The Aerial Views of Robert Moses

By the late 1950s, Robert Moses, the legendary “power broker,” was at the peak of his decades-long career in public service. He served, simultaneously, as Commissioner of the Department of Parks, City Construction Coordinator, Chairman of the Mayor’s Committee on Slum Clearance, Commissioner on the City Planning Commission, Chairman of the Triborough Bridge and Tunnel Authority, Chairman of the New York State Council of Parks, President of the Long Island State Park Commission, and Chairman of the Power Authority of the State of New York. 

New York Midtown Skyline View south (Lincoln Center), November 1955. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Municipal Archives collection of records created by Moses as Parks Department Commissioner, described in an earlier For the Record article, documents not just city parks, but also the highways, bridges, tunnels, housing projects, playgrounds, and beaches he constructed. It includes information about the Lincoln Center complex, the United Nations’ building, the New York Coliseum, Shea Stadium and both the 1939 and 1964 New York World’s Fairs.

This week, For the Record highlights aerial photographic views in the Parks Department collection. Moses contracted with commercial photographers for the aerial views. Images in the collection date to the 1930s, the samples below are from the mid-to-late 1950s when Moses’ portfolio had expanded beyond parks to all of the other construction projects. The photographers flew in planes over the city and used large-format cameras.  The original negatives were scanned at high resolution. All of the images can be viewed in the Municipal Archives Gallery.  

These spectacular images show New York from above in its thriving post-War years when the old city was giving way to the new.

Orchard Beach, Pelham Bay Park, Bronx, 1956. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Midtown Manhattan (Lincoln Center), 1955. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

West Park Title 1 Housing, March 14, 1956. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Soundview Park and Throgs Neck Expressway, June 12, 1957. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Mid-Harlem and City College, June 12, 1957. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Penn Station South Slum Clearance, June 12, 1957. (Note strut from airplane wing in upper left.) Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Battery Park, June 12, 1957. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Corlears Hook Park, November 3, 1958. (Note car float in East River.) Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

East River Park , Title 1 housing, November 3, 1958. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Washington Square South-East, November 3, 1958. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

George Washington Bridge (not yet double-decked) and Harlem Speedway, November 1958. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Bruckner Expressway, November 1958. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Brooklyn-Queens Expressway progress, November 1958. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Harlem River, Major Deegan Expressway and Yankee Stadium, November 17, 1953. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Throgs Neck Expressway, November 1958. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Long Island Expressway, looking west from Cross Island Parkway, November 1958. Department of Parks photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Perseverence: Gertrude Ederle Swims the English Channel

New Yorkers are known for their perseverance. During the hot summer months, residents have endured polluted waters, jellyfish, riptides, lifeguard shortages, and most recently, shark attacks, when searching for somewhere to enjoy a cooling swim. On August 27, 1926, almost one century ago, the city celebrated the perseverance of 19-year-old New York-native Gertrude Ederle, for swimming across the English Channel. Her 14-hour, 31- minute time beat the five previous successful crossings, all made by men, and was not bested until 1964. Ederle’s accomplishment inspired countless female athletes and brought her world-wide fame, far greater that the accolades she received for winning three swimming medals in the 1924 Olympics.   

Invitation to Banquet at Commodore Hotel, September 1, 1926. Mayor’s Committee on Receptions to Distinguished Guests Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Soon after news of Ederle’s swimming triumph in England on August 6th reached the city, Mayor James Walker asked Grover Whalen, Chairman of the Mayor’s Committee on Receptions to Distinguished Guests, to welcome her home with a ticker-tape parade. While not credited with inventing the ticker-tape parade, Whalen perfected the unique New York-celebration and presided over some of the most iconic parades for notable achievements—most famously, Lindbergh’s transatlantic flight in 1927. 

Ticker-tape parades may appear spontaneous, i.e. the honored guest rides in an open limousine up Broadway from the Battery to City Hall for an official welcome by the Mayor, showered by shredded paper and confetti (or in the pre-digital age, ticker-tape), along the way. Examining Whalen’s records shows that staging a ticker-tape parade was anything but spontaneous. The Municipal Archives collections include the files Grover Whalen created during his multi-decade career as the City’s official greeter. The eight folders generated for the Gertrude Ederle celebration are a good example.  

