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Chela

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Bio

Chela

I am the Director of Library and Archives at the Brooklyn Historical Society. I joined the BHS team in 2008. Prior to that, I was lucky enough to work in the archives of two other great history museums-- The New York Transit Museum and The Benson Ford Research Center at The Henry Ford outside of Detroit.

Horsecars and trolleys and plank roads, oh my

One of my favorite things about being an archivist at BHS is all the different people I get to meet in the library. Researchers and their work are fascinating, and with each new person I work with, I get to learn something new. When I first started working as an archivist, I was amused to make the connection that libraries and archives have regulars– folks that come in often enough that you know their names (and sometimes their stories and their quirks)– just like the bars and coffee shops and restaurants I’d worked at in the past. At BHS we have some great regulars, either because they live in the neighborhood and love working in our amazingly beautiful library, they are researchers for hire who return often with new research for new clients, or because their research requires them to delve deeply in to the collections here at BHS.

One of our favorite regulars falls in to this last category: Darryl Heller is an American History PhD candidate at University of Chicago, whose work around 19th Century Brooklyn has brought him back to our archives on repeated trips. This week brings him back to Brooklyn again for more research and a presentation at Proteus Gowanus. Proteus Gowanus is a gallery, press, and reading room, and each year they chose a theme around which they build projects, exhibits, and events. This years theme is Transport, “an exploration through art, artifacts, books and events of How We Get There in the never-ending journey toward our destinations.” As a part of this exploration, they asked Darryl to talk about the history of early transportation in Brooklyn. For those of you unfamiliar with pre-HopStop public transport in Brooklyn, it was made up of a complicated and confusing assemblage of competing routes, technologies, companies, visions, and legislation. Following is a preview from Darryl of some of what he will be talking about:

Brooklyn is known for many things, among which is as the home to famous Brooklyn Dodgers at Ebbets Field. The Dodgers, of course, was a shortened name for the Brooklyn Trolley Dodgers, a moniker that came to represent the baseball team after 1911. This title was appropriate given that Brooklyn had one of the most extensive street railway systems in the nation. Crossing the streets of the borough was, to some extent, a hair-raising if not life threatening endeavor. However, the trolley era, and its ubiquitous overhead wires, was preceded by the horsecar railway, a lower tech, but critical mode of transportation that occupied the streets of the city for almost half a century.

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This early form of urban transportation was constructed by laying smooth rails along city streets and using horses or mules as the motive power. Between 1853 and 1898 over twenty different companies provided transportation around the city of Brooklyn with lines radiating like the spokes of a wheel from downtown to all parts of Kings County. At its height, some companies stabled more than 3000 horses to pull cars and move residents between home, work, and pleasure destinations such as Coney Island. Lines stretched from Fulton Street to East New York, Atlantic Avenue to Jamaica, Main Street to Williamsburgh, and Hamilton Ferry to New Utrecht and Gravesend.

One of the reasons that the horse was so important is that steam locomotives were banned from operating within city limits because of their noise, smoke, ashes, and sparks. Although the Long Island Railroad was provisionally allowed to run steam trains along Atlantic Avenue, most other steam roads operated in the rural towns and villages beyond the city line. Some companies used both forms of power, that is, travelers would board a horsecar at an East River ferry and ride it to the border of the city. They would then disembark and transfer to a steam train in order to continue on to Bath Beach, Coney Island, or other shore locations.

By the late 1880’s electricity was developed to the extent that it provided a viable solution to the horse. Out of this was born the horseless trolley, with its power station that replaced the stable. For many, this was a welcome advance and by the turn of the century the role of the horse was fading from memory. Nevertheless, its contribution to the development of the modern city is unquestioned.

Join Darryl Heller, Proteus Gowanus, and quite likely a few BHS staff, this Friday at 7PM at Proteus Gowanus, 543 Union Street, Brooklyn, New York 11215.

Oh the weather outside is frightful

In honor of all the snowpocalypse and snowmageddon talk I’ve been hearing for the past few days, and my really rather lovely snowy walk in to work this morning, I thought I’d post a few pictures of snowy Brooklyn in years past. Enjoy!

Riverdale Avenue in Brownsville, circa 1950. V1991.11.43, by Harry Kalmus.

Riverdale Avenue in Brownsville, circa 1950. V1991.11.43, by Harry Kalmus, from the Kalmus Photography Collection at the Brooklyn Historical Society.

Work at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, circa 1955. V1988.37.141, by Mr. Anthony Costanzo,

Work at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, circa 1955. V1988.37.141, by Mr. Anthony Costanzo, from the Costanzo Navy Yard Collection at the Brooklyn Historical Society.

64th St. near 6th Avenue, Bay Ridge, December 27, 1947. V1973.5.2596, by Joseph Slepian.

