The last night before gentrification: The 77' NYC Blackout

I remember my aunt (who will undoubtedly toss some cents at this post) telling us it was a blackout. 

My grandmother or maybe my mom, was skeptical. On this mid July day 40 years ago I was a tiny child and the day was still brightly lit at something passed 7:30 PM or probably later based on what came next.

Also the TV was on. Contradictory to any "Blackout" talk the house offered, Roger Grimsby a name who bore a a news man on Channel 7 to fit it, joylessly told the news of the day, and I'm certain (due to my strange memory) he was talking about power outages. The household debate between a girl, her adult sister and their mom raged on, loudly.

I'm pretty sure my mother pointed out to her youngest sister that the TV was still on. My Aunt, then a young teenager was frustrated and in full "nobody listens to me" mode.

Perfectly, during the conversation involving the TV, Roger Grimsby and the electricity in our building went out.

"SEE!!!" came rising from you-know-who.

We lived on the 12th floor. A rarity for a non-housing project non-luxury building in Brooklyn. Crown Heights in fact. Fun fact I can see that building from my current kitchen window. The universe circles.

Back 40 years ago, the TV off, the apartment now light by large unblocked city and sky facing windows the conversation finally had a chance to lurch forward. "What is happening" "How much" "How long" started new branches of conversation each digging into the topics and planting new roots.

My memory, and I trust it because at that age I'd seen nothing like this before or since in real life, tells me that before the TV went out, part of my mom and grandmother's argument, against "blackout" was that the city's skyline was lit up as the sky became twilight, that strange time when man-made light and sun we're both present and visible, windows making a mosaic of clear parallelograms each inlaid on rectangles themselves.

The memory I'm slowly baking to is seeing sections of the city in order from uptown to down, begin to go lightless. It looked like at least ten blocks at a time, switching off, orderly, a simple procession. That, as I recall was what got the debate stopped. I feel like my mother had pointed out that the city had lights "SEE!" and she pointed. And then the illumination of the dominions began to fall, and made way through the isle of olde Dutch robbery.

When all Manhattan was out, we all turned our heads or bodies, expectantly to the TV, where Roger, still without joy or even astonishment, continued speaking to us. It seemed to take a small pause in time for him to finally get the news and then in a flash, he the tv, our dining area lights, all gone.

It seemed to be connected says my memory, that within 1 minute there was a screech of tires and then a scream, from the intersection of Park Pl. and Classon Ave, 12 stories (and more) below.

We ran to our terrace (another rarity in Brooklyn then and now) and looked below to intersection:

Darkness punctuated by long swords of car headlights was most easily seen. At street level, people argued, glass broke, people ran. For light, for their lives. From their fears, and back then unlike now, many of those fears was likely.

Ironically in 2017 you could say it was lit, and yet the opposite.

When the dark was full, we lit candles, cautiously opened the apartment door to the knocks we heard in the hall. It wasn't risky, the building was full of doctors, nurses and the administrative staff whom all worked for the Brooklyn Jewish Hospital (now apartments! #gentrification) Our neighbors came around with flashlights, checking on everyone.

We stayed in that night, of course. The elevators didn't work, and who wants to take the stairs to a perceived and darken hell.

We could hear yelling, occasional screams, and car horns intermittently all night. It was probably the most chaos I ever or have since heard, but it didn't seem that much crazier than 1977 NYC to my tiny ears, just more consistent and without ebb. The sounds lasted until we finally fell asleep. At least I did.

During the 25+ hour long blackout, parts of Brooklyn burned; Especially, in Bushwick and along it's border with Bedford-Stuyvesant (back when Bushwick was still able to reach north west toward Marcy Av. Many apartments went up and many more small businesses were abandoned by small business owners, and later by insurance companies and bank loan officers. 

Some areas were not to return to prosperity until the plans drawn up in the weeks and years that followed that night, were set in motion.

#NYCBlackout

Despite Us Being American: after Michael Brown Jr. & too many more

Eric Garner's murder saddened me as it has many. As a person of color, as a person who has men that resemble Eric in my family. As a tax payer and American, his murder brought me so much sadness it took two weeks for me to write what I thought was a concise and useful post about it.

Then Micheal Brown Jr. an unarmed 18year old was killed in Ferguson, MO. by a police officer, shot six times, dead. It's been a week of me mostly avoiding that story for a variety of reasons.

