Reginald Pelham Bolton (left) and William Calver (right) in undated photo shot in Northern Manhattan.

“I chanced to visit an old inn near Fort George some years ago and I noticed a human skull that the proprietor kept among the bottles above his bar.  The man told me he had unearthed it, together with several swords and cannon balls, in his yard.  I offered to buy it, not caring much to see such a relic condemned to a saloon keeper’s shelf, but he angrily refused.  He growled that he wouldn’t sell a dead man’s remains if he should starve else.  I finally bought the weapons and he gave me the skull.”
-Reginald Pelham Bolton, 1904.

Much of what we know today about the history and pre-history of Inwood and Washington Heights is due largely to the turn of the century work of amateur historians, self taught archaeologists and close friends William Calver and Reginald Bolton.

Starting in the 1880′s Bolton and Calver began exploring northern Manhattan with picks and shovels, chronicling their discoveries along the way.

William Calver digging in shell midden.

Together, the two Victorian gentlemen, dressed in starched collars and neckties, followed subway digs, street grading projects and apartment building construction.  They were keenly interested in the relics often uncovered by the earth moving equipment and followed the work crews and elevated subway tracks that snaked ever northward through Washington Heights and Inwood.

Throughout the region they uncovered the remains of Native Americans, early Dutch settlers, Revolutionary soldiers and even slaves.  They also discovered ancient pottery, cannonballs and sometimes jewelry from another era.

Along the way, these two ordinary men, Calver worked for the IRT and Bolton was an engineer, became pioneers in the science of urban archeology.

On weekends, Botlon, Calver and a great cast of like-minded friends and amateur sleuths combed the hills, caves and construction projects of northern Manhattan before they were forever sealed under a vast carpet of brick and concrete.

Reginald Bolton seated in pit and William Calver to far right.

Families and children, picnic baskets in hand, often joined the diggers—sometimes witnessing gruesome discoveries.

While some criticized these amateur archeologists for their lack of formal training, their finds might have remained buried forever if not for their absolute devotion to the history of the region.

A blur of activity on Seaman Avenue.

Their love of the hunt is evident in the below poem found in the personal effects of William Calver, now housed in the archives of the New York Historical Society.

Poem discovered in the personal effects of the late William Calver.

The below article, published in 1904, describes the intrepid adventures of these “Godfathers” of Inwood history as they race to beat the developers.

New York Herald, August 4, 1904.

Relic Hunting in Northern Manhattan
New York Herald
August 4, 1904
RELIC HUNTING IN UPPER MANHATTAN
RECENT EXCAVATIONS IN WASHINGTON HEIGHS SECTION HAVE DISCLOSED FINE INDIAN—COLONIAL AND REVOLUTIONARY CURIOSITIES

New York Herald, August 4, 1904.

Pick and shovel within the boundaries of the city of New York suggest to you, the metropolitan resident of today, only commonplace apartment construction or the search for a refractory gas main; but it is entirely probable that the burrowing laborer is some antiquarian in search of the buried wealth of old New York.  A halo of romance and historic possibility surrounds the wielding of a spade and attends the removal of each handful of soil in certain parts of this wholly modernized Island of Manhattan.

Side by side with the plebeian digger of trenches the amateur investigator is at work.  Just ahead of the urban advance toward the northern limit of Harlem prowls the relic hunter.  He knows the ground to be rich in curious and valuable objects of historic interest, and he seeks to snatch them from their hiding places before the trampling foot of the gigantic city shall have made their recovery impossible.

Persons interested in historic research have come to regard the Washington Heights and Inwood district of New York as one of the most prolific sources of Indian, Colonial and Revolutionary relics in the country.

Affording excellent camping and fishing facilities for the aborigine tribes, the upper end of the island was long occupied by them.  Layers of shells, interspersed with weapons and implements, comparable to the “kitchen midden” heaps left by primeval European peoples, have been found, indicating the presence of large villages during many centuries.   Skeletons, pottery, pipes and ceremonial stones have been uncovered as well as hundreds of objects appertaining to domestic life and tribal customs that are of the greatest value to the historian.

