‘Tis The Season: O Come!
This image hails from St. Francis of Paola on Conselyea Street. (The same folks who brought us the good news about knee mail.)
Miss Heather
The Pickleville Pugilist
Last week we learned about what life was like in Greenpoint’s very own Dangertown. Today we will explore (albeit tangentially) another colorfully nicknamed part of the Garden Spot (and beyond): Pickleville. Where was “Pickleville” located, you ask? The Eighteenth Ward, e.g.; the sliver of Greenpoint and “East Williamsburg” roughly contained within Meeker Avenue*, Flushing Avenue, Newtown Creek and Bushwick Avenue (as seen on the map to the left). Why was this area called Pickleville? My educated guess is because there was once a rather substantial German immigrant population in this area (just look at some of the street names and you’ll see their legacy). So much for ethnic sensitivity. But I digress.
This post is about one very special Pickleville resident. Her name was Gussie Freeman — but the Brooklyn Daily Eagle preferred to call her the “the slasher of the rope walks.” A typical turn-of-the-century housefrau Ms. Freeman most decidedly was not. You can learn more about how her claim to fame (or infamy) by reading this article dating from November 22, 1891. Enjoy!
Female boxers in north Brooklyn, who knew? This post goes out to you Gussie (“the Gouger”, “Limpy Sal” & company). You make me proud to be a Greenpointer!
Miss Heather
*Namesake of the Meeker Avenue plume which the New York Times expounds upon in today’s edition. I could have told them people were unwilling to have their homes tested for fear it would affect their property values and saved them a trip. Oh well…
Map Credit: www.bklyn-genealogy-info.com
Boobification Photo Du Jour: Dion
Filed under: Manhattan
From Mott Street.
Miss Heather
Manhattan Photos Du Jour: I <3 The East Village
St. Mark’s Place
East 9th Street
East 11th Street
Union Square
Third Avenue
Miss Heather
Williamspoint Video Du Jour: Time Lapse Crap
mugsniffer (the creator of the previous video) writes:
This is a short time-lapse of the obnoxious EDGE building in Williamsburg taken from my apartment window in Greenpoint, Brooklyn… It spans approximately 12 hours, as my camera battery conked out and I don’t have a power supply yet to keep it running any longer.
God am I grateful I do not have to look at THAT every day!
Miss Heather
Dysfunction Junction: Crosstown Local Co-Dependency
I have often wondered why the MTA does not host “meet your station manager” days for the Crosstown Local (as they do for other subway lines like our tonier sister the L). Initially I chalked this up to the Transit Authority’s desire not to have their employees screamed at and pommeled with brickbats by a very angry public. Last night at Metropolitan Avenue, however, I finally learned the truth: the very G train itself is more than happy to field inquiries from concerned commuters. What’s more, this four car wonder will put it in writing!
Behold the Crosstown Local wailing wall. It is located at the southern end of the Smith – 9th bound platform.
Dear G Train
Well sorry about those things i said about you last week
But the thing is, you are never here for me Seriously why? Please please
come here pick me up, be there for me? is that (so much to ask?)
-love
Gutter
REPLY
Dear Gutter:
I don’t have much time, but you should know that whenever I’m here, you’re not. And when you’re home I’m out, scouring the old paths – looking for you. I’ll always be here on my way there. Where will you be?
Love, G.
OH YEAH…
You only come see me when you need a ride.
Stop using me, freeloader!
Gutter/Other
G train- You’re A Slut! Give anyone A RIDE!
Oy vey. Where is Doctor Phil when you need him?
Miss Heather
*As sponsored by HSBC because different values make the world a richer place penis!
Boobification Photo Du Jour: Seizure Time Bowl
Arguing. That’s what the Mister and I did yesterday. First it was where to eat. Next it was how to get there. Then it was taking a cab versus subway to meet my friend for her birthday soiree at the Leisure Time* bowling alley in the bowels of the Port Authority. We took a cab and I lost my cell phone. Nonetheless I still had a good time.
DO NOT CROSS FOUL LINE!
Conditioner beyond the foul line is slippery. Report abnormal
conditions to the front desk person.
Indeed.
Miss Heather
*Where one person in our party was nearly given the Midnight Express treatment for smuggling in a bag of pretzels. I am not kidding.
‘Tis The Season: Styrofoam Dreams
It would appear that erecting a manger is so prohibitively expensive in Greenpoint nowadays it necessitates selling air rights for high rises. I wonder if former city councilman, failed pretender to the Brooklyn Boro Presidency, Libertarian, despoiler of north Brooklyn and all-round real estate whiz lobbyist, Ken Fisher, is behind this arrangement? If it worked for Ismael Leyva, surely we can spare a little FAR Jesus of Nazareth!
Miss Heather
Brooklyn Photo du Jour: Alphabet City
Filed under: Area 51
From Smith Street.
Miss Heather
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