Happy Thanksgiving

The first Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade was held in 1924 with a parade of store employees and live zoo animals. Balloons were introduced to the parade in 1927. Here is a selection of photos taken by former staff member Ryan Rahman of the 2016 parade.

Have a happy and safe Thanksgiving!

Charlie, Kit and C.J., Macy’s Holiday Elves

Angry Birds’ Red

Pikachu from Pokémon

Eruptor from Skylanders

SpongeBob SquarePants

Thomas the Tank Engine

Wiggleworm

The National Museum of the American Indian 

On April 12, 1988, New York City Mayor Edward Koch issued a press release announcing plans for the Museum of the American Indian to relocate its exhibition space from Audubon Terrace in upper Manhattan to the U.S. Custom House at Bowling Green in lower Manhattan.   

Brochure, Museum of the American Indian, n.d. NYC Municipal Library.

The press release followed more than a decade of competing proposals and schemes to save the faltering museum. Although the final agreement transferred a significant portion of the holdings to a new National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, D.C., under the aegis of the Smithsonian, it gave the collection a significant presence in New York as a branch of the new Museum, formally known as the George Gustav Heye Center.

In recognition of Native American Heritage Month, For the Record looks at resources in the Municipal Archives and Municipal Library that tell the story of how Mayor Koch and other leaders kept an important cultural institution in the City.

George Gustav Heye, an engineer and financier, founded the Museum in 1916 to house objects he collected representing all the native peoples of the Americas. Also known as the Heye Foundation, the Museum of the American Indian (MAI) opened in 1922 on Audubon Terrace and West 155th Street in Harlem.

From the beginning, its distance from other cultural institutions in Manhattan curtailed attendance. Furthermore, the Audubon Terrace building was insufficient to display the holdings—less than one percent of the collection, according to some estimates. The bulk of the material was housed in a storage building in the Pelham Bay section of the Bronx.

By the 1970s, the MAI problems became critical. According to a clipping from the Daily News in the Municipal Library’s vertical file, dated February 16, 1975, the Museum “had been operating in the red since 1970.” The article quoted Museum Director Frederick Dockstader: “. . . unless the institution gets more space and more local support soon, it will probably leave.” Dockstader added: “When I first came to New York in 1960, I never realized how provincial New Yorkers really were. They live within a 20-block area and seldom venture beyond in search of cultural enlightenment.”

Museum of the American Indian, Audubon Terrace and West 155th Street, ca. 1940. Tax Photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

By the mid-1980s, suffering further declines in attendance, the Museum took action on their plan to move from Audubon Terrace. To document this chapter in the saga, researchers can turn to the records of Mayor Edward Koch (1978-1989). Most mayoral record collections are arranged in three series: subject files, departmental correspondence, and general correspondence. However, there are variations unique to individual mayors. For example, Mayor LaGuardia filed his correspondence with federal officials as a separate series. Mayor Lindsay’s collection includes “confidential” subject files maintained as a separate series. Clerks filing Mayor Koch’s records merged his departmental correspondence and subject files into one series. Another unique feature of the Koch material, of great benefit to historians, is a subject and name index created by the archivists who processed his correspondence.

Searching the Koch inventory for references to the MAI resulted in five citations between 1985 and 1989. The first item is a New York Times article dated July 4, 1985, forwarded to Koch. Headlined “Indian Museum Shelves Negotiations with Perot,” the article quoted MAI officials saying they had suspended negotiations with H. Ross Perot, the Dallas computer executive seeking to relocate the museum to Texas. Instead they proposed to merge the museum with the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH) in New York City. 

In October 1985, Robert J. Vanni, Counsel at the Department of Cultural Affairs prepared and submitted a detailed report to Mayor Koch on the status of the MAI. In the “Historical Background” section of his report, Vanni pointed out that New York State Attorney General Louis Lefkowitz had brought a suit against the Museum board in 1975 for mismanagement. Under a consent decree the board was dissolved and the museum placed under direction of the Attorney General’s office. Vanni also described the proposed merger with the AMNH. Despite a pledge of $13 million from the City and State to underwrite construction of an addition to the AMNH along Central Park West, the MAI Board eventually rejected the idea, saying it would “terminate” their independence and would not provide sufficient space for the holdings. Vanni also reported on an alternative proposal that had been floated by New York Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan that would re-locate the Museum to the U.S. Custom House in Lower Manhattan.

