From a Slate article published in 2004:
In Hidalgo, which opens Friday, Viggo Mortensen plays Frank T. Hopkins, an American cowboy who takes his mustang overseas to compete in the Ocean of Fire, an endurance horse race across thousands of miles of Arabian desert. The trailer bills the Disney/Touchstone movie as an "incredible true story," and the tale of Hopkins' travels is certainly incredible. But is it really true?
Well, there truly was a Frank T. Hopkins. He lived from 1865 to 1951, and in his memoirs, which he wrote in the 1930s and 1940s with his wife Gertrude, he exhibits plenty of cowboy swagger—he calls Buffalo Bill a stinking drunk and Sitting Bull a coward. He also claims that he was a long-distance U.S. Cavalry rider by age 12; the winner of hundreds of long-distance races all across America; a friend of Black Elk; a star in Buffalo Bill's Wild West show for over 30 seasons; and the first American ever to compete in—and win—the Ocean of Fire.
The problem is, each of these claims is demonstrably false.
Read the rest here
Today I saw a few different sections of All Faiths Cemetery set aside for Civil War vets. Reflecting the overall population of the cemetery, most of these soldiers were of German origin.
Like his son Donald, Fred Christ Trump was a very successful real estate developer. (We've previously seen an old Depression-era supermarket he built.) Unlike his son, however, he had a reputation for modesty and frugality. According to his family, he would regularly visit his construction sites at the end of the day, still dressed in his suit, and would walk around collecting unused nails to make sure they didn't get wasted. He also would often handle the pest extermination duties in his buildings himself, just to save money. Here at All Faiths, there is only one indication that this gravesite belongs to a family of above-average means: while most of the footpaths in the cemetery are cracked and/or partially covered with dirt, the path leading up to this stone is very smoothly and freshly paved, but then returns to oblivion shortly after passing the Trumps.
on the Lower Montauk line, located just outside the southern entrance to All Faiths Cemetery. The Long Island Rail Road ceased passenger service here and at four other stops on the line in 1998 (before eventually canceling passenger service on the line altogether in 2012), deciding the stations were too "lightly used" to justify paying for the improvements that would have been required to keep them open. As the NY Times put it:
"Lightly used" may be an understatement for Glendale station, which is actually two forlorn strips of pavement beside the tracks, with no signs, no timetables -- nothing, in fact, that suggests it is an official stop on the L.I.R.R.'s Montauk branch.
According to L.I.R.R. records, only two customers used the station each day: Ms. McDonald, who carries her lunch in a plastic bag, and Mr. Sullivan, with his Newsday tucked under his arm. Both work in Glendale. (Mr. Mueller, who rides the train to the Nassau Coliseum only when there is an Islanders game, does not show up on the daily passenger counts.)
This Pennsylvania truss bridge, located right at the edge of All Faiths Cemetery, carries the southern end of the New York Connecting Railroad over the tracks of the Lower Montauk line at Fresh Pond Junction, Long Island's primary freight rail yard.
Structures like this were once used to temporarily store bodies until their burial sites were ready, sometimes for long stretches during the winter when the ground was too frozen to dig into.
Found in the bathroom at All Faiths Cemetery