After receiving the green-light from Mayor Walker, Whelan assembled a committee with representatives from city departments (Police, Fire, Docks, Street Cleaning, and Plant & Structures), news media, and people from organizations relevant to the honored guest. For Ederle, this included many athletic clubs and groups such as the New York Athletic Club, Millrose Athletic Club, and the Women’s Swimming Association.  

Letter to Grover Whalen, Chairman Mayor’s Reception Committee, from Women’s Swimming Association, August 20, 1926. Mayor’s Committee on Receptions to Distinguished Guests Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Although Whalen and his committee could take advantage of the several-day ocean voyage before Ederle returned to America, they needed to move quickly. He summoned committee members by telegram and held the first meeting on Monday, August 23. The “Minutes of the Meeting” are included in his files. Whalen opened the meeting: “We have come together this afternoon on a very interesting and, I am sure, a very pleasing occasion – to plan for the welcome of one of New York’s own…”.   But then he added, “I am sure that we all feel very proud of Gertrude, and we call her by her first name because we feel that she is very close to us and because she has done so much to make us realize that after all young womanhood today [is] not giving all of its time to smoking and drinking.” The surviving records do not say what prompted that statement.   

Whalen then turned to the purpose of the meeting and noted that the U.S. Treasury Department had kindly consented to “permit Miss Gertrude Ederle and party to leave the S. S. Berengaria at quarantine” and bypass immigration protocols.   

Gertrude Ederle, at center standing behind her father (with flag) and mother aboard the Macom, August 27, 1926, photographer: Eugene de Salignac. Department of Bridges Plant & Structure photograph collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Whalen’s files show that within two days he and the committee had finalized a timeline for the event on August 27.  It would begin at 9 a.m. when the committee and members of the Ederle family were instructed to assemble at Pier A, and board the steamer “Macon,” [a city-owned vessel]. By 10 a.m. they expected to tie up alongside the S.S. Berengaria, bring Ederle aboard the Macon, and return to the Battery for the start of the parade at 11:45. The procession would reach City Hall by 12:15, and after the formal ceremonies, hosted by the Mayor, “Miss Ederle will be escorted to her home on Amsterdam Avenue.” The following week, on September 1, Mayor Walker planned a formal dinner at the Commodore hotel for Ederle, her family and invited guests.  

Whalen’s correspondence includes a letter from Charles A. Oberwager, President of the United German Societies of the City of N.Y. Mr. Oberwager was also apparently a City Magistrate and used his official stationery for the correspondence. Oberwager wrote: “The German Americans of New York City are keyed up to the highest pitch; their enthusiasm for Miss Gertrude Ederle of New York knows no bounds and thousands of men and women are eagerly awaiting the moment to greet her upon her arrival here and to cheer her to the echo.” He then listed no less than fifteen special “requests” such as, “. . . if in or about the City Hall there should be decorations containing flags of foreign nations, that the German flag be also displayed.” And, “. . . a number of ladies, not more than twenty-four, be permitted to wear sport caps, black skirts and white sweaters.” 

A carbon copy of Whalen’s response is also in the file. Whalen politely acknowledged Oberwager’s enthusiasm but also let him know that “. . . We plan to welcome Miss Ederle . . . first as an American citizen and secondly as a New York girl whose marvelous achievement in conquering the English Channel has brought to her country, her city and to her people untold glory.” He added “. . . since the official escort must represent the spirit of the City, only the American and municipal flags may be carried.”     

Gertrude Ederle joined Track & Field Olympic athlete Pat McDonald (left) and Grover Whalen (right) in the ticker-tape parade for the 1952 United States Summer Olympic Team, July 7, 1952. Mayor’s Reception Committee photograph collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Gertrude Ederle’s day proceeded as planned. When asked why she undertook the swim, she said she wanted to bring honor to the United States. She also added that her father had promised her “a small roadster” if she succeeded. After losing her hearing in 1930 and suffering a debilitating back injury in 1933, she spent many years teaching deaf children to swim. Gertrude Ederle died at age 98 on November 30, 2003. 