The Library’s vertical files pick up the next phase of the saga. According to several articles in 1986, not all area political leaders supported the move to the Customs House, notably, New York’s other Senator, Alphonse D’Amato. “Absolutely not,” said D’Amato’s assistant Robin Salmon, when asked whether the senator would back to the move to the Custom House, according to a Daily News article dated August 15, 1986.  

Negotiations continued through the next year. On July 17, 1987, the Daily News quoted Senator Moynihan saying that the city’s chance of keeping the MAI here is “slipping away” and urged support for his proposal to move the collection into the Custom House. He added that the Smithsonian Institution “wishes to abscond” to Washington with the “Indian treasure house.”

Two weeks later, reporter Gail Collins, then writing for the Daily News, neatly summarized the situation: “The real fight here is a matter of politics and prestige. Who gets to keep the stuff in the storehouse? Who will be blamed for losing the largest collection of American Indian artifacts in the universe?” (July 31, 1987.) 

U.S. Custom House, Bowling Green, Manhattan, September 1, 1938, photographer: Suydam. WPA Federal Writers’ Project photograph collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

By mid-August 1987, it looked like the matter was settled. The New York Times headlined “Koch Shifts on New Site for Museum; Backs Custom House for Indian Exhibits.” According to the article, Mayor Koch and Senator D’Amato both said they had shifted their positions because of “concern that the museum might leave the city.”

Except, as the article continued, “Senator Daniel K. Inouye, chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Indian Affairs, proposed that the museum be moved to the nation’s capital and become affiliated with the Smithsonian Institution.”

Wrangling over the fate of the MAI and its collections continued into 1988. In January 1988, Mary Schmidt Campbell, the Commissioner of the Department of Cultural Affairs forwarded to Mayor Koch copies of letters she received from a dozen leaders of New York area cultural institutions including the Brooklyn Museum and the Guggenheim, all expressing support for the “Moynihan” plan and asking Senator Inouye to drop his opposition to maintaining the collection in New York.  

Finally, in April 1988, political leaders reached a compromise and Mayor Koch issued his celebratory press release.

Mayor Rudolph Giuliani and guests at the opening of the National Museum of the American Indian, U.S. Custom House, October 27, 1994. Mayor Rudolph Giuliani photograph collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

The most recent clipping in the Municipal Library vertical file concludes the story: “A Heritage Reclaims – From Old Artifacts, American Indians Shape a New Museum.” The New York Times article reported on the opening of the New York branch of the National Museum of the American Indian, on October 30, 1994, at the newly renovated U.S. Custom House. As per terms of the final agreement there are three locations that house the collection: the George Gustav Heye Center in the Custom House, the National Museum of the American Indian on the mall in Washington, D.C., and a research center in Suitland, Maryland.

Look for future For the Record articles that highlight resources in the Municipal Archives and Municipal Library to explore topics related to Native Americans in New York City.

A Spanish-American War Mystery

For Veterans’ Day, we are highlighting an interesting group of glass lantern slides from the Queens Borough President collection. The slides are mostly scenes of soldiers working, relaxing, and playing at an army camp in a rural setting. In our online gallery they are simply listed as “Twenty-four views of mobilization camp or state militia camp, probably in Virginia, before or during Spanish-American War, ca. 1896-1898.” Why these images are in a collection of photographs created by the Queens Borough President Topographic Bureau was a complete mystery.

Soldiers in camp, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Soldiers in camp, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Soldiers in camp, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Soldiers in camp, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Initially, we surmised the images might be from Camp Wikoff, a quarantine camp established in Montauk, Long Island for troops returning from Cuba. As noted in a previous blog, disease, including typhoid, and yellow fever were endemic in Cuba, claiming the lives of more soldiers than died in battle. Concerned about spreading an epidemic in the United States, the army established Camp Wikoff to quarantine troops for several months before mustering out. The photographs of Camp Wikoff available online show a similar arrangement of tents and temporary wooden structures, but the Montauk site was barren, while our slides have a number of large trees in the background. In addition, two slides show troops in a downtown area with brick buildings. In one of these, soldiers pause in front of a pawn shop, behind them soldiers sit on the ledge of a building advertising “Fitzgerald-Photographer” and “S.N. Campbell-Sup’t-The Life Insurance Co. of Virginia.”