During the Dutch occupation several houses were erected by squatters in this section, which were burned or destroyed before or at the time of the Revolutionary struggle.  Among the ruins of these homes have been found ornaments and utensils of iron, bone, brass, copper, pewter and gold, with parts of rare old china, glassware and handsome tiles.

New York Herald, August 4, 1904. (click on photo to enlarge)

Buttons, Bayonets and Skeletons

Most rich in diversity and in number are the discoveries belonging to the Revolutionary era, consisting chiefly of military paraphernalia and accoutrements. These include cannon, musket and pistol balls, swords, bayonets, camp debris, buttons, buckles, pipes, knives and the skeletons of British, Hessian and American troops.

Bolton and Calver at work in sketch from the New York Herald, August 4, 1904. (click on photo to enlarge)

Reginald P. Bolton, of No. 638 West 158^th street, and W.L. Calver, of No. 1,188 Hewitt place, the Bronx, are the leaders of the day excavators.  During the last ten years these gentlemen have patiently, if amateurishly, raked the soil, and the result is a collection that would amply stock a large museum.

Mr. Bolton tells an interesting story of the way in which his attention was first directed to the possibilities of excavation in his neighborhood.

“I chanced to visit an old inn near Fort George some years ago,” he said, “and I noticed a human skull that the proprietor kept among the bottles above his bar.  The man told me he had unearthed it, together with several swords and cannon balls, in his yard.  I offered to buy it, not caring much to see such a relic condemned to a saloon keeper’s shelf, but he angrily refused.  He growled that he wouldn’t sell a dead man’s remains if he should starve else.  I finally bought the weapons and he gave me the skull.”

Awake to the significance of this incident, Mr. Bolton began a systematic search for buried historic treasure through the section from 150^th street to Spuyten Duyvil Creek and between the Hudson and Harlem rivers.

Under the slope of Inwood Hill, which rises near the head of Manhattan, lies a plot of ground that has yielded a wealth of Indian material.  The cutting through of Seaman avenue some months ago brought to light a deep stratum of relics imbedded among the ashes of a thousand campfires.  Polished tomahawks of granite lay among delicately chipped arrowheads of flint and quartz.  A soapstone pipe, beautifully carved with the design of a human face, was found among wooden hoes and corn planters.  Near the skeleton of a dog lay several pieces of pottery, an amulet and a sacrificial stone, buried with solemn thanksgiving at the conclusion of some successful hunting expedition, when, it is entirely probable, a fat buck had been run down in the grove that is now Central Park.  Near this was found a banner stone, carried as an ensign in religious processions and regarded as a great rarity by modern collectors.  Scattered through the stratum were thousands of oyster shells.

In regard to the shells there arises an interesting point.  Among the piles of Colonial debris oyster shells are always found to be much larger than those of the Indian heaps.   This curious difference is laid to the superior fishing outfits of the Dutch, which enabled them to fish further from shore and capture the larger bivalves. Again, the site of Hessian camps is invariably marked by numbers of mussel shells, the Germans being the only ones who would eat those mollusks.  These details, seemingly trivial, have been of value in identifying localities.

Best of all the Indian discoveries was one made a short time ago by Mr. Calver.  In 181^st street, just below the level of the soil and partly protruding from the bank of a cutting, was an earthenware jar, more than a foot in height, the largest and most perfectly preserved object of the kind ever found on the Atlantic coast.  Its graceful contour marks it a fine example of the potter’s art.

Relics of New Amsterdam, with their intimate suggestions of our civic predecessors, take a deeper and more personal hold on the imagination of the discoverer.  From among the ruins of dwellings once occupied by the Dyckman and Nagle families have come picturesque hand forged kettles and the hooks and chains from which they hung above the hearth.  Well-preserved knives and forks have been brought to light and fishhooks and farming implements that have lain in the ground these two centuries.