64th St. near 6th Avenue, Bay Ridge, December 27, 1947. V1973.5.2596, by Joseph Slepian, from the Brooklyn Historical Society Photography Collection.

Removing snow on B.R.T. cars, circa 1915. V1974.22.919, by Eugene Armbruster, from the Eugene L. Armbruster Photograph and Scrapbook Collection at the Brooklyn Historical Society.

Removing snow on B.R.T. cars, circa 1915. V1974.22.919, by Eugene Armbruster, from the Eugene L. Armbruster Photograph and Scrapbook Collection at the Brooklyn Historical Society.

And a few more from the Great Blizzard of 1888, which brought 40 inches of snow, drifts up to 30-40 feet and winds up to 55 mph to Brooklyn. The storm prevented both street and rail transportation, and left many confined to home for almost a week.

Clearing snow on Flatbush Avenue, March 15, 1888. V1974.7.331 by A.V. Martense, from the Adrian Vanderveer Martense Photography Collection at the Brooklyn Historical Society.

Clearing snow on Flatbush Avenue, March 15, 1888. V1974.7.331 by A.V. Martense, from the Adrian Vanderveer Martense Photography Collection at the Brooklyn Historical Society.

Sleigh running between Flatbush and Brooklyn. V1974.40.1.167, Album of photographs of the Blizzard of 1888 taken by the Brooklyn Academy of Photography, from the Photography Collection at the Brooklyn Historical Society.

Sleigh running between Flatbush and Brooklyn. V1974.40.1.167, from an album of photographs of the Blizzard of 1888 taken by the Brooklyn Academy of Photography, from the Photography Collection at the Brooklyn Historical Society.

Lafayette Avenue, near Franklin. V1974.40.1.28, from an album of photographs of the Blizzard of 1888 taken by the Brooklyn Academy of Photography, from the Photography Collection at the Brooklyn Historical Society.

Lafayette Avenue, near Franklin. V1974.40.1.28, from an album of photographs of the Blizzard of 1888 taken by the Brooklyn Academy of Photography, from the Photography Collection at the Brooklyn Historical Society.

Want to see more great images from out photography collections? Check out our online gallery, or visit the library anytime we’re open (Wed-Fri, 1-5PM) to search through our image database of over 30,000 images, no appointment necessary!

To Gravesend and Back

Last week’s guest post was so well received, we thought we’d try it again this week. Today’s post is from Joseph Ditta, BHS friend, Reference Librarian at the New-York Historical Society, and born-and-bred Brooklynite. Joseph has a great new book out through Arcadia Publishing called Then & Now: Gravesend, Brooklyn. The book is packed with cool photographs comparing the same locations in the 19th and early 20th Centuries with modern day. It  is really fun to see what familiar buildings looked like in their past, the way that people have attempted to modernize buildings (both to good and bad effect), as well as to realize just how well history blends in to the present and is really all around us. But enough from me; Joseph has been kind enough to walk us through one of these comparisons, so without further delay:

Take any subway bound for Coney Island. Hop off a few stops before the end of the line. You’re in Gravesend, the neighborhood descended from the 17th-century town by that name the City of Brooklyn annexed in 1894. Walk around. Look around. Chances are you’ll come across a scene like this:

Gravesend Neck Road, 2009, courtesy of Joseph Ditta

Gravesend Neck Road, 2009, courtesy of Joseph Ditta

I know what you’re thinking. “This is Gravesend? What’s the big deal? Can we go home now?” No. Sorry. Not until you see why I’ve brought you here. I promise it won’t take long.

See that girl in the photo? She’s walking east along the south side of Gravesend Neck Road, probably on her way home from school. We can only guess her thoughts are on her homework, but it’s a safe bet they are not on the white house behind her at number 66. She must pass it every day without even noticing it. Why would she? It’s a nondescript building on an unremarkable street in southern Brooklyn. Or is it?

Suppose we pluck that girl out of 2009 and set her down on the same spot in 1879? Would she recognize this stretch of her daily route 130 years before it became her daily route? Here’s how it looked:

Gravesend Neck Road, 1879, courtesy of Joseph Ditta

Gravesend Neck Road, 1879, courtesy of Joseph Ditta

Amazingly, the white house was standing, though configured a bit differently in its guise of combined post office, grocery, flour, and feed store. The men lolling on the porch were there for no reason more pressing than to share reports of crops and home, of politics and the world beyond. Back then, news spread faster by word of mouth than it did by letter. It seems 66 Gravesend Neck Road was an important social destination for this late-19th-century community.

I should let our schoolgirl continue on her 21st-century way (with my thanks for being such a good, if unwitting, sport). You’d probably like to return to the present, too. Feel free, but take with you the idea that even the most humdrum sites we encounter in our busy lives might once have held significance the way this stucco-covered house was once at the center of Gravesend life. Brooklyn is filled with similar stories waiting to be recovered. Just look around.