Many years later, Grover Whalen wrote in his autobiography, Mr. New York [G. P. Putnam’s Sons, New York, 1955] about receptions he organized and said that there had been so many only a few stood out in his memory. And one that did was Gertrude Ederle’s welcome parade. “Well do I recall that day in August of 1926 when all New York turned out to welcome home the first women to swim the Channel.” He recalled that the Police Department had underestimated the crowds that would turn up for the event. “After the official ceremony Mayor Walker escorted Trudy to the front steps of City Hall in response to the request of the press for a picture. They did not tarry there long, however. A tidal wave of citizenry burst upon them. One burly patrolman rushed to Trudy’s rescue, lifted her bodily, and carried her back inside City Hall. Two other policemen ran interference for the slim Mayor, one on either side of him, and finally got him back into the building.”  

Just two weeks after Gertrude Ederle enjoyed her triumph, on September 10, 1926, the City held a ticker-tape parade for another cross-channel swimmer, Mille Gade Corson.  Billed as the “First Mother and Second Woman to Swim the Channel,” the 27-year-old Danish-American Corson explained her motivation: “I’ve got to make some money for my kids.”    

What We're Working on Now: Indexing Felony Indictment Files

On November 25, 1878, Richard Plunkett wrote to a Mr. W. D. Sloane from his jail cell in “The Tombs” prison. “I will once again appeal to you for mercy not for myself but for my poor old father & mother who is on the brink of the grave and for my poor wife and two little children all of whom with yourself I have so cruelly wronged.” In another missive from his cell on the same day, he added with regard to his wife and children, “I don’t know what will become of them I suppose they will go to the poorhouse.”

“The Tombs” Prison with its distinctive “Egyptian” motif entrance, ca. 1880s. DeGregorio Lantern Slide Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

The letters, and other documents can be found in the New York District Attorney’s felony prosecution file, Peo. v. Richard Plunkett, November 14, 1878. According to the Bill of Indictment, the Grand Jury indicted Mr. Plunkett for “Embezzlement and Grand Larceny” of money from the firm of W. & J. Sloane. The file included evidence in the form of a check made payable to “R. Plunkett” for One Thousand Sixty-Four Dollars,” [equivalent to about $30,000 currently] dated October 29, 1878, drawn on the Bank of New York.

In one of his several letters to the Sloane brothers, proprietors of the firm, Plunkett explains, “Mr. Sloane whatever money I took it was not to hoard up... if that was the case I could have taken tens of thousands; no, it was only when I had no money to satisfy my thirst for rum.”

Letter to W. D. Sloane, from Richard Plunkett, page 1, November 25, 1878. New York District Attorney Indictments Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Letter to W. D. Sloane, page 2. New York District Attorney Indictments Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

These letters, and many thousands of similar documents, are found in the New York District Attorney’s closed case file collection, one of the series of records pertaining to the administration of criminal justice in the Municipal Archives.

Beginning in 1990, the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH) awarded grant funds to the Municipal Archives for several projects to ensure long-term preservation and provide greater access for selected series in the collection. The types of material include docket books, minutes of court proceedings, and case files. They currently total more than 20,000 cubic feet, and date from 1684 through the 1980s.

Bill of Indictment, for “Larceny of Money & Etc. from the Person in the Night,” with notation of conviction, 1878. New York District Attorney Indictments Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Among the preservation projects, the Endowment supported indexing the New York District attorney’s felony indictments from 1879 through 1894. Creation of that index greatly expanded the utility of the series for social historians and other researchers. The Archives is currently continuing the indexing effort, beginning with cases filed in 1878 and working in reverse chronological order.

The records being indexed consist of the “files” or papers, produced over the course of the felony indictment process. Each file pertains to a particular defendant accused of a felony. The case files generally include three types of documents: 1) the grand jury indictment (a “bill” of indictment), signed by the foreman; 2) documents generated by the lower courts—police or magistrate’s—including the defendant’s plea; and 3) supporting documents including witness statements, coroner’s inquests, photographs, newspaper clippings, correspondence, diaries, marriage certificates, business cards, and bankbooks.  

Plea Statement, Police Court, 1878. New York District Attorney Indictments Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

The first document in most case files is the formal indictment; it serves as a cover sheet for the succeeding items in the file. It typically reads, “The People vs.... [name of defendant]” and lists the alleged offense, name of counsel, date of indictment, name of district attorney, and whether or not the defendant has been bailed. It is signed by the foreman of the grand jury. There is usually a notation indicating the trial outcome, e.g. “tried and acquitted” or, “convicted” and sometimes if convicted, the sentence, e.g. “S.P. (State Penitentiary), 10 years.” The indictment also includes a full account of the alleged criminal offense; for more routine crimes, this usually consists of a printed form where the clerk simply fills in the name of the defendant. Otherwise, it is a very detailed written statement.