Panes of leaded glass have turned up from the investigator’s spade.  Made in far Holland they were, and through them used to peer the sturdy faces of the burgher colonists. Hinges and braces of heavy shutters that swung before windows lay near by, reminders of the days when a man looked well to his residential defenses.

Near the banks of the Harlem a cresset was discovered, an iron frame that the pioneer was wont to fill with blazing tow when he bethought him of the joys of midnight fishing.

Idly watching a relic seeker near one of these ruined foundations of New Amsterdam some months ago, a young woman was moved to emulate his more laborious manipulation of a hoe with the point of her umbrella.  In a few minutes she has uncovered a finely painted Delft brooch.  Its preservation was perfect save for the setting and she is wearing it today.

New York Herald, August 4, 1904.

Fort Washington and the desperate all-day battle on October 27, 1776, that ended in its surrender to the British were rescued from oblivion by the discoveries and painstaking researches of these relic hunters.  The very existence of the fort had been forgotten and American chroniclers had either omitted the engagement altogether or confused it with the battle of Harlem Heights until several of the amateur pick swingers became interested and rewrote a chapter of our local history.  The movement they set on foot culminated in the erection of a magnificent tablet to the gallant 3,000 who held Fort Washington against 17,000 British and Hessians, with sea and land forces, for many hours before they were forced to yield.

Mapping minutely as they went, these investigators have reconstructed not only this campaign but also a considerable part of the British military movements during their occupation of Manhattan.  Examination of the regimental buttons and buckles found among the debris of camps showed them the disposition of the divisions of the forces.  Skeletons and scattered arms indicated skirmishes.  Fortifications, redoubts, batteries, sentry lines, camps and outposts have been traced and recorded.

Bullets for Dice

Connected with the life of the redcoats and Hessians in the camps and improvised barracks a number of rare relics have come to light.  Among the strewn litter of broken case bottles lay several sets of leaden bullets pounded square and marked for dice—to be set rattling against men’s pocketbooks instead of their ribs. Other bullets laboriously roughened and furrowed with a nail for the purpose of inflicting a more dangerous wound serve as a sharp contrast to the foregoing.

Clay pipes, scissors, pocket knives, Hessian pikes, bayonets that had been used for pokers and wood splinters, hand made pins, gun flints and musket locks were unearthed wherever the soldiers camped.

One of the commonest finds in these localities is the rusted frame of a jew’s-harp, giving rise to alluring if obvious reflections anent the tunes that once twanged from its mouldering jaws.  Perhaps, by the roaring fire some winter night, a violent partisan of the Georges entertained his mates with “The Vicar of Bray” through this bit of iron; or a stalwart Scot rendered “Auld King Coul” to the shouting accompaniment of the grenadiers. Yet again it may have sounded a song still sung by the hearths of Hesse Cassel.  It is no far-fetched conceit to say that some musical patriot made it voice “Yankee Doodle” after its owner discarded it on his final hasty flight to the Battery.

Regimental buttons form perhaps the most fascinating part of the military discoveries.  Diversity of size and design admit of the enthusiastic study of the hobbyist, and without descending below the class of an extreme rarity that they are found in quantities large enough to warrant several collections and the development of a button connoisseur.

One interesting result of the assemblage and identification of these buttons has been the revival of a point that is generally overlooked—the presence of many famous British regiments in Manhattan during the war.  Few persons know that the Forty-second, or Royal Highland regiment, world famous as the Black Watch, was encamped within the present city limits; but buttons they lost or discarded have shown such to have been a fact.   Here were also the Twenty-seventh Light Dragoons, now the Prince of Wales’ Hussars, better known as the “Death or Glory Boys,” the Thirty-third Infantry, The Royal Welsh Fusileers, and the Royal Artillery.  The Coldstream Guards and the Seventy-first Highlanders are other well-known regiments that were found to have camped in Harlem during part of the seven years’ occupation. Compilers of the history of British uniforms have received indispensable aid from the Washington Heights excavators.  Many of these buttons cannot be found outside of the local collections.

Victim of a Bar Shot

Military Relics Found Near Fort Washington, New York Herald, August 4, 1904.