Finally I wrote this, and my point if you want a headline, is it's not simply the shooting, the death, the tragedy of how people are viewed that has and continues to disturb me, it's that when these tragedies occur, the aftermath says as much about how people of color are considered in America if not more than the entire situation.

--


"Despite Us Being American"

He said "I will fight for your right to protest" and I could feel the tears forming.

I don't know why I chose finally watching Ferguson/Michael Brown Murder news reports to be tonight's insomnia activity.

One of the clips I saw was Capt. Ron Johnson the solidly build African-American head of the Missouri State Highway Patrol, who was shoehorned into this situation and seems to have been elected for his ability to sit exactly between a rock (the historically disenfranchised community of African-Americans) and the hard place(the Police in Ferguson who as a group have largely deflected the law).

Capt. Johnson started with an apology to Michael Brown's family, speaking in uniform as a member of law enforcement in that state. But you know got me, what gave me pause?

When Capt. Johnson said to the parishioners ,"I'll protect your right to protest" my eyes watered up. I had to stop watching and wonder if I was just going to start bawling flat out.

If you haven't watched all these black people, not just in the last two months, or two years but since lets just say the last twenty or thirty years, watching all these black and brown people, (Oscar Grant, Patrick Dorismond, Timothy Stansbury Jr., Anthony Baez, Amadou Diallo, Eric Garner) many of whom haven't committed a crime, several who committed misdemeanors or were caught in situations where they didn't know they were interacting with police, be killed by law enforcement. If you haven't witnessed that through the life of a black, brown or some other variation of "Other" person, then in some ways frankly you're lucky.

Lucky to know you're a citizen of a country that can't get enough talking about Freedom and almost always feels an obligation to protect yours. Do you who are not visually "other" have to interact with assholes despite being an American? Of course. Do you wonder if the government is not trying to take advantage or misuse your tax dollars, despite your not being an "other" american? Yes of course. There's lots of concerns. But usually law enforcement doesn't target you. If someone in law enforcement does target you, you have options, you can seek and expect justice, mistreatment of you will most always only go so far.

That's what hurts. The cop who shot a kid he'd probably never met ten minutes earlier is all kinds of idiot. But the entire police force felt it justifiable to back that idiot. That's a big part of being "other" usually Black as in this case and most cases. The police backed the murder, the victim was Black.That's the full on injustice. It's the same damned injustice. Even with a deep tan in the white house. The injustice starts with the precept that an unarmed, (very possibly innocent) brown skinned male is deserving of gun violence. It's an idea promoted across american society and embraced by law enforcement. Then the injustice continues when the officer of the law kills that black male without (we now know) knowing anything about this male. Then the injustice reaches full voice in the chorus of systematic American racism, when those in charge of the Ferguson Police force decide to back the murder. It starts with a racial history and the ideas that come out of it. But to understand the crime, for friends of those who don't, understand a police officer made very bad decisions, over reacted, killed a person he knew nothing about, and then the Police force decided to do everything it could including leaking false information in public media, to protect the murder.

That's what happened.

When the Highway Patrol officer told the congregation "I'll protect your right to protest" they erupted in cheers. CHEERS. Capt, Ron Johnson didn't promise to get justice (he can't alone) he didn't promise to hunt down the murderer (who's not been charged and was allowed to leave the state) he didn't promise to end racism and bias. He said he'll defend the crowd's American rights, and the people cheered. If you’re anything people refer to as “Black” you know this already. You’ve lived this, near and from afar but always as a member of the group not able to get equal treatment under our law. If you aren’t what people call "Black", or married, parented, bonded, brothered and sistered in some authentic way to someone considered as Black, I’m laying this out for you. The crowd cheered, at a member of law enforcement who resembles us, saying that he’ll simply do his job so we could simply have our right to say we’re terribly sad and upset, without us having to fear those we pay to protect us.

Because that's not something we're used to from American police forces, despite us being American.

Photo Wednesday 060513 | Memorial & Rose Night Edition

As a kid I noticed these one day when I decided to read them instead of passing them as I had hundreds of times previously. It was shocking to me that they had been laid decades ago, and in brought up a cheesy yet civic-prideful sense of happiness in my elementary school self. So today's Photo(s) for Wednesday come from Eastern Parkway.