The file includes various documents generated during the arraignment process in the police court. They comprise the original “complaint” filed by a police officer, the victim of the crime, or an officer of an organization such as the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. The forms detail the names of the police court justice, arresting officer, court clerk, and witnesses. Other papers provide detailed information as to the time, place, and circumstances of the offense. These documents provide the rich descriptive information that researchers often find the most rewarding.

The lower court documents also include the defendant’s plea statement. The form consists of a series of questions that the clerk would ask of the defendant: “What is your name? How old are you? Where were you born? Where do you live? What is your occupation?” And finally, “Have you anything to say, and if so, what relative to the charge here preferred against you?” The answer is usually “I am not guilty.” The court clerk records the answers and the defendant signs the document, or makes an “X” if unable to write.

Bill of Indictment, for “Arson” with notation of circumstances and dismissal, 1878. New York District Attorney Indictments Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

The types of cases found in this series include indictments for more than seventy felony offenses ranging from abandoning a child to voting illegally and every other possible felony: bigamy, fraud, libel, homicide, rape, forgery, arson, poisoning, rioting, embezzlement, kidnaping, perjury, and keeping a disorderly house, to name a few. The more routine larceny, assault, and robbery are very well represented.

Letter to District Attorney, in Peo. v McCoy, 1878. New York District Attorney Indictments Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Thanks to widespread availability of digitized newspapers, combined with the felony indictment index database, patrons can now access case files that previously would have been exceedingly difficult to identify. Armed with the name of a defendant and a date of the criminal transgression (usually from a newspaper article), these patrons are rewarded with unique and detailed information.

For family history researchers, it is not necessarily the criminal offenses that are of interest, but rather the other details about the defendants, their families, residences, occupations, possessions—information typically found in the files—that is so valuable and not available from any other source.

The large quantity of these records suggests that criminal activity was a significant and unfortunate fact of life in New York City at that time. However, the records which are the written legacy of that world now provide a windfall for scholars and other researchers as they seek to illuminate the past.

What may not be evident from this description of the records is the level of detail concerning daily life illuminated by the written account of the circumstances of a crime. The description also does not convey the emotions and passions that are revealed in the records. Many attachments in the files, such as letters from family and friends to the district attorney or the courts, are poignant and telling.

Check, evidence in Peo. V. Plunkett, 1878. New York District Attorney Indictments Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Returning to Mr. Plunkett, the notation on the Bill of Indictment indicates that he pled guilty to Grand Larceny and was sentenced to the penitentiary for two years. One additional document in the file, dated October 7, 1879, Albany, N.Y. from the New York State Executive Chamber to the New York District Attorney provides further evidence of the outcome. The letter stated that an application had been made to the Governor for the “Pardon of Richard Plunkett” and requested the District Attorney to furnish to the Governor “…with a concise statement of the case as proven on the trial, together with any other facts or circumstances which may have been a bearing on the question of granting or refusing a Pardon.” There is not any documentation in this file on whether the pardon was granted.

The drama of Mr. Plunkett’s predicament and those of the many thousands of other defendants in the Municipal Archives’ collections are unique records that in many instances are the only extant documentation of that person’s existence. Given the value of this series the Municipal Archives believes devoting resources to expanding access is a worthwhile endeavor.

Mop Shaking

The Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia collection has proven time and again to be a treasure-trove of interesting material, leading to several blog posts on important topics as well as the 2022 Conference on Conditions in Harlem. A surprising entry in the collection guide is named “Mop Shaking” which lists two folders dating to 1944-1945.

Letter to Mayor LaGuardia, regarding mop shaking, November 28, 1944. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Letter to Mayor LaGuardia, regarding mop shaking, November 28, 1944. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Indeed, mop shaking violated the City’s Sanitary Code as did shaking rugs and dusters. The folders contain several complaints sent to the Mayor, many made anonymously. Consider an excerpt from a letter received at City Hall on November 4, 1944.

“I have a neighbor right next door to me who shakes her dust mop out of her front window every morning two and three times full of dirt and dust. My husband painted our apt. last week and our windows were open with white enamel paint on the wood work and this woman shook her mop out and all the dirt set right in the wet paint. My husband nearly went mad and had to take benzine and clean it all off and paint it over again….”