Bar shot fired from British frigates during the battle of Fort Washington are occasionally unearthed on the banks of the Hudson.  It was customary to fill the space between the heads of the shot with long, heavy spikes, loosely tied with marlin (twine).  When the savage missile was discharged the spikes broke free and were set whirling in all directions.  A grim relic has recently come to light that strikingly illustrates the effectiveness of the loaded bar shot.

In a field under the bold rise of the forest was found a thigh bone, presumably that of a Continental soldier, one of the valiant three thousand.  Projecting from the bone and thoroughly imbedded in it was one of these iron spikes.  Although the impact that drove it there must have been terrific, the spike had not shattered the bone and the edges of the hole were smooth and level.  Marks of a saw showed that the leg had been amputated.

From time to time questions as to the final disposition of their valuable collection have been asked of the Washington Heights discoverers.  So far they have given nothing to the State Historical Society, although they frequently exhibit, a fine collection being now on view at the Jumel Mansion, Edgecombe road and 163^rd street.

There is a final detail in regard to the excavations that is worthy of note. Quantities of skeletons and parts of skeletons have come into the possession of the collectors.  These belong to every era of the American history and include even the bones dug from a long forgotten slave cemetery.  All of these remains are being carefully preserved. It is planned to inter them all beneath a suitable memorial, mingled as they are, friend and foe, freeman and thrall (slave).   The stone is to be dedicated to Indian, Hollander, Britisher, Hessian, Continental and negro—all who had a hand, however feeble, in shaping the destinies of the city of New York.

Inwood Chatter Cover, June 1943.

Not long ago I posted the contents of a June, 1943 issue of the “Inwood Chatter,” essentially a scrapbook put together by local schoolchildren and sponsored by local businesses.

While the topic of children living under the cloud of war is a fascinating topic, my attention eventually turned to the advertisement section at the back of the booklet.

What type of stores and businesses existed in the Inwood of 1943 AND what had taken their place when I revisited their former locations in the spring of 2012?

I hope these ads conjure up some memories from the old-timers out there.  Please feel free to share your own experiences in the area directly below this post.

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Here are a few photos I shot at the Inwood Farmer’s Market today, April 15, 2012.  The vendors and customers are out every Saturday morning year-round and today everyone found themselves enjoying the beautiful spring weather.

Below are a collection of real estate advertisements from ages past.  As both a real estate agent and fan of Inwood history, I found the below images fascinating.  If you’ve lived in any of these building and have stories to share, please feel free to comment in the space below the image box.

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Spring came early this year. In fact, the entire winter was mild. Here are a collection of photos shot around Inwood in March of 2012.

Lorrie Goulet poses in the Inwood Pottery Studios for a newspaper article about the impending closure of the Pottery.

Since launching Myinwood.net I have posted quite a bit on the Inwood Pottery Studios; which once occupied Inwood Hill Park. The pottery, the houseboat community, the idyllic setting of a nearly forgotten era has always fascinated me.

So, I was thrilled when I received an email from a former student of the Pottery named Lorrie Goulet. She wrote: “I was very happy to see this article. I was a student of Mrs. Voorhees from age seven to eleven. This was from 1932 to 1936. It was one of my happiest experiences. I was there when Mrs. Voorhees had to abandon her pottery.

I wrote a letter to Mayor LaGuardia asking him to give Mrs. Voorhees more time to move. He did give her three months more. Because of my time at the pottery, my life in art was very much influenced. I became a sculptor, and have never forgotten Mrs. Voorhees, my first teacher. I am now eighty-five years old, and still working!”

Equally thrilling was the writer’s own history.

After studying ceramics as a child in Inwood Hill Park, Lorrie Goulet went on to become an accomplished sculptor. Her carvings, in both stone and wood, have been exhibited in museums around the world.

She still works out of her West 20th Street studio; a studio she once shared with her late husband, fellow sculptor Jose de Creeft. Her husband’s Alice in Wonderland sculpture in Central Park is still a familiar and popular sight with children an adults alike.