The plaques were created and dedicated for Brooklyn residents who perished in "The War to End All Wars". Many of America's WWI soldiers were laid to rest overseas and so memorials like these were dedicated across the nation. Down the western end near the Museum new benches, widened sidewalks and a bike-lane have been added. Parking signs were reposted today. Included and repositioned are the World War I memorial placards. 

Over the years tree root growth, erosion and occasional vandalism have disturbed the placards and I'm happy to see there refurbishing was part of the Eastern Parkway makeover. Each placard is aligned next to a tree as they were originally. A subtle memorial as was originally intended.

Eastern Parkway the nation's 1st parkway built in 1866 expressly for "pleasure-riding and scenic driving" by Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux has been undergoing successful remodeling and refurbishing for years now and it's looking great. 

From wikipedia's Eastern Parkway Entry:

The world's first parkway was conceived by Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux in 1866. The term parkway was coined by these designers as a landscaped road built expressly for 'pleasure-riding and driving' or scenic access to Prospect Park (also designed by Olmsted and Vaux). To these ends, commerce was restricted. The parkway was constructed from Grand Army Plaza to Ralph Avenue (the boundary of the City of Brooklyn) between 1870 and 1874. Olmsted and Vaux intended Eastern Parkway to be the Brooklyn nucleus of an interconnected park and parkway system for the New York area. The plan was never completed but their idea of bringing the countryside into the city influenced the construction of major parks and parkways in cities throughout the United States.^[4]

Speaking of trees and thoughts of days past in the vicinity of Eastern Parkway; Tonight is the Brooklyn Botanic(al) Garden's Member's Rose Night, were attending members will be treated to music in celebration of the era in which the Cranford Rose Garden opened in 1927.

From the Garden's website:

Enjoy live ragtime and jazz with Dewdrop Society. Don your best bonnet to participate in our second annual hat contest—kids can make their own at our specially equipped craft table. Picnicking is permitted and a cash bar will be available.

I'll be the one in the top-hat. Be a member enjoy the Garden. Cheers! 

Fort Greene Park History Open to the Public, Bring the Kids!

Remember when the week was sunny and lovely? That all ended Wednesday. I ran the bike through some errands and came upon Fort Greene Park.

Fort Greene Park in addition to being Brooklyn's first official park & one of the larger islands of nature in the city, is a historical landmark. If you've lived in or around Brooklyn long enough you likely know something of that history. Between the Sailor's & Soldier Martyrs crypt, it's location in an historic neighborhood, it's monumental tower, once again lit each night Fort Greene Park history is hard to miss.

The first time I rode to the top I was about 17 and the city emerged upward as I climbed the park's summit. It was a cinematic reveal. This past Wednesday's sky was full of blue and warm with light, I wanted to experience the city that way, as a wide vista. The metal, glass and panorama of the city is different now but the view didn't disappoint.

What has been easy to overlook for me at least is a structure at the top of the park less monumental but vital and packed with historical artifacts. It's the comfort station, that has become the Fort Greene Park Visitor's Center. Before making off to the next errand it dawned on me nature was calling and the public restrooms in the Visitor's Center were the reason I was there.

The Visitors Center a neoclassical structure that was built in 1908 with the Monument. I'm embarrassed to say I only know it as the best free bathroom in Fort Greene. But to get to the bathrooms you need to enter and pass through the Visitor's Center and then Wednesday for the first time I really looked around and found over 200 years of history just waiting for me to notice it.

American Revolutionary period flags hang prominently from the ceiling.

Muskets and their small metal ammo are in cases around the park house, and very interesting is that many of the artifacts like the musket rounds were found in the park some as recently as in 2005.


This canon was used by the British Army during revolutionary times.

 
 The map above shows the 1873 park layout along side today's layout.

I gained all this knowledge from the Parks Department workers who were friendly hosts and happy to share the park's history. Even going so far as to show me the park turtle (he's been under the weather) and the pelt of a squirrel.
 
I won't lie, I thought the squirrel hide was gross, but interesting in that once upon a time in this very city that hide would be a form of currency.

Do yourself, a favor and stop on by the Fort Greene Visitor's Center it'd add to your perspective and possibly an even greater appreciation of Brooklyn.

For more information on Fort Greene Park and it's year long schedule of events check the Fort Greene Park Conservancy's website at http://www.fortgreenepark.org/