Forest Lawn Cemetery, Buffalo

Posted on June 10, 2021 by admin

The UB Council of the University of New York at Buffalo, in its wisdom, has effaced the name of President Millard Fillmore from the institution, which he also founded. Fillmore himself, however, will remain undisturbed for now at Forest Lawn Cemetery in Buffalo. Also in the Fillmore family plot are his two wives, his children and one of his mother-in-laws.

The 13th President of the United States is one of about 152,000 permanent residents of Forest Lawn. The cemetery is a splendid example of the Victorian rural cemetery movement, realized in thickets of headstones and a profusion of funerary art and ornate mausoleums inhabiting a lush landscape of grass underfoot and leaves overhead (in the warmer months, anyway). I arrived just after opening on the morning of May 31. I only had time for a slice of the place.

Spanning over 269 acres, Forest Lawn was founded in 1849, and is home to early Buffalo politicos, businessmen, artists, musicians, lawyers, doctors, inventors, a wife of Irving Berlin, the mother of Aretha Franklin, and 17 unknown victims of the Angola Horror train wreck of 1867. Frank Lloyd Wright designed a mausoleum for the cemetery that wasn’t built until 2004 and there’s a statue of Seneca Indian chief Red Jacket dating from 1851.

Lorenzo Dimick (1842-1888) might have been a criminal in Buffalo who evaded justice by fleeing to Canada, but in death there was no problem for him to return to his native city for burial under a fine piece of funerary art.

A squib about him is here. I am able to read the full story in the NYT archives, so I will relay that he committed insurance fraud in Buffalo, was duly convicted, and skipped town. Good thing for him a border was handy, presumably before cooperation between the United States and Canada in such matters. Or maybe some bribery went down.

The Firemen of Buffalo and Erie County are honored with a statue and a plaque.
The Schickel memorial. From what I’ve been able to tell, Bernhard Schickel (1820-1884) owned a beer hall. That could get you the dosh you need to pay for such finery in stone.

The Blocher Memorial is the kind of array that gets its own articles.

“The story of Nelson W. Blocher combines fact and folklore,” begins Atlas Obscura, which is to say we don’t know everything, or even very much for sure. “Local legend claims…” only affirms that further.

“Within the structure, enclosed by glass, are Italian Carrara marble statues depicting a romanticized scene of Blocher’s final moments. Blocher himself lies on a sarcophagus slab, clutching his Bible, while his parents look on,” AO says. “Above Blocher is an angel (possibly modeled after [his lost love] Katherine) who watches over him, or, perhaps calls him to heaven.”

Near a creek that runs through the cemetery —

— is a bust of Verdi. Hm. I didn’t think was buried here, and he isn’t. He’s at the Casa di Riposi per Musicisti in Milan.

The table says:

Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901)

Giuseppe Verdi is credited with having invented the Italian national operatic style. Born the son of a poor grocer in LeBoncole, Italy, Verdi began composing at age 13… His best known works include Rigoletto, Aida, Il Trovalore and La Traviata.

Forest Lawn thanks the City of Buffalo, Buffalo Arts Commission and the Federation of Italian American Societies for this bust sculpted by Dr. Antonio Ugo of Palermo, Italy… It is dedicated this 28th day of September, 1996, in tribute to the many accomplishments of the Italian-American community in this cemetery, the City of Buffalo, and all of Western New York.

Theodore Roosevelt Inaugural National Historic Site

Posted on June 9, 2021 by admin

Quoted in the pamphlet that the National Park Service gives out at the Theodore Roosevelt Inaugural National Historic Site on Delaware Avenue in Buffalo is a characteristic TR thing to say:

“It is a dreadful thing to come into the Presidency this way; but it would be far worse to be morbid about it. Here is the task, and I have got to do it to the best of my ability; and that is all there is to it.”

On September 14, 1901, the site was the house of Ansley and Mary Wilcox, friends of Theodore Roosevelt, when he took the oath of office there as 26th President of the United States. TR had hurried there from the Adirondacks when word came that President McKinley was dying.

We arrived ahead of lunch on May 30. One docent and two other staff members were there. That was all. The docent thus gave us a personal tour of the house, which is part house museum and part museum devoted to TR and his presidency.

It’s a handsome mansion, typically of those that used to stand on Delaware, though in a little need of paint these days.