Lorrie Goulet and her late husband Jose de Creeft.

Extending a gracious invitation, Lorrie allowed myself and fellow Inwood history sleuth Don Rice into her workspace to discuss her childhood growing up on 218th Street–just steps away from the pottery works.

Together we recorded this fascinating oral history from an Inwood of long ago.  Many thanks to Lorrie Goulet for sharing her memories with us, and now, with you:

For more information on the old Inwood Pottery Studios, click on the below links:

Inwood Pottery Studio

Inwood Arts Pioneer: Aimee Le Prince Voorhees

A Potter’s Lament

Myself and New Heights Realty colleague Steve Stampleman were interviewed by Lou Young of CBS News in the wake of the house fire on 217th Street.

Take a look:

I was awakened by screams in the middle of the night to discover one of the houses on 217th Street was on fire.  I shot this video of the blaze from my roof.  My prayers go out to those who have lost their home.  I am elated to learn that everyone made it out safely.

And still more video…

529 West 217th Street before the fire.

Another shot of the house before the fire

Aftermath of Fire on 207th and Broadway (photo taken: January 4, 2012)

A massive fire ripped through a building on 207th and Broadway last night.  Above are before and after photos of the devastation.

For news and additional photos click on this news link from DNAInfo.com.

As summer winds down, I thought it might be fun to share a photo of an old swimming hole that used to be a source of great fun and entertainment near the turn of the last century.  The area, on the bank of the Hudson River at  Dyckman Street was called the “Inwood Bathing Beach.”   This not so little oasis in those days before air conditions was one of several installations to dot the local waterways during the summer months.

Inwood Bathing Beach, NY Tribune, July 15, 1906

According to the 1906 account from the New York Herald, “A novel resort far uptown on Manhattan Island is the Inwood Bathing Beach, at Dyckman (206th) street and the Hudson River. The clean sandy beach, the fine stretch of water and the bathing houses have combined to make this especially popular. It is only three minutes walk from the Broadway cars and there are accommodations for 1,500 persons at a time. A lifesaving crew is at hand for the protection of bathers, and swimming masters afford instruction to those who are not competent swimmers. Boats may be secured for rowing, and refreshments are served in the pavilion.”

For the curious: The building in the upper right of the photo is the original Jewish Memorial Hospital.

Tubby Hook today

"Portrait of a Monster," by Inwood resident Cole Thompson and co-author Lisa Pulitzer.

For much of the past year while writing histories of Northern Manhattan, and co-hosting History night at the Indian Road Cafe, I’ve also been working on a true crime book based on the case of Joran van der Sloot. Van der Sloot, you might remember, remains a suspect in the May 30, 2005 disappearance of Alabama teen Natalee Holloway as well as May 30, 2010 murder of Stephany Flores in Lima, Peru.

For this project I spent part of last summer in Lima, spending time with Peruvian police and getting to know the most recent victim’s family. The research paid off. Peruvian investigators took a shine to myself and co-author Lisa Pulitzer and gave us full access to the investigation. (That’s right, she’s a real Pulitzer)

On July 5th, our book, titled Portrait of a Monster will finally be released.

So far, the book is getting wonderful reviews; Publisher’s Weekly calls it “…well-detailed…disturbing and haunting…” The New York Post also gave the book extensive coverage over the weekend.

My newest creation, I also co-authored a New York Times #1 bestseller on the Scott and Laci Peterson case with former Court TV host Catherine Crier, is available for purchase on Amazon. It contains exclusive details which may surprise even those who have carefully followed the case.

I hope you’ll pick up a copy through Amazon or your favorite bookstore. I would also be honored to sign copies for anyone who’s interested. Most of my devoted readers know where to find me, but you can always send me a message through the website.

Thank you for your continued support.  -Cole

In 1928, Inwood, as we know it, was coming into its own. With two subway trains having now reached the neighborhood, families with children flocked to the area. At the time the entire region was a blur of activity. New apartment buildings were rising almost daily both east and west of Broadway. With low rents and plenty of parkland, Inwood was an ideal choice for many middle income families. In this below article from a 1928 edition of the New York Sun we watch as the students of P.S. 52 learn about ecology.