The frustration oozes off the paper. In response to this and other complaints, the Mayor’s staff would forward the information to the Commissioner of Health with instructions to “Investigate and Report.”

Referral to Commissioner Stebbins, Department of Health, from the office of the Mayor, November 13, 1944. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Health inspectors were dispatched to the address provided and, inevitably, they found no evidence of the dust shakers. Considering the chain of events, that’s not surprising. The complaint was mailed to City Hall, opened by the Mayor’s staff, circulated to the Health Commissioner, the location was added to the inspectors’ route and the inspection took place. The results were relayed to the Commissioner, who, in turn, dutifully reported back to the Mayor the absence of a dust nuisance. Little wonder since days expired between the offending incident and the actual inspection.   

Report to Mayor LaGuardia from Ernest L. Stebbins, Commissioner of the Department of Health, November 29th, 1944. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Reporters seemed to get a kick out of City Hall’s efforts against the shaking of mops out of windows. One report stated that inquiries “received a gentle brush-off from city departments in a survey conducted to ascertain where and how the daunted housewife may legally clean a mop.”  The city recommended wet mopping over dry mopping and pointed to the Sanitary Code which contained a variety of prohibitions including the ban on shaking rags and mops out of windows, hanging bedding from balconies or sweeping sidewalks after 8. a.m. in much of the City. A New York Tribune headline read, “Mayor would Mop Up Practice of Shaking Mops Out Windows” and referenced Mayor LaGuardia’s radio broadcast in which he said “It is very dangerous, because nothing is more dangerous than spreading germs or dust in that manner. Besides, it is a very serious offense.”

The radio broadcast indicates how seriously the Mayor took this issue. Normally his broadcasts on WNYC ran for thirty or forty minutes. In this instance Mayor LaGuardia was in Chicago and was limited to ten minutes for his remarks. Along with reducing the exorbitant interest rates on mortgages, commercial rent, leashing dogs, stopping smoking in the subways and the hazards of gambling, he included shaking mops… “a very filthy thing to do….civilized people don’t do it.”

One letter began, “I live near 180th St and the people around here think your request not to shake mops out windows is silly—all I hear is “what does he want me to do with the dust,” but Sir, judging by some of the dust coming from windows nearby one would think the owners of same were raising a victory garden under the beds.” The writer continued on to make specific complaints and suggest the dust was a cause of polio.

Another plea: “I have hesitated writing you regarding warning people not to shake their dust mops out of windows. However, it has gotten to a point where I must ask your help,” from 115 B West 168th Street, the Bronx. There was an anonymous complaint about a Mrs. Grillo in Woodside who allegedly shook her carpets.  Commissioner Ernest Stebbins reported that Grillo “was instructed not to cause any nuisance.”

“How to Clean a Mop in New York,” New York World-Telegram, October 26, 1944. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

It’s actually remarkable that any violations were issued at all. Nevertheless, The New York World Telegram reported that in October 1944 two housewives were fined $5.00 each for the violation. The City even included this menace in a public service announcement that also focused on littering on the subways and sticking gum on the seats.  

The sanitary code now is administered by the City’s Department of Sanitation. The penalty for shaking or beating a mat, carpet or cloth that creates litter or dust is punished with a $50.00 fine for the first offense and $100.00 for subsequent violations. There’s no word on whether violations have actually been issued.

Find of the Week, Part 2

Recently, in Find of the Week, For the Record, featured unexpected items found in Municipal Archives collections. The article described several objects stored in a box labeled “Department of Parks & Recreation – Artifacts,” including an “Official Three Stooges Fan Club” franchise certificate from 1960. At that time, the comedy trio, whose act dated back to the 1920s, were enjoying a resurgence in popularity with television audiences. However, that does not explain why their Fan Club kit would be filed with Parks Department correspondence. 

Certificate from an Official Three Stooges Fan Club kit, 1960. Department of Parks & Recreation Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

This week, For the Record, answers the question. As noted in the earlier article, when archival collections are processed, standard practice dictates that photographs, other non-paper materials, and oversize items are physically separated and stored separately. For example, photographic prints and negatives must be housed in acid-free sleeves and placed in special climate-controlled conditions. Three-dimensional objects are similarly removed from the paper files and re-housed in non-damaging containers and environments.  