Soldiers in front of a pawn shop, possibly in Falls Church, Va., 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

This is where the Virginia reference originated, but what were these images doing in the Queens collection? Looking at the original slides for more information yielded another clue. Glass lantern slides were made by projecting an original glass negative at another piece of glass coated with photographic emulsion. Once developed, the result would be a positive image. To protect the image from dust and fingerprints during projection, the emulsion was sandwiched between another piece of glass, often with a paper mask curved at the top edges. Sometimes these are generic, but in this case, we were lucky as the paper mask was decorative and personalized with the name “Jas. T. Chapman, Flushing, L.I.”

Soldiers blanket tossing at Camp Meade, Pa. 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Here was a Queens connection. But what was James T. Chapman of Flushing doing in Virginia and how did his photographs end up in this collection? Searches on Ancestry and in Queens City directories yielded a James Treadwell Chapman, listed variously as a clerk, or secretary, who died in 1901 of kidney disease. The personalized slide frames suggested a professional photographer or serious amateur, but no photographer by the name of Chapman was listed in the directories. However, as we discussed in a previous blog, camera clubs were very active in New York in the 1880 and ‘90s, and lantern slides were a common way for members to share their work at meetings. Chapman was not listed as a member of the New York Camera Club, but numerous other clubs existed in New York, including the Society of Amateur Photographers. Both clubs had regular “lantern slide test” nights when amateurs could project slides for review, and clubs exchanged slides with clubs in other cities, including those in Europe and Australia. Chapman was probably a sufficiently serious amateur that he had personalized frames made to ensure his slides would be returned to him after such exchanges.

Soldiers from Flushing at Camp Meade, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Another search in the Queens Borough President collection for “Chapman” revealed an additional image, from a small group of prints labeled “Chapman collection.” BPQ_03133-f shows a group of soldiers around an L sign. It is captioned: “Spanish-American War, Soldiers from Flushing at Camp Meade, 1898.”

Camp Meade was established in August 1898, near Middletown, Pennsylvania, as a replacement for Camp Alger in northern Virginia, which was overrun with a typhoid fever epidemic. Camp Alger and Camp Meade were very much in the New York news in 1898, with the New York Times proclaiming on August 20, 1898: “Camp Meade Filling up; Thirty Thousand Men Are Expected in Ten Days and More Ground is Needed. Third New York’s Sick List Twelve Per Cent. of Its Men Confined to Their Quarters…” The article detailed recent deaths and the efforts to muster out troops scheduled to leave service. Adjunct General Tilinghast gave a press conference at the Waldorf-Astoria after returning to New York from a meeting with the Secretary of War, where he requested that “troops who had seen actual service, and those who have been in camp in localities where fever is prevalent, and those who for commercial reasons are most needed at home should be mustered out first.” He also mentioned that the 201st, the 202nd, and the 203rd NY regiments wished to remain in service. “These regiments are composed of very loyal men, who desire to remain soldiers as long as possible.”

African-American troops, 1898. The War Department encouraged recruitment of Black regiments as they believed they would be immune to tropical diseases such as yellow fever. This may be the 9th Ohio Battalion, a segregated battalion of the Ohio National Guard led by Charles Young, which was stationed at Camp Alger and Camp Meade. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Soldiers playing basketball at Camp Meade, 1898. Basketball, which was developed in 1891, was already popular by 1898, but the backboard was not introduced until 1906. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Families visiting soldiers at Camp Meade, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Times followed up on August 26th with an article “Review by the President, Troops at Camp Meade will March Past Him Tomorrow.” And on September 13th, they wrote that the “Third New York Quits Camp Meade.” However, on October 5th they published a new article, “Sick New York Troops at Camp Meade.” They reported that “Major Shakespeare of Philadelphia is making a study of the outbreak of typhoid among the New York regiments at Camp Meade…. The Two Hundred and Third New York has 400 cases of typhoid fever and is still isolated in the Conewago Hills, eight miles from the other troops.” The Surgeon General’s commission, which also included Major Walter Reed, eventually produced a “Report on the Origin and Spread of Typhoid Fever in U.S. Military Camps During the Spanish War of 1898.” At 2600 pages long, it was a landmark in modern medicine and led to reforms throughout the Army and national medical systems. The 203rd would remain in additional quarantine until November 12, 1898, when they left for a winter encampment in South Carolina. By November 18th, the Times reported “Camp Meade Now Wholly Deserted.” On December 10, 1898, the Spanish-American War ended with the Treaty of Paris and the 203rd never saw foreign service.