PS 52 kids from Jan 17, 1928 New York Sun Article

The text of the article reads:

“P.S. 52, Manhattan, recently displayed a collection of nature study material representing the projects of about sixty classes and 2,500 pupils.  Emphasis was given to the plant and animal life of Inwood and to the rock formation that pupils see.

Special exhibits were a clay model of Isham Park by class 5A5; an irrigation system by class 6B5; a seashore scene by class 2A1, and Japanese gardens by class 2A4.

The four walls of the gymnasium were covered with charts on which were mounted specimens collected by the pupils. Many showed the stages of development of raw material into products of daily use.  The work has brought to light the exceptional ability of some children in art.”

207 Dyckman Street

On Dyckman Street, just east of Broadway, sit twin buildings dating back to the turn of the century.  They represent the very beginning of the housing boom in Inwood.  With colorful maroon and beige columns marking their entryways, the buildings are difficult to miss.  It is hard to imagine the buildings set amid a quiet country backdrop, but that’s just what early residents came home to every evening.

The following description comes from an advertisement in the May 24, 1907 edition of the New York Sun:

“Country Quiet and Pure Air in the City!

A TENANT WRITES: “Driven from the city by noise and dirt, I sought relief in the country–along the Hudson and Sound, and in New Jersey–but nothing desirable could be found that did not cost more (everything considered) than on the upper west side.  Then I tried Washington Heights, where among scores of new apartments none was found without some drawback–chiefly inconvenient arrangement of rooms and absence of quiet.  Finally, I reached Dyckman Street station on subway.  Two blocks west I found two apartment houses built on lines of common-sense and refinement. Dyckman Street runs into the Speedway on the east and connects with the beautiful Lafayette Boulevard on the west, where it connects with old Broadway, two minutes from the Hudson.

209 and 207 Dyckman Street today.

The buildings standing alone in the distance on Dyckman Street in 1904, Source: Museum of the City of New York

The apartments face south on the finest piece of greenery in Manhattan–primeval rocks and trees forming Mount Washington.  To the west they adjoin Inwood (a thickly wooded hill interspersed with handsome country residences) and the Hudson and western Palisades.  All this is only 25 minutes to City Hall, but QUIET COUNTRY REIGNS, one gets a seat every time and there is no change of cars or ferries and no long walk or double fares.  All subway trains are express.  The Amsterdam Avenue and Broadway (Kingsbridge) cars pass within half a block.  School house one block away.  Van Cortlandt Park is reached in ten minutes–golf, skating and all seasonable sports.  The apartments are perfectly arranged, good sized rooms; extra large kitchens and bath rooms; no dark corners; abundant closet room; halls, stairways, rooms all decorated with a degree of good taste and refinement rarely found among builders.  I prefer the apartment I selected to one I occupied for several years on Central Park West in the nineties, and yet it costs me one third less.”

209 Dyckman Street today

The apartments are especially suited for professional people, and will prove a boon to those who appreciate quietness and cleanness, combined with accessibility to the city and its conveniences and pleasures.

The Solano and Monida Apartments 207 and 209 Dyckman Street, corner of Broadway: six and seven room suites: moderate rents.  Take subway to Dyckman Street station and walk west two blocks; or Amsterdam Avenue cars, transferring to Broadway and Kingsbridge Road line.

M. McCORMACK CONSTRUCTION COMPANY, OWNER ON PREMISES.

NY Sun, May 24, 1907

Solano and Monida Apartment Ad, New York NY Sun, Nov. 4, 1904

If you have lived in these buildings and have any stories to share, I encourage you to write in below:

Arthur Guiterman

Our suburbs are under the plow,
Our scaffolds are raw in the sun;
We’re drunk and disorderly now,
BUT—
‘Twill be a great place when it’s done

-Arthur Guiterman, “New York,” “Ballads of Old New York”, 1920

To say that Arthur Guiterman was one of the most prolific and talented poets of his generation would be somewhat of an exaggeration. In truth, the previous sentence is a complete misrepresentation of fact.

