The name is supposed to sound vaguely Danish, and the cartons once featured a map of southern Scandinavia, but this ice cream company was born right here in da Bronx, and "Häagen-Dazs" is just a bunch of jibberish that means as little in any Nordic language as it does in English. In fact, the umlaut and the digraph "zs" do not even exist in Danish!

I've probably seen around 400 of these things by now, and I still have absolutely no clue who puts them up.

Virgil is hardly the only representative of Greco-Roman antiquity out here on the streets of Castle Hill. His companions include Homer (Avenue), Cincinnatus (Avenue), Caesar (Place), and Cicero (Avenue). According to John McNamara's History in Asphalt, these roadways were given their classical appellations by an early 20th-century realtor named Solon L. Frank.

Nearly a century ago, in 1914 or 1915, the southernmost stretch of the Bronx River, seen here from the shore of Soundview Park, stood in for the frigid north Atlantic during the shooting of a film re-enactment of the Titanic disaster. According to our old friend John McNamara:

Carpenters built a realistic hull of the transatlantic liner, complete to portholes and lifeboats, which was then anchored in the river. Extras were hired, provided they knew how to swim, and the final touch was a replica of an iceberg — a jagged combination of wood and canvas, painted a dazzling white, that was towed past the Titanic.

Actual filming was done at night under flares and arc-lights, and Hunts Pointers on shore watched the extras diving and jumping overboard, the repeated scenes of life-boats being lowered, and the sinking of the big ship. This last was accomplished by having the Titanic collapse in horizontal sections until the funnels were at waterlevel. The scenes were shot over and over again, until the wet actors and actresses shook with cold despite the mild weather.

Unloved by the neighbors, just like its poor brother over at Spring Creek

Probably closer to four gallons now, actually.

The original wing of this house dates back to the late 18th century.

STOP

The LIRR's Port Washington Branch wreaks topographical havoc at its crossing of the Clearview Expressway.