Delaware Avenue, once Buffalo’s Millionaire’s Row, is still characterized by large houses, many of which are now office buildings for attorneys and accountants and such. There are also places where mansions probably used to be, but which were lost to time. Directly across the street from the former Wilcox house is a chain pharmacy.

TR stands in bronze on the grounds. The work is surprisingly new, completed only in 2015 by sculptor Toby Mendez.

Photography was allowed inside, and while I’m not always inclined to take pictures inside house museums, I wanted to take one of the room in which TR took the oath. Most of the items are period-specific but not actually owned by the Wilcoxes.

“No definite plans had been made for swearing him in,” Wilcox wrote, “and it had not even been settled where this should be done. The first suggestion had been to take him directly to Mr. Milburn’s house, there to be sworn-in, but this had been objected to as unsuitable, while the body of the president was lying in the house. So he was asked to go to my house to get lunch, and immediately at arriving and being equipped with borrowed clothes, more appropriate than his traveling suit, he insisted on starting for Mr. Milburn’s house, to make a call of sympathy and respect on the family of the dead president. This was done, and by three o’clock he was at my house again…

“The room [the library], not a large one, was far from full, and at the last moment, the newspaper men, who were eager for admission, were all let in, but were prohibited from taking any photographs…

“The new President was standing in front of the bay window on the south side of the room. Others had fallen back a bit when Mr. [Elihu] Root spoke. After his response, Judge [John] Hazel advanced and administered the oath… The written oath, which Judge Hazel produced…was then signed. Then President Roosevelt made the announcement of his request to the cabinet to remain in office. The whole ceremony was over within half an hour after the Cabinet had entered the house, and the small company dispersed, leaving only the six Cabinet officers with the President, who at once held an informal session in the library.”

The Wilcoxes died in the early 1930s, and afterwards the house was used as a restaurant until the 1960s, when it was in danger of demolition, as so many historic structures were at the time. Fortunately, the citizens of Buffalo didn’t let that happen, and 50 years ago the house opened as a museum.

Visiting this particular national historic site made me wonder how many there are. Quite a few, Wiki tells me: 87, most of which (76) are National Park Service units, with 11 as affiliate areas, though I’m not sure what that distinction might mean on the ground.

How many have I visited? Only 14, counting the latest one, though I’m not entirely sure about two of them. Clearly I need to get out more.

Main Street, Buffalo (Theater District)

Posted on June 8, 2021 by admin

At the five-way intersection of Main, Edward, Pearl and Goodell streets in Buffalo — only Main has the same name on both sides — stand the Catholic Center and the Sidway Building (mentioned yesterday) but also St. Louis Roman Catholic Church.

Designed by Schickel and Ditmar in 1889 on the site of the two earlier churches, it’s considered the Mother Church of the Diocese of Buffalo. Local architectural firm HLL, who did some restoration work in 2003, notes that “the 245-foot-tall steeple includes a 72-foot-tall, pierced spire, reportedly the tallest open-work spire ever built completely of stone without reinforcement. It is reputed to be the only remaining pierced spire in the United States.”

I popped in for a look, surprised to find it open on Sunday afternoon. A wedding was in progress, but I was able to see much of the interior from the narthex, through large windows in the doors.

A descriptive stone outside the church.

Main Street continues southward, but not as New York State Route 5, which veers off onto Edward St. and heads into downtown via another street. Main becomes narrower at that point, includes tracks for Buffalo’s light rail system, and runs through Buffalo’s Theater District, which I expect hasn’t been too busy lately. By that I mean in 2020, but also since its heyday about 100 years ago, when it was home to about 50 theaters of various sorts. I didn’t count, but maybe there are seven or eight.

Still, even former or diminished theater districts have their interests. Dotonbori in Osaka, for instance, only has a single theater any more (for Kabuki), but it sure is interesting to walk through.

The grande dame of Buffalo theaters is Shea’s Buffalo, these days one of a complex of three theaters known as Shea’s Performing Arts Center.

It’s one of the many Rapp and Rapp theaters that started as a movie palace in the 1920s, like the Chicago Theatre. If it had been open, I would have gone in.