But what God given writing talent Guiterman lacked, he made up for in sheer volume.  From the turn of the century until his death in 1943 Guiterman churned out more than a dozen volumes of popular verse geared towards the undiscriminating masses.

For example: In a poem about dinosaurs, published in a 1918 collection called The Mirthful Lyre, Guiterman wrote,

The Great Tyrannosaurus
Lived centuries ago;
Through marshes wet and porous
He rambled to and fro.

A true working writer, Guiterman never sought, nor deserved, critical acclaim.  For Guiterman, it was all about the paycheck.  In a surprisingly candid 1915 New York Times interview he said, “The poet must be influenced by the demand.  There is inspiration in the demand.  Besides the material reward, the poet who is influenced by the demand has the encouraging, inspiring knowledge that he is writing something that people want to read.”

Guiterman encouraged the struggling writer to abandon all lofty literary notions and focus on humorous verse. Then, according to Guiterman, “He should look up publishers of holiday cards, and submit to them, Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter verses, for which he would receive about five dollars apiece.”

Guiterman’s main advice to the starving artist was tried and true—write for others, but also choose personally inspiring subject matter.   For Guiterman, time after time, Inwood would provide that inspiration.

In Guiterman’s 1920 collection, Ballads of Old New York, he included verse on the naming of Tubby Hook, the mysteries of the Spuyten Duyvil and, in poem after poem, rhyming histories of Inwood’s founding family—The Dyckmans.

My personal favorite is his tribute to the still standing Dutch Colonial-style Dyckman Farmhouse which today is preserved in the form of a museum on 204^th Street and Broadway.

THE DYCKMAN HOUSE

Plain as the brass of an old sword-hilt
Is the tale of the house that the Dyckmans built

In Charles the Second’s jovial reign,
Jan, the first of the Dyckman strain,
Fair-haired, ruddy, strong, and shrewd’
Cleared the soil, and his hearty brood
Killed the wolves in their rocky lairs,
Turned the loam with iron shares.

Full a hundred years had fled;
Well the Dyckman race had sped;
Sweet their orchards, broad their farms
When Freedom called true men to arms.
They nursed no doubts of the need of force;
They did their part as a thing of course.
Forth they sallied, boy and man.
William, head of the Dyckman clan,
Took the field, and his three good sons
Marched along with their flintlock guns—
Abraham bold and Michael keen
And Blithe young William, aged thirteen.

Through the war and its changing tides
The Dyckmans fought in the gallant Guides.
Their chronicles may still be found
In the blood-stained roll of the Neutral Ground,
And yellowed, time-worn records tell
How sturdy Abraham Dyckman fell,
Raiding the camp of De Lancey’s corps,
And how young William paid that score.

Peace at last!—In full retreat
Sounded the tramp of alien feet
Quitting the isle we love;–and then
The Dyckmans came to their own again.
But the camping foe had left their land
Bare as the back of a baby’s hand.
Waste was the fields and the orchards, too;
Burned was the home in which they grew.

The Dyckman breed were men of force;
They took their task as a thing of course.
Again they plowed their wasted leas,
Again they set their orchard trees;
With toughened timbers, marked by fire,
From tumbled barn and ruined byre,
They raised the framework, strongly planned,
Of this old house. Long may it stand
A monument for coming years
Of the last of the flower of pioneers.

For in this brave old house survives
The lesson blazed by its builder’s lives:

“Be true; and keep, whate’er befall,
The faith that each man owes to all.
Be strong; for strength shall purge you clear
Of all mean hatreds born of Fear.
Then, should the years that hither press
Bring other days of storm and stress,
A race of clean-limbed, clear-eyed men
Shall look the world in the face again.”

The Dyckman House

Today, around 2:15,  I stepped out  into the fine spring air for a quick stroll. Noticing smoke rising from Cooper Street, I dashed back to the New Heights Realty office and borrowed Rob Kleinbardt’s camera.