The images presented here appear in Joseph Ditta’s new book, Then & Now: Gravesend, Brooklyn (Arcadia Publishing, 2009).

If you want to read more, you can come in to the BHS library to read the full book, or purchase it in our Amazon Store. You can also become a fan of the book on Facebook.

What’s wrong with my scrapbook?

The library at BHS is lucky enough to have a great team of interns working on all kinds of projects from answering your reference questions to scanning historic images to cataloging archival collections. Today we’ll hear from Katy Christensen, who has been working in the archives processing and cataloging archive, manuscript and photo collections, about some of her recent work.

Scrapbooking has become increasingly popular in recent years and one can now find webpages devoted entirely to scrapbook layouts and suggested themes. They are hardly a new phenomenon, however. Scrapbooks have been around for well over a century and we have dozens in our collection. They present a fascinating conundrum to the archivist as they have both benefits and drawbacks as methods of preserving the historical record. Different materials need different conditions for optimal preservation, so having a photograph glued opposite a newspaper article is not particularly good for either material. And the less said about glue the better. But from the perspective of the cultural historian, there is valuable information in the associations made by the scrapbook’s creator between different materials. Whether the organization is chronological or thematic, why a person or society kept materials together is fascinating.

Eckford Club New Year's Card

I recently had the pleasure of processing one of our scrapbooks and found some amazing and delightful materials inside. Sadly, the condition of the materials, and the book itself, is poor and the materials would have been much better served to have been saved separately. This collection, that of the Eckford Social Club, covers a variety of topics over its length. Many of these materials would not have been associated with each other were it not for their current domicile and the value of the materials is in large part in the information conveyed by the whole, rather than by the parts.

The collection covers the years 1871-1961, with a particular concentration of information between 1899 and 1956. It is predominately composed of newspaper clippings relating to the club’s members. They were in a variety of fields throughout New York and thus the clippings cover many topics: medical advances, judicial appointments, and political races among others. The club had a particular interest in baseball, having been founded as a baseball club and only later evolving into a social club. A few of the members had a share in the Brooklyn Dodgers, and one of them received a Christmas card from Babe Ruth in 1931.

Christmas Card from Babe Ruth

There are other treasures in the collection, such as a discussion on the role of the wife by a bachelor magistrate which would make any modern woman cringe, a sweet article about a Prospect Park gardener, cartoonish watercolor images, and charming post cards.

Women and Marriage ClippingProspect Park Gardener ClippingWatercolorWatercolorTwo PostcardsPostcard

It is fascinating to see these disparate items together; to see them linked to sports scores, political campaigns, and obituaries; and to know that there was a group of men who found each of these items interesting enough to keep. But the downsides of scrapbooking are just as easy to see. The earlier photographs have all faded and the figures within them are often difficult to distinguish.

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The later photographs are not as damaged, but it is only a matter of time.

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So what is the moral of this story? Think before you scrapbook. There are better ways to store your images and ephemera. If, however, you feel determined to keep them together, there are ways to at least alleviate the stresses that multiple media will place on each other. Use acid free paper. Use photo corners or dots and avoid glue and tape. I only urge that you make an informed decision before committing your memories to a possibly hazardous home.

For more information about safe scrapbooking, here is a good article on the subject.

Old Ladies and Respectable but Indigent Females

Graham Home for Old Ladies by nickjohnson on flickr

Graham Home for Old Ladies by nickjohnson on flickr

A few weeks back, we got a reference question about  the Graham Home for Old Ladies, a charitable organization long gone, but whose building still stands at 320 Washington Ave. at Dekalb in Clinton Hill. Just a few days after the question came in, Brownstoner wrote about a condo for sale in the building.   Then, on my way to eat delicious tacos this week, I looked up as I was walking down the street and there the building was again. Well, I figured it was the blog gods telling me it was time for a post.

2nd Annual Report: Brooklyn Society for the Relief of Respectable Aged Indigent Females from the collections of the Othmer Library at Brooklyn Historical Society

2nd Annual Report: Brooklyn Society for the Relief of Respectable Aged Indigent Females from the collections of the Othmer Library at Brooklyn Historical Society

So just what was this building with the funny name? The building was to be known as the Graham Institution, in honor of the man who funded its construction, John B. Graham, Esq. It was supported and managed by  The Brooklyn Society for the Relief of Aged Indigent Respectable Females.  The Society’s 1st Annual Report tells us that it was made up of a Board of Managers of women  representing twenty six different Brooklyn churches across several denominations, and an Advisory Committee of “seven gentlemen, well qualified to counsel and aid in this interesting enterprise and labor of love.” Funding came from individual donations, as well as a list of subscribers who paid at least $1 annually.