Soldiers at Camp Meade, 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives. On the back of the print, James W. Chapman is listed as 3rd from left, but it is unclear if that is standing or the leftmost seated figure.

One more thing, on October 29th, while the 203rd was still quarantined at Conewago, a young corporeal from Company F of Flushing, New York was promoted to sergeant. His name was James W. Chapman, James T. Chapman’s 21-year-old son. It seems that Chapman was able to visit his son at least once and take these photographs of the camp, and it is likely that the views of the downtown area are from Falls Church, Virginia when they were at Camp Alger earlier in the year. How these images came to be in the Queens Borough President’s collection is still a mystery, but there is another clue. Image 3133-k is entitled “Flushing Village Trustees – 1887” and with the print there is a typed slip of paper identifying the trustees, including one James Chapman.

Flushing Village Trustees Outing near the Flushing Water Works Station, 1887. James Chapman is listed as #7 in the back row, but that position is open to interpretation. Photographer unknown, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

George Washington Centennial, Civic and Industrial Parade, April 29-May 1, 1889. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

There are no other references to the “Chapman Collection” amongst the negatives, although at least one glass negative in the collection is a view duplicated in one of his lantern slides of the 1889 Washington Centennial parade. (An April 1889 NY Times article revealed that members of the Society of Amateur Photographers were stocking up on plates to photograph the centennial). In the 35 lantern slides we can positively identify as Chapman’s there are a few other lovely images, some of which have appeared before in For the Record. A couple of his images are hand tinted. Many of his images have a military connection, including a series of plates showing the parade for Admiral Dewey after his 1899 return from the Philippines.

From the events depicted, we can tell that Chapman was active as a photographer from at least 1889 to 1899. As a relatively prominent figure in Flushing, he may have had dealings with the Borough President’s office, which formed in 1898 with the consolidation of the boroughs. Perhaps after Chapman’s untimely death at age 48 in 1901 they were donated by his family. He had nine children, including his eldest son James, who not only survived the typhoid pandemics at Camp Alger and Camp Meade, he lived another 80 years, dying in the 1970s.

Calvary troops in formation near the Washington Bridge, probably preparing for the Admiral Dewey Parade, September 30, 1899. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Admiral Dewey Parade, September 30, 1899. Admiral Dewey in cockaded tricorn salutes crowd. Mayor Van Wyck in top hat seated by him. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

West Point cadets, 7th Regiment marching in Admiral Dewey Parade, September 30, 1899. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Hand-tinted lantern slide of a bicyclist in the woods, ca. 1890s. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives. The bicycle fad and amateur photography developed simultaneously in the late 1800s.

A family at a Queens beach cottage, ca. 1898. James T. Chapman, photographer, Queens Borough President Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Uniting the Boroughs: The Triborough Bridge

In late October 2023, the Department of Records and Information Services and the Triborough Bridge and Tunnel Authority opened a new exhibit: “Uniting the Boroughs, The TriBorough Bridge.” Consisting of images from the archives at both agencies, the exhibit showcases the twenty-year project to build the bridge.

Tri Boro Bridge model, chief and commissioner, February 4, 1931. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Edward A. Byrne the chief engineer of the Bridges Department of the New York City Department of Plant and Structures (DPS) initially proposed the bridge in 1916. The bridge was supposed to connect rapid transit lines between the boroughs and “provide for vehicular and pedestrian traffic as well as for a double track surface railway.” It was a very ambitious engineering feat with multiple types of bridges: a suspension bridge over the East River; a cantilever span at Hells Gate Channel; and a draw bridge between Randall’s Island and Manhattan’s 125th Street with “the opening for navigation purposes…made by a lift span instead of swing span.” The cost for the entire structure, including labor and materials was estimated at $10.5 million.

Figures in the DPS 1916 annual report showed that 9,858 vehicles crossed the Queensborough Bridge during the “daily count.” By 1922, this Daily Peak Load had increased to 14,638 vehicles. Additionally, on average, 942 daily passengers traveled by ferry between the Bronx and Queens and 4,629 passengers took ferries from Queens to Manhattan, daily.

