IN MEMORY OF
THE 84 EMPLOYEES OF
THE PORT AUTHORITY OF
NEW YORK AND NEW JERSEY
WHO LOST THEIR LIVES
IN THE ATTACK ON THE
WORLD TRADE CENTER ON
SEPTEMBER 11, 2001
These foot-operated underground garbage receivers are a common curbside sight in Astoria Heights, where many of the residential complexes have chosen to install them.
I'll let Kevin Walsh tell the story of this ancient, vine-shrouded dwelling.
One can only imagine the wonders that must lie behind the locked gate of the enigmatic Port Authority landfill forest.
at the very creatively named Woodtree Playground.
It's already turned over twice since we were last here.
Our buddy Never is featured on the trailer this time around.
Opened in 1928; its predecessor was condemned to make way for the southward extension of Sixth Avenue.
(That's a tour bus.)
Why don't they hang out somewhere that doesn't have one of those signs?
It's not just me who thinks these ventilation systems are amazing!
This fountain, located just off Canal Street, is meant to evoke the eponymous canal that was built in the early 1800s to drain the once-vital Collect Pond, which, until befouled by the 18th-century industries that sprung up around it, had long been one of the city's most important sources of fresh water.
(I prefer yellow with orange trim, but to each his own.)
I was sitting on a park bench beside the Canal Street canal-fountain thingy when I looked up and saw my buddy Steve Duncan leading a tour of Minetta Brook and the Canal Street canal. Both waterways are now underground, having been incorporated into the city's sewer system, which helps explain why that guy is peering into that manhole with a flashlight.
The two skyscrapers under construction are (left to right) Four World Trade Center and One World Trade Center.
I bought some cherries from a nearby stand. They were not very good.
This ten-story structure was once the headquarters of The Forward, a Jewish Socialist newspaper (one of the busts just above the sidewalk shed is Karl Marx). The building served an intermediate stint as a Chinese church before becoming what it was really meant to be all along: luxury condos!
Teams from around the US and Canada have come to Seward Park (the first permanent, municipally built playground in the country) to play in this annual Chinese-American volleyball tournament.
Sitting in the middle of the La Guardia Houses, this bathhouse was abandoned long ago, but there are calls to put the building back in service as a recreation center.
I was walking through the darkening streets of the East Village when I came upon an older gentleman taking his dog for a stroll. I noticed the colorful tiles artfully glued to his walking cane, and put two and two together: Jim Power! He's been struggling with some health problems lately — you can support him by checking out his website, where you can watch a wonderful short film that tells his story and shows off many of his new works.
The graveyard of St. Patrick's Old Cathedral (not to be confused with St. Patrick's Not-Quite-So-Old Cathedral)
Inside the firehouse, where the victims of two other fires are also remembered
Not too many of these guys on the streets of New York.
This unusually situated establishment was photographed in great detail by Scouting NY.
In the days after 9/11, Lorrie Veasey created 5000 handmade ceramic angels, one for each person who was then thought to have died in the attacks, and she hung them on this chain-link fence surrounding the vacant lot next to her Village pottery shop. Over the following months and years, she's received thousands of tile contributions from all over the country, many of which are now on display here.
The memorial, known as Tiles for America, is so beloved that a local group temporarily removed all the tiles and stored them out of harm's way before the arrival of Hurricane Irene last year. The MTA, who owns the fenced property, is now planning to build a ventilation plant on the site. This will involve the removal of the fence, but the memorial will live on: the tiles will be incorporated into the facade of the new building.
A 180-year-old private, gated park accessible only to those few who have keys — and the kind of place where you get scolded for eating a sandwich on the grass