The home housed women in their later years who had fallen upon hard times, most of whom had been of at least middle class means at some point in their lives. According to their constitution and by-laws, in order for potentials pensioners to apply for a room,  they had to be at least 60 years old, residents of Brooklyn or Williamsburg for at least the previous seven years, be recommended by one or more subscribers, and bring “satisfactory testimonials to the propriety of her conduct and the respectability of her character.” One also had to pay $50 upon admission.

43rd Annual Report: Brooklyn Society for the Relief of Respectable Aged Indigent Females from the collections of the Othmer Library at Brooklyn Historical Society

43rd Annual Report: Brooklyn Society for the Relief of Respectable Aged Indigent Females from the collections of the Othmer Library at Brooklyn Historical Society

The cornerstone for the building was laid on July 2, 1851. According to the Society’s 2nd annual report, it cost a total of $29, 044.95 to build, including the $4000 paid for the lots. The report goes on at length about nearly all aspects of the construction– masonry work, carpentry work, plumbing, painting (”the cornice has 4 coats of pure white lead paint and umber, the last two coats sanded”!), and the finishing work on the interior. It contained 55 rooms to accommodate 90 old ladies, each with a closet; apartments for matron and attendants; eight large pantries and a complete bathroom on the 1st floor;  a chapel and committee room which opened on to one another, and an eight bed hospital, all on the 2nd floor.

I love the stories behind places and things that have had long lives, far longer than I have been around to notice.  This borough is full of stories like this.  This building is just one example of places I’m curious about. Anybody out there in blog land have other pieces of Brooklyn’s history they are curious about? Let us know in the comments, and it just might become a blog post!

Alfred T. White and Brooklyn’s Better Self

atw-front-cover_caption1Last night, BHS hosted a book launch for The Social Vision of Alfred T. White, a new publication from Proteotypes, the publishing arm of the fantastic Brooklyn gallery and reading room Proteus Gowanus. It was a great event. Sasha Chavcahcadze and Tom LaFarge from Proteus spoke about White, his work and what compelled them to tell his story, and an interesting and diverse crowd of people were there to enjoy the speakers, our library, and some tasty treats. Brooklyn Historical was a collaborator on the book, and much research was done for it in our library. It is a great resource, and we were thrilled to be a part of the process.

Alfred Tredway White (1846-1921) is a frequent subject of reference questions in our library. Through helping people find sources to answer these questions, I’ve become really interested in his work. Throughout his life, he was a tireless advocate for affordable, dignified housing for the working classes and for poor and immigrant children in a Brooklyn that was quickly becoming an industrialized, populous metropolis. White is little remembered today, but his work is still seen all over the city in the form of buildings he built such as Riverside Apartments on Columbia Pl. in Brooklyn Heights, the Home and Tower Apartments on Hicks St. in Cobble Hill, and the Workingmen’s Cottages on Warren Pl.

His influence reached beyond just the buildings he was directly responsible for. White was an engineer by training and a businessman by practice, and was driven by moral convictions fueled by his work with poor and immigrant children in the settlement schools of Brooklyn’s First Unitarian Church. It was this unique combination of social calling, keen business acumen, and an engineer’s problem-solving abilities and design sense that I think made his influence so far-reaching and effective. He advocated for a “philanthropy plus 5%” business model, and was able to persuade other wealthy men in his social circle to follow his lead and build housing that was affordable for the working class but would still show their owners a respectable profit. He directly influenced Frederic Pratt to build the Astral Apartments in Greenpoint for workers in its kerosene refineries, and the City and Suburban Homes Company’s large developments on W. 68th and W. 69th Sts. in Manhattan; his writings helped in the passage of Tenement legislation in New York State in the 1890s; and with friend and Brooklyn Mayor Seth Low founded the Brooklyn Bureau of Charities.

The list of ways in which his philanthropy and advocacy was influential is much longer than this. If you are interested in learning more about White and his work, come in to our library. We have lithographs from the 1880s of floorplans and exterior views of the Tower and Home Buildings and Riverside Buildings in our works on paper collection; images of some of his buildings in the Edna Huntington Photographs (V1974.16.219-220) and others among our photography collections; and many hard to find books in our library collection. Among the records in the archives, we have Records of the Towers and House of the Riverside Buildings (Accession 1978.154), which are ledger books detailing the costs of construction of the buildings starting in 1878, and then the subsequent rental income from tenants until about 1949. The oversize hand-written ledger books are beautiful in their own right, and offer an amazingly detailed account of almost seven decades of life in these buildings. We also have records from the First Unitarian Church, The Brooklyn Bureau of Charities, The Children’s Aid Society, and The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, all in which White was involved.