“A casual observer may not know the history behind Shea’s. Michael Shea, for whom the venue is named, was born in St. Catharines, Ontario, in 1859,” Buffalo Tales reports. “Around the turn of the century, he operated several vaudeville theaters in Buffalo and Toronto. By the early 1920s, Shea and his associates had traveled the country to gather ideas for constructing an ornate theater in Buffalo.

“Cornelius and George Rapp, famous theater architects based in Chicago, were hired to design a building that would resemble a European opera house and ‘compare favorably with such buildings in other cities.’ The initial plan was to spend approximately $1 million, but investors eventually spent twice that.”

A little further south and across the street is another splendid bit of Beaux Arts, the Market Arcade.

“Designed in 1892 by Buffalo architects Edward B. Green and William S. Wicks, the Market Arcade is the city’s only historic covered shopping arcade,” the site Buffalo As An Architectural Museum says. “This nineteenth century building type, which first achieved popularity during the 1820s, is generally regarded as the forerunner of the contemporary suburban mall.

“The Market Arcade recalls more famous arcades, such as the Gallery Umberto I (1887-90) in Naples and London’s Burlington Arcade (1818-19), which G.B. Marshall, the builder of the Buffalo Arcade, suggested to the architects as a model for his structure.

“Like European arcades, the Market Arcade maintained close ties to the street life around it. When constructed, the building connected this bustling stretch of Main Street with the flourishing public market that formerly existed at Washington and Chippewa streets. It was the market — the ‘belly of Buffalo’ – that gave the arcade its name.”

These days, the restored Market Arcade is home to CEPA Gallery and a mix of retail shops. The building was closed when I wandered by.

Further south still, the theater district peters out, giving way to a more general commercial area. I was a little tired by this point, but I had to get a closer look at the gold-domed building on Main, which I’d seen from a distance earlier in the day from the lawn of the Buffalo and Erie County Public Library, and which I’d imagined might be a church.

Turns out it’s a temple of mammon instead, a branch of M&T Bank that used to be Buffalo Savings Bank. That institution was founded in the 19th century by prominent Buffalonians, including local attorney and politico Millard Fillmore.

“Few buildings on Buffalo’s skyline are as pronounced or recognizable as the historic Gold Dome building,” USA Today reported in 2014. “Designed by E.B. Green [him again], the granite landmark was commissioned in 1898 and opened in 1901 — just before the Pan Am Exposition. But back then, this ornate edifice was actually rather plain.”

The article details the artwork added in the 1920s to the interior — inaccessible on a Sunday — and then says about the outside of the dome: “When it was built, the tiles were a simple beige terra-cotta. They stayed that way until the ’50s when they were gilded with 23 and 3/4 karat gold leaf.”

A bank building with a gold leaf dome. Now that’s something you’d think there would have been more of, at least adorning banks of the pre-FDIC period. A good-looking way to send a simple message: We’ve got the dough.

Main Street, Buffalo (NY 5)

Posted on June 7, 2021 by admin

At about 8:30 this evening, as dusk settled in, I was reading out on the deck. I glanced up and spotted a brilliant rainbow. It had been cloudy and slightly misty much of the day, but no real rain. The clouds off to the west were pink and gray.

I could see almost all of the arc, which stretched from due east to south-southeast. Should I tell the rest of my family? I did, and remarkably they got themselves outside in time to see the glorious multicolored curve, which lasted all of about five minutes.

In Buffalo, Main Street is a main street, running northeast from downtown roughly to the border with Amherst. Because we stayed in Amherst over our Memorial Day weekend trip, it proved to be the best route into the city and downtown, so I drove it more than once. Much of the street also counts as New York State Route 5, a highway that runs from the Pennsylvania line on Lake Erie to Albany.

Main is a busy commercial street, marked by various restaurants, retail establishments, public buildings and more. As you head into Buffalo, you’ll also see Grover Cleveland Golf Course, University at Buffalo South Campus, St. Mary’s School for the Deaf, Sisters of Charity Hospital, one edge of Forest Lawn Cemetery, Canisius College, and two restaurants we visited on different days: Lake Effect Diner and Anchor Bar.

The former.

The latter.

Originally a Philly diner, new owners relocated Lake Effect to Buffalo in 2002 and restored it to its ’52 chrome-and-neon self. I had a good Reuben sandwich there. Anchor Bar, which sports a sizable collection of motorcycles along its walls, and a truly enormous collection of old license plates and other bric-a-brac, claims to have invented the Buffalo wing. Whatever the truth of that, we had the wings, and they were a tasty highlight of the trip.