Some saw the bridge as a panacea that would improve living conditions in the City.  A 1924 article in the Harlem Board of Commerce journal reports several advantages:

“It is one of the solutions to the traffic conditions that are today conceded to be one of the city’s most serious problems.

It would materially assist in bringing to an end the present housing shortage by developing large areas…

It would enable the farmers of long Island to bring their produce to the consumer in less time and at less cost than is possible at present.”

The proposal languished until 1927 when the Board of Estimate appropriated $150,000 to conduct surveys and borings for the bridge which it was hoped would reduce traffic congestion. DPS Commissioner Albert Goldman explained the reasoning for selecting 125th Street in Manhattan as the terminus for that borough. It was “the first street north of 59th Street that might be considered a river to river highway. Central Park divides the Borough of Manhattan, north and south, between 59th Street and 110th Street and between these streets in the park there are a few narrow winding transverse roads quite inadequate for present day vehicular traffic.” The estimated cost for the entire 17-mile connection had increased to $24,625,000.

Tri Boro Bridge, views of buildings for condemnation, Astoria: 2705 Hoyt Avenue, January 9, 1931. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Tri Boro Bridge, views of buildings for condemnation, Astoria: Hoyt Avenue number 2907 and 2905, March 6, 1931. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Tri Boro Bridge, views of buildings for condemnation; 2472 to 2466 24th Street front, November 11, 1930. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In June 1929, the Board of Estimate allocated $3 million to begin work on the bridge and the City began soliciting bids and identifying property to condemn, with the hope that construction would be completed within four years. A ground-breaking ceremony was held in Astoria Park on Friday, October 25, 1929, a date known widely as “Black Friday,” the day the stock market crashed, beginning the Great Depression. Before the consequences of Black Friday became clear, the Queens Chamber of Commerce enthusiastically celebrated the project’s launch as marking “an epoch in the history of the borough comparable to the breaking of ground for the Queensboro Bridge on July 19, 1901, and the inauguration of rapid transit operation in the borough in 1915.”

As late as February, 1930 optimism prevailed. “Work on Tri-borough Bridge Progressing Rapidly” a Harlem Magazine headline trumpeted. They reported that foundation work on Wards Island was underway and forecast breaking ground on the Harlem portion in May, 1930. Instead, construction stalled again.

Tri Boro Bridge Wards Island showing steel construction and piers, December 1, 1931. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Tri Boro Bridge party of engineers on inspection, December 19, 1931. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

By March 1933, when President Franklin D. Roosevelt took office, there were 13 million unemployed Americans. The financial and banking sectors had ground to a halt. Manufacturing of all types had slowed considerably. Roosevelt announced an ambitious agenda to get America working again. In the first 100 days of his administration, banking reforms were initiated and public works programs were funded to build infrastructure and put people to work. One of the most important was the Public Works Administration (PWA) which directly funded the construction of roads, bridges, tunnels and subways to the tune of $4 billion during the course of its existence—the equivalent of just over $113 billion today. This included $44 million in grants and loans for the Triborough Bridge. The PWA was headed by Roosevelt’s Secretary of the Interior and good friend, Harold Ickes.

Tri Boro Bridge showing anchorage and masonry, February 9, 1932. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In 1933, the President’s ally, New York State Governor Herbert H. Lehman issued a message in support of legislation to create a three-member Triborough Bridge Authority (TBA) to oversee construction. He noted, “The completion of the Triborough Bridge is regarded as one of the most important public works in this state. It is of vital interest to the City of New York, and, in fact, to the entire metropolitan district.” The bridge was to be a “self-liquidating project,” meaning that when the costs were recovered, tolls would cease. As drivers today can attest, that was not to be the case.

In January, 1934, Fiorello LaGuardia took office as Mayor of New York City. He embraced the New Deal programs and City projects quickly received federal funding. The three-person TBA included the City’s Parks Commissioner, Robert Moses who was known for making things happen. LaGuardia made Moses the Executive Director. The TBA applied for funding and the PWA awarded $9 million in direct funding and a $35million loan for the bridge. Construction resumed. People were working. The project was said to have involved “600 manufacturing plants in thirty states….” providing “2,000,000 cubic yards of concrete. Ninety-one thousand tons of steel and iron products were produced in the mills and shops of thirteen states more than 200 contractors, who at times gave work to 3,000 men on the project were employed,” according to engineer Othmar H. Amann. And then... drama!

