RISE & FALL OF THE STUYVESANT CLOWN (1895)
******************************************************************************************************************************* Brownstone Detectives investigates the history of our clients’ homes. The story you are about to read was composed from research conducted in the course of one of those investigations. Do you know the history of YOUR house? ******************************************************************************************************************************* Back in the early 1890s, in Stuyvesant Heights, there were clowns everywhere. Roaming and squeezing their little horns, making sad, droopy faces, and generally miming mischief. And everyone came to see them at Halsey Street and Saratoga where they paid a nickel a person to get in. Life for the clowns existed there for at least 20 years, until one day it all came to a halt. The developers had arrived and were threatening the home of the clown, threatening his very existence. BROOKLYN EXPANDS TO BUSHWICK By the mid-1890s, three blocks in the furthest reaches of the Eastern District’s Stuyvesant Heights had surprisingly remained untouched by speculative progress. While feverish land purchasing and selling had gone on all around this valuable real estate for the previous ten or so years, these dusty plots of land would continue to sit like the vestiges of the past that they were – unused farm land. Eventually, though, this land would be put to use by a bunch of clowns – the lots would begin, in 1891, to be referred to as the “circus grounds,” as traveling circuses and shows would begin annually to rent the land for their high profile extravaganzas. But the reign of the Stuyvesant Clown would be relatively short as, […]
THE COP, THE VIRUS, & THE PARROT (1930)
******************************************************************************************************************************** Brownstone Detectives investigates the history of our clients’ homes. The story you are about to read was composed from research conducted in the course of one of those investigations. Do you know the history of YOUR house? ******************************************************************************************************************************** One night in January of 1930, a recent NYPD Academy graduate, Officer Charles Suss, was patrolling his beat at Macon Street and Howard Avenue. “Six nights he has tramped his frosty beat in the cold hours between midnight and 8 a.m.,” the New York Times reported. “Six nights he has tramped his beat aimlessly, hoping for something to happen.” But then, as now, rookie cops got the worst time shifts. Also, Macon and Howard, according to the Times, was “a far removed section of Brooklyn” that was “apparently devoid of crimes. “There was only silence and a little rain.” But at 5 o’clock on that frosty January morning “Suss and his still brightly varnished stick swung down Howard Avenue. “The patrolman, as usual, was brooding on crime,” the Times claimed. “He had just decided that the girl he was rescuing would have light hair and blue eyes. In another moment they would be in the Marriage License Bureau at the Municipal Building.” But then came a “cry from the middle of Saratoga Park.” “Hello, Jake,” it cried. “Help! Help!” “Suss and his club streamed into the thin bushes of the park, guided by the racket and the calls for help. Suss remembered his undergraduate days and what he had been told […]
A JUNGLE MARCHED THRU BED-STUY (1900)
******************************************************************************************************************************** Brownstone Detectives investigates the history of our clients’ homes. The story you are about to read was composed from research conducted in the course of one of those investigations. Do you know the history of YOUR house? ******************************************************************************************************************************** The grey mastodons pounded threateningly down Howard Avenue past the gloomy darkness of Saratoga Square Park. Lumbering slowly around the corner onto Macon Street, they let forth a great trumpeting roar, swaying rhythmically to and fro. As their long, great shadows danced menacingly on the canopy of the park’s trees, cast vaguely by the faint light of the omnipresent red and green flickering colored torches, they presented a terrifying and foreign spectacle. Hundreds of small boys darted in and out of the gathering throngs to view the intimidating beasts, instilling in the air a noticeably heightened excitement which spread further and further down the block, as the presence of these creatures became known. As these majestic monsters moved towards 738 Macon Street, they let out their crushing roar which now could be felt more by the bones than by the ears. A great moan of excited joy leapt, in a synchronized response, from the lips of the visually excited crowd as each and every person lining the Macon Street parade route viewed the very first elephants. As the grey forms, dabbled in red and green light, diminished in size on their trek towards Ralph Avenue, they were replaced by the great humpbacked dromedaries with their inartful steps and studied looks of […]
THE CAT MAN OF GWINNET STREET (1896)
******************************************************************************************************************************** Brownstone Detectives investigates the history of our clients’ homes. The story you are about to read was composed from research conducted in the course of one of those investigations. Do you know the history of YOUR house? ******************************************************************************************************************************** Haasen-pfeffer is a German dish best served hot. A traditional German rabbit stew, it was brought over to the US by immigrants. (Hase is German for “hare,” and pfeffer is German for “black pepper.”) Although rabbits are the chief ingredient in the old-world dish, German immigrants in the early days of the country would often substitute squirrels. But never cats. Until Herman Fritsch appeared on the scene in Williamsburg in 1896. THE CAT MAN OF GWINNET STREET The locals were first alerted to the possible rabbit substitute in their stews when several neighbors heard a terrible racket occurring one night at Fritsch’s home, 168 Gwinnett Street (now Lorimer Street). As the neighbors listened, they began to hear a horrible howling coming from his rooms above a liquor store. They thought the cries sounded like “the screams of a child or woman in distress.” A consultation amongst several of the neighbors quickly took place, after which they decided that “murder was surely being committed in Fritsch’s apartments.” So Officer Lang of the Clymer Street Station was called for. While the neighbors waited, though, there was a last despairing shriek. And then all was still. OFFICER LANG ON THE JOB By the time Officer Lang arrived, “not a sound was heard” within the […]
HOW CASEY THE COP SPELT “KOSCIUSZKO” (1904)
******************************************************************************************************************************** Brownstone Detectives investigates the history of our clients’ homes. The story you are about to read was composed from research conducted in the course of one of those investigations. Do you know the history of YOUR house? ******************************************************************************************************************************** Andrzej Tadeusz Bonawentura Kościuszko was a Polish military officer who helped the U.S. to gain independence from the British during the Revolutionary War. Because of his dedication there are numberous public locations named after him – including a street in Bed-Stuy. Even more numerous, though, are the tales about the difficulty in spelling the man’s name. The best tale, though, involves a tail – and a horse and a policeman. SPELLING KOSCIUSZKO “There was once an Irish policeman who was responding to the presence of a dead horse on Kosciuszko Street. Upon arriving at the scene of the dead horse, Casey began to write his report. When he got to the part where he was supposed to write the location in which the horse was discovered, the policeman faltered. “He did not know how to spell the street name. “So, Casey looked at the horse and then at his report, and he thought. A few moments later, he shoved the half-finished report in his cap, grabbed the horse by its tail, and began dragging it down the street to the corner of Marcy Avenue. Once there, he stopped, pulled the report out from his cap, and added the ‘location’ of the dead horse – ‘Marcy Avenue.’” By the way, back in […]
