No Sleep ’til South Brooklyn

Before I moved to “The Garden Spot” I lived in Kensington. For twelve whole months. I hated it. Though this neighborhood is quite beautiful, I had the misfortune of having a bedroom that faced a courtyard where mentally ill people ranted and chain-smoked all night long. Ever heard a crazy woman scream the following at 2:30 in the morning?

No, I didn’t kill my husband and I am never going to die!

I have. OVER AND OVER.

But that’s the subject of another post.

The purpose of this post is to give South Brooklyn a little love. Greenpoint style.

From Greenpoint to South Brooklyn via Raymond Street Jail.*

Lizzie Higgins was arrested in Greenpoint last night for intoxication.

“Where do you live?” asked Judge Watson in the Ewen Street (now Manhattan Avenue) police court this morning.

“In Baltic Street,” was the answer.

“In South Brooklyn?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s a good ways from Greenpoint. How came you way over here?”

“Shure, I kem over to see a frind of moine that was sick and I took a drop too much, I suppose.”

“I suppose too. Well, we’ll give you one day in jail. It’s on your way home and you won’t have too far to walk when you get out; beside(s) you get a free ride.

At least this South Brooklyn gal wasn’t further humiliated by riding the G train home.

The ground-breaking for Brooklyn-Queens Crosstown Local was held at Green Street and Manhattan Avenue March 4, 1928 at 3:30 p.m. Greenpernt’s very own Pete McGuinness was the Master of Ceremonies. Naturally.

Miss Heather

*Brooklyn Daily Eagle; December 12, 1893.

Smells like Greenpoint Spirit!

Yesterday I received an email whose subject line read:

Holy fuck it smells like hot ass in here, ugh!

The author (whose name is Andrew) goes on to write:

That subject is a quote from my lovely girlfriend this morning. The hot ass she spoke of was not the sexy kind, but the “5 tons of processed shit wafting through our bedroom window” kind. I’ve lived in Greenpoint for 8 years and experienced my fair share of Greenpoint Smell Days, but this is by far the stank-nastiest year I’ve ever experienced. Is it just me or has it gotten much worse than usual lately?

If it keeps up like this all summer I will seriously consider moving into the McGolrick Park bathroom, which probably smells better than my apartment.

Enough ranting, I know you have a lot of GP readers so I was wondering if you would be kind enough to remind them of this little snippet from the Greenpoint Waterfront Association site:

WHAT STINKS AROUND HERE?

Call 311 if you smell that ol’ Greenpoint smell of the sewage treatment plant…call 311 if your local park has broken glass or worse(!) in it… Be sure to get a COMPLAINT # and email it to info@gwapp.org. We’ll keep track of it and pester the local authorities. But we need you to CALL.

I want to thank Andrew for reminding me to bring our neighborhood’s increased ripeness to light. Not only did a number of people attending Forgotten-NY‘s recent tour of Greenpoint notice a strange odor, but earlier this week I was on McGuinness Boulevard and found myself gasping for air. I’m not going to bullshit you: McGuinness Boulevard does not exactly smell like a rose. But this malodorous perfume was different than the usual cocktail of auto exhaust with just a hint of stale piss. If I had to liken this special smell something, it would that of rotting fish drenched in stale piss.

Speaking as someone who has lived here almost as long as Andrew, I agree with him. This year thus far is proving to be one of the worst odor-wise that I have ever experienced. One can only imagine what July or August is going to be like. Yikes.

Seriously folks, if you smell something, say something. It’s time that our state and municipal government learn that we are tired of getting the shit-end of the stick. If this problem was on the Upper East Side (whose garbage Greenpoint has the honor of handling) or in brownstone Brooklyn, I assure you it would be addressed post haste. Why should it be any different here?

Miss Heather

Cool Burglars in Greenpoint

After yesterday’s chance meeting with a victim of caulk theft, I couldn’t stop thinking about how nice Greenpointers really are. They may lack the polish of their tonier neighbors to the south (Greenpoint is more Coors Light with a ciggie than grenache in a glass), but these people will give you the shirts off their back. What’s more, the more felonious folks who take the shirt off your back understand how truly bad if feels to be robbed. They will even tell you so. I learned the latter recently in the December 15, 1892 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle.

COOL BURGLARS IN GREENPOINT

Two of Them Arrested While Condoling Their Victim.

When it was learned today that the liquor store of John Hughes, 182 West Street, had been entered by burglars some time between 1 and 5 o’clock this morning, the police of the Greenpoint Avenue station were all more or less perturbed, for burglaries in that section of the city, although generally trivial, have been numerous of late and arrests have been few. This particular burglary small though it was, was of an aggravating nature. The burglars had smashed a glass in the rear window, pushed back a catch and made themselves at home. They stole bottles of liquor, boxes of cigars, packages of cigarettes and drank and smoked for some time, evidently, as signs of their festive raid were not wanting. They carried off the rest of their plunder.

Not until 10 o’clock was a report of the burglary made to the police. Immediately Detective Sergeant Donlon and Patrolmen Behlen were put upon the case. Half an hour later they arrested a man on the Freeman Street dock. He had been drinking from one the stolen bottles, and when he saw strangers approaching he threw the bottle into the river. He said he was Thomas Kiernan, 43 years old, a laborer at 61 Green Street. From information furnished by Kiernan the police set out in search of the other two men, and found them standing in the saloon which had been entered, coolly condoling with Hughes, the proprietor. They professed much surprise and indignation when arrested, but the police claim to have found some of the stolen goods in the pockets of all three men. The two men arrested in the saloon described themselves as James F. Gorman, ship carpenter, 25 years old, of 63 Freeman Street, and William Boyton, a sparman, 25 years old, of 51 Box Street. The police say that the three men are idlers, and have for some time been under surveillance.

So let me get this straight: these guys break into a saloon between “1 and 5 o’clock” in the morning and one is later found drinking on the docks at 10:30 a.m.?!? That’s one serious party.

Miss Heather