Certificate from an Official Three Stooges Fan Club kit, 1960. Department of Parks & Recreation Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The procedure further directs that the processing archivist fills-out a “Separation Sheet,” and substitutes it for the removed item. The sheet is a form that records the original location of the removed item, the name of the collection, a brief description, the location where the now-separated item is stored, the date when separated, and the name of the processing archivist. A copy of the separation sheet is also appended to the removed item.

Examining separation sheets attached to objects in the Parks Department artifact box provided the necessary information to identify the related correspondence files. The sheet appended to the Three Stooges Fan Club kit indicated that it had been removed from the Department of Parks General Files, sub-series, Queens – Concessions, 1960, folder no. 1.   

Welcome letter from an Official Three Stooges Fan Club kit, 1960. Department of Parks & Recreation Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The contents of folder no. 1, answers our query. In a letter to Parks Commissioner Newbold Morris, dated July 20, 1960, Mr. John McKnight, Director of Aquarama, requested permission to distribute Three Stooges Fan Club kits “during their engagement at the Amphitheatre [in Flushing Meadow Park].”  Mr. McKnight appended a sample fan club kit to the letter and concluded by inviting the Commissioner to see the Three Stooges “in person.” The correspondence did not include a copy of the reply and it is not known whether the Commissioner accepted Mr. McKnight’s invitation to see the performance, but Morris (or his correspondence secretary) dutifully filed the letter and fan club kit. 

Letter from John McKnight to Parks Commissioner Newbold Morris, 1960. Department of Parks & Recreation Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.


The ‘back-story’ for other objects in the Parks artifacts box has also been traced. Among the larger items in the box are two flags, one labeled “Cuban Flag,” and the second, “Triangular Pennant with Rosette.” The related correspondence, a memorandum from R. C. Jenkins, Parks Department [Manhattan] Borough Director, to his superior, S. M. White, tells the story.

Cuban flag found in Central Park after a clash between pro-Castro and anti-Castro demonstrators, 1960. Department of Parks & Recreation Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Anti-Castro flag found in Central Park after a clash between pro-Castro and anti-Castro demonstrators, 1960. Department of Parks & Recreation Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The memorandum is dated January 29, 1960; subject: San Marti Monument – Riot – January 28, 1960. According to Jenkins, “At about 3 p.m. [the previous day], two organized groups consisting of approximately 100 persons converged at 59th Street and the Avenue of the Americas’ entrance to Central Park, near the base of the San Marti Statue. One group was pro-Castro and the other anti-Castro.” Jenkins continued, “. . . it is apparent that one group was intent on putting a wreath at the fenced-in base of the San Marti Statue and that the other group . . . tried to prevent it.” He added, “This started a fight, which police very quickly broke up and then dispersed the groups. It would seem as though the police were forewarned as to what might happen.” Jenkins concluded by noting that “Park personnel picked up two flags, which were left laying on the ground. I am sending these two flags with this report.” The memorandum also included a hand-written note “White Rose – Anti-Castro.” As with the Stooges kit, the folded flags were filed with the correspondence.  

Memo from R. C. Jenkins, Parks Department [Manhattan] Borough Director, to his superior, S. M. White, 1960. Department of Parks & Recreation Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The New York Times article, “Central Park Ceremony for Cuban Hero Erupts Into Riot Over Castro,” which ran the following day, January 29, 1960, provided further details. According to the Times, one month earlier, a pro-Castro group had been denied a permit to hold a birthday celebration at the Marti statue. They subsequently learned that an anti-Castro group, the White Rose Organization would be allowed to place a wreath at the statue at 3 p.m. on January 28. The Times reported that “At 2:55 p.m. about forty members of the White Rose Organization, led by five teenage girls carrying a wreath of white roses reached the corner. Groups of loiterers, who later identified themselves as members of the Twenty-sixth of July Movement, converged upon the marchers, tore the wreath from the girls’ hand and use it as a weapon.” The resulting melee resulted in several injuries and twelve arrests, six from each side. The newspaper story added the detail that the “police commandeered a bus, evicted four passengers and transported the beleaguered group to Ninetieth Street and Fifth Avenue.”

Look for future For the Record articles that feature items found in Municipal Archives collections—both expected and unexpected.

