WHEREAS, You are interested in learning a little about the history of this African Orthodox church; and
WHEREAS, You are also interested in obtaining a little insight into the workings of our state government; and
WHEREAS, You find rigidly structured bureaucratic documents somewhat humorous; now, therefore, be it
RESOLVED, That you will take a look at this long-winded LEGISLATIVE RESOLUTION adopted by the New York State Senate commemorating the 75th anniversary of St. Leonard's Church, Inc., AAO, Brooklyn, New York.
This memorial to the deceased Russell Tyrone Jones has been literally defaced a couple of times since its creation in 2006, but the current version seems to be sticking.
This Clinton Hill building began its life in 1851 as the home of the Brooklyn Society for the Relief of Respectable Aged Indigent Females, an organization founded by John Graham "in consequence of his sympathy with the indigent gentlewomen who had, by previous culture and refinement, been unfitted to accept willingly the public asylum provided by the state". In order to be admitted, "a lady had to be over 60 and bring satisfactory testimonials of the propriety of her conduct and the respectability of her character".
By the 1980s, the property had become the Bull Shippers Plaza Motor Inn, and was populated by women of a different sort: "ladies by the hour who brought only scanty-panty testimonials of propriety".
After sitting vacant for the better part of the '90s, the decrepit structure was bought and renovated by a developer, who turned it into one of the neighborhood's first condominiums in 2001.
This madness has got to stop! Jeff Boss for President! JEFF BOSS FOR PRESIDENT!
The interior of this Albee Square bank is absolutely stunning, with a Mercury dime motif enriching the capitals of these columns and the circular frieze above them.
Once shared by 35 lodges, this massive block of a building now also serves as a part-time concert hall.
The Castle Brothers didn't just pour sidewalks; they also built Ebbets Field!
An excerpt from a 1912 NY Times article entitled "Dirt Flies in New Brooklyn Ball Park":
The baseball park is in its present state a howling wilderness . . . On the park at present are several old houses and shanties and goats and tomato cans. Mr. Ebbets warned everybody not to be alarmed at this state of affairs, because, he said, Castle Brothers had promised to rush the work of grading the diamond and building the concrete fences, and after that the work on the stands will be rushed, so that at least the games of the last third of the season of 1912 will be played at the new park.
Most of the city's remaining boot scrapers are integrated into balustrades, but every once in a while you come across one of these lone wolves.
With chaise longues (chaise lounges?) making their way into all sorts of public spaces, I guess it was only a matter of time before one just plopped itself down right on the sidewalk.
Starting in 1964, this model became safe at one or more speeds.
These beasts of the tangram (as well as several others not in the photo) seem to have adapted well to the urban environs of Cuyler Gore Park.
One of these suckers has been turned into little yellow warning diamonds. Perhaps you recall something similar we saw back in Oregon.
Completed in 1906 after fifteen years of construction, this twin-towered house of worship stood its ground as the Ingersoll and Whitman Houses sprung up around it, leading to the somewhat incongruous sight of a massive church standing amidst a tract of public housing. Its current altar was built with girders salvaged from the demolition of the old Myrtle Avenue El, some of whose still-standing remnants we recently came across. The church was closed last year, a casualty of a consolidation effort by the struggling Brooklyn Diocese, but a Catholic presence remains inside.
This perplexing mural livens up the Brooklyn Love Building (owned by a guy who runs a nearby Cuban restaurant — hence the Che Guevara reference, I guess).
I believe they're tallying passing pedestrians, including yours truly.
This was once the Brooklyn headquarters of the ASPCA, which was founded in New York City in 1866. (Here's a great history of the organization.) The ASPCA owes its existence to the tireless efforts of a single man, Henry Bergh, who "alone, in the face of indifference, opposition, and ridicule," worked to bring an end to the many barbaric acts of animal cruelty once seen as acceptable. That's the organization's seal, featuring an angel preventing a man from beating a horse, perched atop the doorway; this is what it looks like up close.
All three of these people look like they just dozed off.
And at least one pigeon is very happy about it (in the background, near a car tire).
Although these guys weren't exactly dry to begin with.
This sculpture sits outside FDNY Squad Company 1, which lost about a dozen members on 9/11. According to one of the firemen there:
This chainsaw sculpture was made by an artist in Oregon, who drove it to NYC in his truck. The city refused to take it, however, because they didn't want to be liable for people running into it and getting hurt. It eventually found its way here to Park Slope, and the Food Coop agreed to keep it on their property next door to the firehouse. The bottom of it is pretty badly rotted — it was only placed up on those blocks after a considerable amount of water damage had already occurred.
(This article tells a slightly different story.)
This plaque, unrelated to the sculpture, is mounted on the wall of FDNY Squad Company 1.
Take a look at the pedals and the chain — no wonder this couple has been stuck in the same spot for so long!
This bridge, a double-leaf rolling bascule, spans the picturesque Gowanus Canal. In the distance, you can see a wondrous blue bridge, which we'll learn more about in due time.
Glorified at Little Round Top (where the granite for this statue's pedestal was quarried) and humiliated at Five Forks, this civil engineer and Civil War general was the brother of Emily Warren Roebling, who shared the duties of chief engineer of the Brooklyn Bridge with her husband, Washington Roebling, after he developed caisson disease in 1870 and became bedridden.