Surprisingly, in 1934 Moses challenged Lehman in the State’s race for Governor. During the course of the campaign, Moses heaped abuse on the New Deal programs and called its supporters frauds. Lehman trounced Moses who returned to his roles at the TBA and the Parks Department. The challenge to Lehman and the comments about the New Deal programs had infuriated the President.

Tri Boro Bridge Astoria Park view showing sign: anchorage, March 16, 1932. Eugene de Salignac, photographer, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In January, 1935 PWA head Ickes issued an Administrative Order that prohibited PWA funding to municipalities that had recipient organizations headed by people employed elsewhere in municipal government. The order threatened $300 million for a variety of public works projects in New York City. Ostensibly an effort to reduce cronyism, this was seen as an attempt to get back at Moses. It was widely reported that the Order only applied to two people:  Moses and the Tenement House Commissioner, Langdon W. Post. The Mayor attempted to follow the order but Moses would not relinquish either of his positions. When asked about how the order would affect Post, the New York Times reports the Mayor said, “At least Post is on the high seas, and he can’t issue any statements… His answer was construed as a slap at Mr. Moses for bringing the dispute into the open after the Mayor had sought to cover it over with the declaration that no friction existed.”

Moses wouldn’t leave and eventually Mayor LaGuardia and the President resolved the dispute making the order applicable to individuals appointed after it was issued, thus preserving both Moses and Post in their positions. But, this did not reduce the acrimony between the President and Parks Commissioner Moses. In April 1935, Ickes inspected the Triborough Bridge construction, “accompanied by representatives of the Parks Department and the Triborough Bridge Authority, but Robert Moses, whose ousting from the Authority was sought so vigorously for several months last Winter by Mr. Ickes, was not among them,” the Times reported. As late as October 1935, Moses was attacking the New Deal policies in the Saturday Evening Post.

Triborough Bridge construction, Randall’s Island, February 10, 1936. Triborough Bridge & Tunnel Authority Archive.

The project employed thousands of workers and work continued around the clock. “The project makes light of any obstacle in its path. City blocks vanish. Narrow streets are widened as if a titanic wedge were hammered through them between their confining house walls. Creeks surrender to concrete arches. Piers rise for a approaches to bridges that will set arms of the sea at naught, even deadly Hell Gate, wrote reporter L. H. Robbins. 

Finally, the long-awaited opening was scheduled for July 11, 1936. Toll booths were completed the day before. Supports were removed. Painters completed their work overnight. Three thousand people attended the opening held on the hottest day of that year. 

Telegram, July 2, 1936. Correspondence with Federal Officials, Mayor LaGuardia Records Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

There was some concern that antagonisms might arise at the event. Mayor La Guardia sent a telegram to Ickes, appealing that he attend the event. Robert Moses presided at the opening, introducing all of the speakers, including President Roosevelt and Harold Ickes. In his remarks, Moses said that projects as important as the Triborough were “too big for personal enmities.” 

Never one to block a metaphor, at the opening Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia praised the construction as offering employment during the depression and questioned, “What could be more symbolic of our present-day efforts than a bridge? Are we not seeking to bridge our present troubles?  Is this not a monument to the determination of the American people today, and a reminder of the mistakes of the past?”

Robert Moses speaking at Opening Day ceremonies, July 11, 1936. Triborough Bridge & Tunnel Authority Archive.

In his remarks, President Roosevelt thanked the workers on the bridge “and those workers in the mills and shops many miles distant, without whose strong arms, willing hands and clear heads there would be no celebration here today.” He praised the construction of the bridge as the response of a modern government to the evolving needs of the population. “People require and people are demanding up-to-date government tin place of antiquated government, just as they are requiring and demanding Triborough Bridges in the place of ancient ferries.” He also took a swipe at critics, possibly even Moses, “There are a few among us, luckily only a few, who still, consciously or unconsciously, live in a state of constant  protest against the daily processes of meeting modern needs. Most of us, I am glad to say, are willing to recognize change and to give it reasonable and constant help.”

Tri Boro Bridge, 125th Street, Manhattan, March 11, 1937. Photographer unknown, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

“While the speeches were in progress motorists by the thousands gathered at the Manhattan, Bronx and Queens approaches of the bridge, waiting to be among the first to cross the structure.” reported the Herald Tribune.  The headline proclaimed “11,100 tolls paid in first hour rush.”

