway was opened -

The members of the sporting set flock to the Speedway to see the races! Fort George Hill is in the background. (From an undated postcard - colorized)

Well, by the time we had walked all the way up - I realized we had missed what would have been the real river traffic: the crews, rowing on the river! I had visited the Peter Jay Sharp Boathouse earlier in the week, and a young lady there told me that indeed this Saturday would be the busiest day of the week. But, maybe she meant that the rowers are early risers! We missed them. But, look at the gates. Quite an effect. And, of all people, the boathouse was designed by no other than Robert A. M. Stern Architects. Stern himself, while now the Dean of the Yale School of Architecture, was previously Professor of Architecture and Director of the Historic Preservation Program at the Graduate School of Architecture, Planning, and Preservation at Columbia University. (Is it significant that this isn't Columbia's boathouse, but one that's shared by Manhattan College, NYU, Fordham, and the New York RowingAssociation? Probably not.) But it's so refreshing to see such developments happening up around Dyckman Street - where hardly anyone ever ventures.

Look at this marvelous, floating boathouse:

The Peter Jay Sharp Boathouse

So, perhaps the "high-flyers" of the 21st Century aren't equestrians, and are boaters instead. After all, it's much better for one's health - and is much cheaper than keeping horses!

Right next to the boathouse are we discovered Swindlers Cove - and another fruit, so to speak, of the New York Restoration Project (NYRP), founded by Bette Midler. We found a glorious little park:

Hmm. What have we here? Quite a lot, actually!

It is really a small park, but it does do wonders to relax and reinvigorate a walker on a trek.

- and there is a restroom there too, as well as many very comfortable places to rest and ponder where to go next.

And so we rested!

We are almost ready to really rest: to have lunch. But we must do what we have to do - tweet:

We actually had followers in cyberspace - cheering us on in our marathon quest to circumambulate the island! So, Meryl, Jim's wife and a travel writer herself, kept all apprised on our discoveries and progress toward our ultimate goal.

We had just come down the hill (in the background) from the railroad tracks, after lunch at the Indian Road Cafe, and were marveling at the Little Red Lighthouse.

Next Stop: Watch for my next installment!

October 9, 2010 - On John Lennon's Birthday

Rowboats on the lake - hundreds on the Bethesda Terrace; but I'm ... in the woods?

Yes, everybody in New York was out this past weekend - and more than that was in the Central Park. Where does everyone come from? It seems, however, that there are still places ....

... where a little privacy can be found. Not that I was looking to butt in; I walked on and away.

Yet, it was lovely to see so many out, in the park, and on the water - in the largest city in North America.

And, on John Lennon's birthday: "Imagine all the people living life in peace."

That evening, at Summer Stage in Rumsey Field, the park screened a new documentary "LennonNYC" which all of us can see on PBS on November 22. We can then see how the city energized him, we're told - maybe as we all can be too?

It's autumn! Go out - walk - see what is new!

And I did that day myself - just by walking around the corner of E. 71st St., from Park Avenue, onto Madison as I was heading to the park ... but wow! What did I see?

It's the new Ralph Lauren store for Home and Women - where his Polo store was, remember? It officially opens this Friday, October 15, I believe. Might be worth a visit!

I have drawn a strong contrasting image, but this is New York, and I think it's all about beauty and energy - and don't forget, when people really live together, really are together .... Well, imagine ....!