City of Water Day

Tomorrow, Saturday, July 15, is City of Water Day. Now in its 16th year, the event serves to champion a climate-resilient harbor. It is organized by the Waterfront Alliance and New York–New Jersey Harbor & Estuary Program.    

Aerial view New York Bay, Governor's Island, Statute of Liberty, Ellis Island, Manhattan and Brooklyn, ca. 1937. Photograph from 2nd Air Base Squadron Photo Section, GHQ Air Force, U.S. Army, Mitchel Field, New York, via WPA Federal Writers’ Project Photograph Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

New York City is an archipelago of islands. New York harbor has 65 square miles of inland waterways and 772 miles of direct shoreline of which 580 miles surround the five Boroughs.   

The city’s waterways—rivers, bays and ocean—provided food for the indigenous population and early colonists. The deep ice-free waters of New York Harbor served as the basis for the city’s economic growth and development for more than three centuries. But there was a cost; the maritime activities that generated jobs and wealth, also created pollution that degraded marine life and cut off access to the waterfront. Policymakers focused on the condition of the harbor for decades.

The Department of Docks photograph collection includes numerous large-format glass-plate negatives dating from the 1870s that depict the commercial activity along both the East and North (Hudson) River waterfronts. West Street, ca. 1870. Department of Docks Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Government recognized that encroachments and waste in the harbor required control but faced challenges in regulating emissions and shoreline construction.

Beginning with the publication of Silent Spring by Rachel Carson in 1962, Americans began focusing on environmental issues. The Cuyahoga River famously caught fire in 1969 leading to the eventual passage of the federal Clean Water Act in 1972. By the 1970s, the city and surrounding communities began to address these concerns with an increased focus on eliminating the discharge of raw sewage and toxic waste into area waterways. Since then, many fish species have returned, and as commercial activities diminished, waterfronts have been reclaimed for housing, recreation and other activities.   

Graphic showing relationship between bathing beaches and sewage discharge from the Metropolitan Sewage Commission of New York’s 1912 report. NYC Municipal Library 

More recently, climate-change and the resulting superstorms and other destructive weather events have focused attention on the waterfront and the benefits of habitat restoration and stormwater management. The Municipal Archives and Library collections include extensive historical documentation of the waterfront that may prove useful in this essential work to create a more resilient New York and New Jersey harbor. 

The archival records date from the earliest years of the Department of Docks (1870– 1897); Docks and Ferries (1898 -1918); Department of Docks (1919-1942); Marine and Aviation (1942-1977); Ports and Terminals (1978-1985), through its final iteration, the Department of Ports and Trade (1986-1991). These series offer hundreds of cubic feet of maps, surveys, official correspondence and photographs. 

Illustration from the report, Present sanitary condition of New York Harbor and the degree of Cleanness which is necessary and sufficient for the water issued in 1912. NYC Municipal Library.

Publications in the Municipal Library document research developed by government agencies. The Metropolitan Sewage Commission of New York, issued several reports on water quality and pollutants in the Harbor beginning in 1910. More recently, the Department of Health issued Beach and Harbor Water Sampling reports that showed levels of contaminants at City beaches. In 1926, the Board of Estimate’ Subcommittee on Main Drainage issued a report on tidal currents in the Harbor, based on the movement of bottle floats.  

The theme of this year’s City of Water Day is to expand the capacity of New York and New Jersey communities to address climate change. Activities in the region include kayaking, rowing, hands-on workshops, and dozens of events for fun, education, and access to the waterfront. Visit the City of Water Day website for a complete calendar of events. 

In the meantime, here are some historical images of New York’s waterfront.  

The Department of Marine and Aviation collection includes large format color transparencies. Pier 40: Norwich and Stonington Lines (New England). Holland-American Lines (new Pier 40), circa 1960. Department of Ports and Trade Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Aerial view of the Brooklyn waterfront near Atlantic Avenue, September 19, 1956. Department of Marine and Aviation Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Aerial view of lower Manhattan, September 19, 1956. Department of Marine and Aviation Collection. NYC Municipal Archives. 

North River piers, Chelsea section, July 24, 1953. Department of Marine and Aviation Collection. NYC Municipal Archives. 

Barges, East River, June 30, 1938, Photographer: E.M.  Bofinger WPA Federal Writers’ Project Photograph Collection.