Tri Boro Bridge general view, January 11, 1937. Photographer unknown, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Preserving the Ghosts of New York City

New York City loves its holiday seasons. Whether it is the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Lunar New Year, or the lighting of the tree at Rockefeller Center, New Yorkers participate in major seasonal celebratory touchstone events. Halloween is no exception, and what better pastime to celebrate the scariest season than to share ghost stories?

This week For the Record highlights stories of the paranormal recorded by the WPA Federal Writers’ Project in the 1930s. Housed at the Municipal Archives the WPA Federal Writers’ Project collection contains a wealth of material that examine multiple facets of New York City life. Established in 1935, the Federal Writers’ Project was an important wing of the overall WPA. It employed an army of writers to document, publish, and preserve the local histories of every state and territory. New York City, like other major cities, received its own specific guide from the project as well. The Municipal Archives is fortunate to house many of the working files of the writers assigned to document New York City.

The Walton House, Pearl Street, New York. Valentine’s Manual, 1857. NYC Municipal Library.

Researchers familiar with the Municipal Archives may have already used elements of this collection in their studies. The WPA Federal Writers’ Project conducted the Church Records Survey, a very popular resource for researchers, but this only represents a small portion of the entire collection. Totaling 64 series and roughly 165 cubic feet, the entire collection is a valuable source of ethnographic, sociological, and cultural content. One series is particularly relevant to this season.

Series 28 of the Federal Writers’ project is titled “Look Behind You (Psychic Phenomenon) 1937-1938.” The records contain information on various aspects of the history and study of psychic phenomena and folklore in the United States, particularly in New York City and environs. Research on demonology, famous spiritualists, ghosts, haunted houses, psychic painting and photography, Native American spiritualism and folklore, witchcraft and other aspects of psychic research is included. The records document the efforts to assemble the information for both a popular historical and contemporary account of the study of psychic phenomena and folklore in the US. A draft manuscript was produced but there is no evidence that it was ever published.

Walton House, Sitting Room, 2nd Story. Valentine’s Manual of 1857, NYC Municipal Library.

The first highlighted story recounts the tale of an ill-fated sea captain named Guilford Walton. He was a resident of the Walton House in Franklin Square in lower Manhattan. He was a mysterious man, but residents of the house claimed he was a respectable individual. However, the captain soon began to mysteriously, much like his arrival, waste away.

It appears there was some “entity” hunting the unfortunate captain. Who knows what truly happened to Guilford Walton on that fateful night? Did the hard years at sea finally take their toll on the ex-sailor, or was there truly something hunting him? Additionally, what happened to the creature if it did exist? Despite the efforts of Walton’s comrades, the suspect was never caught. The Walton House and Franklin Square no longer exist so potentially the creature’s lair was demolished as well, or it possibly found a new home somewhere else in Manhattan?

The undead are not the only creatures who stalk the night. Some New Yorkers have seen more insidious creatures that are truly demonic in nature. Take the account of Thomas Flarity. He was a gardener on an estate near Fort Schuyler in what is now The Bronx. Flarity happened upon a fellow traveler late one night who happened to be looking for a gardener.   

It is fortunate that Flarity had more sense than Faust. While he was initially tempted to do so, he ultimately rejected the Devil’s deal and escaped with his soul intact.

This incident is not the only time a fiendish creature was spotted in the boroughs. In Staten Island there was a truly frightening patron who chose the famous Bull’s Head Tavern as its preferred haunt.

The Bull’s Head Tavern had attracted many famous visitors over its years of operation, but perhaps its most famous visitor was also its most infamous?

The Revolutionary War provides a connecting theme among the stories within series 28. There is a common notion that ghosts linger around sites of trauma and suffering. War is no exception and many haunted sites around the New York area are linked to that war. The most famous spirit cursed to haunt the area is the Headless Horseman of Washington Irving’s The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, but there is another deadly Hessian that haunted New York.  

These stories represent only a portion of what the WPA Writers’ recorded. There are many more tales of hauntings, ghosts, and other paranormal activities within the collection.

From For the Record, have a Happy Halloween!

Horsepower: The City and the Horse

Question: What was once ubiquitous in New York City and now almost completely absent from the streetscape? Answer: The Horse.