After lunch at Anchor Bar on May 30, we drove along Main Street to see other things. Or rather, I did. Lunch had been heavy, and Yuriko napped in the passenger seat. I drove along, parked on the side of the street — there was always plenty of parking — and walked around for a few blocks, and then repeated the process a few blocks further on. That was when I spotted the KEEP BUFFALO A SECRET mural.

That isn’t the only mural on Main. Late last year, two local artists, Edreys Wajed and James “Yames” Moffitt, collaborated on a mural commissioned by the Albright-Knox Public Art Initiative.

Then there was this. Sigh.

A handsome block.

It includes this delightful find: the former home of McDonnell & Sons who, as the building itself still says, were “dealers in every variety of granite work — monumental and building.”

Vacant now, as it has been for many years. According to this short history of the company, McDonnell & Sons moved to Buffalo from Massachusetts in 1884 and stayed in business until about 1968. The perfect place for a hipster bar, if you asked me, though restoration would cost a pretty penny.

The Catholic Center, which is another building on Main with a backstory.

A nice bit of art deco, designed by Monks & Johnson of Boston and completed in 1930. Until 1982, it was HQ for Courier Express newspaper. The Catholic Diocese of Buffalo has owned the building since 1985.

The figures toward the top, which I didn’t notice until I looked at my pictures, are famous printers (such as Ben Franklin). This site has better pictures of them and some detail.

One more Main Street building for now.

The Beaux-Arts Sidway Building, designed in 1907 with a two story addition in 1913 by McCreary, Wood & Bradney of Buffalo. An office building originally; these days, loft apartments. Curious, I checked the rents. About $1,200/month for a one bedroom. The average in Manhattan would be three times as much at least, and even in or near the Chicago Loop, twice as much. That’s the Buffalo discount, I guess.

Downtown Buffalo

Posted on June 6, 2021 by admin

Last Sunday morning, May 30, we were up fairly early and spent time in downtown Buffalo. I had a walking route in mind, inspired by a walking tour map I’d seen on line, but we pretty much disregarded that and used the “hey, what’s that building over there?” technique to set our path.

After parking in a garage, the first thing we spotted was Millard Fillmore. In bronze.

A work of New York City sculptor Bryant Baker, from the early 1930s, next to Buffalo City Hall. Naturally, President Fillmore has attracted the ire of removalists, who want to take his memory to task for signing the Compromise of 1850, especially the odious Fugitive Slave Law, and for being the standard-bearer for the Know-Nothings. Not for being mentioned as a mediocre president in song and story.

Fillmore’s on the southeast corner of the building. On the northeast corner is the Baker bronze of Grover Cleveland, who was mayor of Buffalo before he was ever president.

Buffalo City Hall is a famed bit of architecture, for good reason. Chicago has a handsome city hall, as does New York City and other places, but I’ve seen none more impressive than Buffalo.

Local architects Dietel, Wade & Jones did the soaring art deco design, with completion in 1931. I’ve read there’s an observation deck on the upper floors, but it was closed on Sunday. Actually, most of downtown Buffalo seemed closed on Sunday. A 24/7 city, it is not.

City Halls faces Niagara Square, which has been a focal point for the city for a long time, and continues to be in the news.
The obelisk is the McKinley Monument, designed by the architects of the 1901 world’s fair, Carrere and Hastings.

East of City Hall, facing Lafayette Square, is the Liberty Building, developed in 1925 for Liberty National Bank.

At one time the bank had been German American Bank, but the bankers thought better of that name during the 1910s dust-up in Europe. Just to hammer home the patriotic point, there are replicas of the Statue of Liberty atop the building.

The Rand Building, completed in 1929.
One M&T Plaza, completed in 1966 and looking every bit of it. A design by Minoru Yamasaki, who’s best known for the destroyed World Trade Center in NYC.

A detail of Ellicott Square, designed by Charles Atwood of D. H. Burnham & Co. and completed in 1896. The lobby is supposed to be like the Rookery in Chicago, which would be high praise indeed, but the building wasn’t open for a look.

The splendid Guaranty Building, originally the Prudential Building, also completed in 1896. A Louis Sullivan and Dankmar Adler tour-de-force.