Firemen were already on the scene as I approached–smashing windows, dousing flames and helping residents escape the smoke billowing from their apartment building.

According the Manhattan Times, the source of the fire was a dropped candle.

Thank you Ladder 36.  Seeing you in action was nothing short of amazing.

If you haven’t been outside, or are in some far away land such as Argentina, I thought you might like to see some of the splendor of Spring 2010…Inwood style.  Hope you enjoy the slideshow.

While last week’s blizzard missed upper Manhattan, today’s snowstorm really clobbered us.  Some reports even say we’re in the middle of another blizzard.  It certainly feels like it.

A special thanks to Jimmy, a Park Terrace Gardens porter, for cutting it up in what is becoming a MyInwood tradition.

See last year’s “Inwood Snow Day” here.

Happy Holidays Inwood.  It is chilly outside, so bundle up as you make your way to your various festivities.

And what would the season be without a few memories of yesteryear?

The following photos were taken on Broadway near Academy Street in December of 1925. The city was entering its fifth year of Prohibition and the Great Depression was just around the corner.

Sure the times were a bit different, but the tradition of a Christmas tree stand on Broadway has changed very little since these photos were taken some eighty-five years ago.

Christmas tree stand on Broadway near Academy in 1925

Of course I imagine the prices have gone up just a wee bit since 1925.

Broadway south of 207th Street this holiday season.

Still worried about Prohibition?   No P.J.’s Wine and Liquors you say?

In September of 1922 Federal prohibition agents raided the Arras Inn on 4928 Broadway where they found 120 bottles of beer. Summonses were issued for owner Paul Boehn and waiter John Cronan.

1920′s Christmas tree shoppers and sellers alike could drop into the Arras Inn on 207th and Broadway, or any number of speakeasy clubs in the neighborhood, to share a discreet pint of holiday cheer.

An infamous speakeasy: The Arras Inn on 207th and Broadway

So hoist a glass of whatever suits you.  Here’s  wishing you and  yours a happy holiday.

Every Halloween ghosts and goblins haunt the streets, parks and apartment buildings of Inwood–just as they have for hundreds of years.

It is a spooky place where the spirit of a long dead magician might bump into the specter of a headless Hessian, where a Dutch trumpeter fights with the devil himself and cries from disturbed graves are heard by the living.

This October, the most frightening month of the year, MyInwood presents several scary tales from the past.

Cemeteries of Yesteryear It’s hard to imagine an Inwood with mansions on the hill, a dirt road below, and just east of that cemeteries….yep….Cemeteries.
Hundreds of years of even sparse population generated numerous graves. In some lay the long forgotten members of once famous families. In other plots,the fallen dead of the Revolutionary War; even Indians.

Houdini’s Ghost Every Halloween, the anniversary of Harry Houdini’s death, his widow Bess held a seance.
This Halloween, listen to a recording of the final 1936 seance and discover The Houdini Inwood Connection.  Would you believe Bess Houdini lived right here on Payson Avenue?

A Turn of the Century School for the Occult Occultism was all the rage near the turn of the century. Join us as we explore the fascinating and macabre world of Ernest Loomis and his Inwood School of Philosophy. It is a bone chilling ride into another dimension.   His book, “Practical Occultism,” was published here in Inwood near the turn of the century.

The Inwood House of Mercy Finally, choose a cell in Inwood’s haunted old House of Mercy. The institution had a past so dark and scary that the ghosts of its former residents haunt Inwood Hill Park to this very day.

The next time you pass through Isham Park you’ll likely notice a stump where a massive Norway Maple used to stand.

Sadly, the towering giant was diseased and needed to come down. In true Inwood fashion, the tree felling quickly became a neighborhood event. As sawdust flew from up high, city workers and curious neighbors were given an impromptu lesson in tree surgery.

World champion tree climber Mark Chisholm gave a running commentary from a wireless microphone from his tree-top perch.   Swinging from a rope, chainsaw in hand, Chisholm explained the obvious and not so obvious risks of his often hazardous trade.

Take a look.