New York Central and Hudson River Railroad Company’s Freight Depot at West and Barclay Streets, Manhattan, November 1910. Department of Docks & Ferries Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Horses arrived with the first European colonial settlers and for the next three centuries powered the city’s transportation, construction, law enforcement, firefighting, street cleaning, ambulance, and delivery services. With related occupations and businesses—saddlers, blacksmiths, carriage manufacturers, harness makers, feed suppliers, stables, auction houses, etc. the City was dense with horses. This week, For the Record introduces the topic and features pictures selected from the Municipal Archives gallery that illustrate the preponderance of the horse in city life. Future articles will identify and explore resources in the Archives for further study of the horse in the City.

Team of 34 horses bringing steel girders for Municipal Building from dock at Battery Place, February 26, 1911. Photograph by Eugene de Salignac, Department of Bridges, Plant & Structures Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Dutch brought horses to New Amsterdam to carry heavy loads and operate gristmills and sawmills. English settlers imported horses for racing. Soon after their arrival, references to horses appear in official records, most often as the subject of assorted regulations and taxation. An entry from The Minutes of the Common Council for October 15, 1670, provides a typical citation: “Ordered that all and every person that should ship from this place any horses, mares or geldings to Virginia, Maryland or any other outward plantations should pay for every horse, mare or gelding one shilling in silver or two guilders in wampum....”

Subsequent records document regulations about where and how horses could be bought and sold, watered and fed. And many rules focused on horse racing—most often the prevention thereof.

Police officer with his horse in Central Park, ca. 1915. NYPD Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Department of Street Cleaning snow removal team, n.d. Department of Sanitation Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The first horse-drawn omnibus in the nation operated along Broadway in Manhattan from Prince to 14th Street beginning in 1832. Horse-drawn passenger vehicles continued to ply city streets until 1918. Beginning in the 1860s, fire companies adopted horses to pull fire-fighting apparatus. Similarly, the Street Cleaning Department, and the Department of Public Charities and Hospitals hitched horses to their equipment.

The number of plans related to features of Central Park specifically dedicated to horses in the Department of Parks drawing collection points to their importance for leisure activities.

Central Park, shelter for carriages and horses, preliminary study, front elevation. Jacob Wrey Mould, 1871. Department of Parks & Recreation Drawings Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Horse Aid Society, Manhattan Bridge, October 18, 1917. Photographer: Eugene de Salignac. Department of Bridges Plant & Structures Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

West 44th Street, September 6, 1931. Photographer: Frank Savastano. Borough President Manhattan Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Other records reveal another consequence of the city’s reliance on horses. There are disturbing numbers of arraignments in the Police and Magistrate’s Court docket books for offenses related to animal abuse. In many cases, the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) brought the charges. New York City’s branch of the ASPCA, founded in 1866, was the first in the U.S. based on a similar group that originated in Great Britain. More recently, the ASPCA monitors conditions of the City’s carriage horses.

By the early twentieth century, the number of horses in the city began to diminish. Technology, in the form of motor vehicles—cars and trucks, gradually reduced the city’s reliance on horsepower. Between 1910 and 1920, the number of horses in the City declined from 128,000 to 56,000.

Riders on Central Park Bridle Paths, June 1937. Photographer: E.M. Bofinger. WPA Federal Writers’ Project Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Although much reduced in number, the horse is not entirely absent from the City scene today. Aqueduct Racetrack in Queens, the only racetrack located within New York City limits, continues to operate, generally from late October through April. Closure of the Claremont Riding Stables on Manhattan’s Upper West Side in 2007 greatly reduced, but did not entirely eliminate people enjoying horseback rides along Central Park’s bridle paths. And despite decades-long protests and controversy, horse-drawn carriages still meander through the southern portion of the park.

Highway maintenance, Queens Boulevard and Woodhaven Avenue, August 13, 1926. Borough President Queens Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Coney Island Hospital ambulance, n.d. Department of Public Charities and Hospitals Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Department of Street Cleaning rubbish wagon, Brooklyn, n.d. Department of Sanitation Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Teamster on West Street, Manhattan, February 10, 1938. WPA Federal Writers’ Project Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Horse with feed bag, ca. 1936. WPA Federal Writers’ Project Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Village blacksmith, 33 Cornelia Street, Manhattan, August 6, 1937. Photographer: E.M. Bofinger. WPA Federal Writers’ Project Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Mayor Edward Koch at the Big Apple Stakes, Aqueduct Racetrack, Queens, April 26, 1980. Mayor Edward Koch Photograph Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.