Across the street from the Guaranty is St. Paul’s Cathedral of the Episcopal Diocese of Western New York. Richard Upjohn, who designed Trinity Church Wall Street in Manhattan, did the original design in the 1840s. After a bad fire in the 1880s, Robert Gibson did the renovation.

The Sunday service was in progress and we sat in for a while, with a good view of the resplendent interior.

Those were the buildings we had energy for. Some details along the way, such as the Buffalo city flag.

In the street across from the cathedral are Toynbee tiles.

Been a while since I’ve seen any. The last time was St. Louis, maybe 20 years ago. An examination of the spot on Google Streetview tells me that these particular tiles appeared after 2011 but before 2015, and one of the tiles says 2013. So they might not be the work of the original tiler, whomever that might be, but does that even matter? The obscure oddity has a life of its own, and it’s good to know that they’re still being created and you can still see them with your own eyes.

Along the Niagara Gorge

Posted on June 3, 2021 by admin

What’s within walking distance of Niagara Falls State Park if you want a (relatively) inexpensive lunch? There’s a food court in an ugly building, but also Zaika Indian Cuisine, Taste of Nepal and Punjabi Hut on streets near the park, all of which speak to fairly recent immigration in this corner of western NY. When honeymooners visited Niagara in the early 20th century, or even most of the rest of the century, those were surely not options. We had the buffet on Saturday at Punjabi Hut, which was pretty good.

Afterwards, we spent a little more time at the park riding the Niagara Scenic Trolley, whose route was shortened during the pandemic, and then headed north by car on the Niagara Scenic Parkway. The road is fairly short — 18 miles or so — and goes from the town of Niagara Falls to Lake Ontario, but it is definitely scenic, except for the section that passes by the New York Power Authority plant on the river. Just north of the falls the parkway follows the river fairly closely.

The road was known as the Robert Moses Scenic Parkway until about five years ago. Looks like Confederate memorials aren’t the only ones getting the boot these days. So are those honoring urban planners with a taste for neighborhood-impinging expressways. (And what’s to become of this state park on Long Island? Time will tell.)

North of the town of Lewiston, the parkway still follows the river, but at a remove of a mile or so. It’s pretty enough, but I understand that the Niagara Parkway on the Canadian side, which follows the river quite closely, is the prettier drive. But one goes where one can go.

First stop: Whirlpool State Park. The intense current of the Niagara River rushes to this point and forms a enormous whirlpool at a bend. Been quite a while since I’ve had a good look at a natural whirlpool which, despite the name, looks like a choppy patch of water rather than the thing you see in a drain.

The view upriver. In the distance is the Rainbow Bridge. As I’ve said, nothing is very far from anything else in this part of New York state.

The flow into the whirlpool.

The whirlpool.

It doesn’t look like a particularly safe place for boats, but that doesn’t keep tourists from venturing there under the command of “highly skilled captains.” I’d hope so. I don’t know whether the jetboats are running now. We didn’t see any. The cable car that dangles over the whirlpool, the Whirlpool Aero Car, and which launches from the Canadian side, looked immobile, still shut for the pandemic.

Then there’s the story of Capt. Joel Robinson, skipper of the Maid of the Mist in 1861, who shot the Niagara rapids and whirlpool. Niagara Falls Info tells the story:

“In 1861, due to a financial crisis and the American Civil War, the Maid of the Mist was sold at public auction to a Canadian company. The deal would go through if the boat could be delivered to Lake Ontario. To get to Lake Ontario, the Maid of the Mist had to be navigated through the Great Gorge Rapids, the Whirlpool, and the Lower Rapids.

“On June 6th 1861, 53-year-old Captain Joel Robinson undertook this risky mission along with two deck hands…[McIntyre and Jones]. With both shores lined with onlookers, Captain Robinson and crew rode the Maid of the Mist into one of the world’s most wild and dangerous whitewater rapids.

“The first giant wave that struck the boat threw Robinson and McIntyre to the floor of the wheel house. It also tore the smoke stack from the boat and Jones was thrown to the floor of the engine room. The tiny boat was now at the mercy of the massive waves crashing against it. The boat was carried at approximately 63 km/h through the rock strewn rapids. Soon the Maid of the Mist was propelled into the Whirlpool where Captain Robinson was able to regain control of the boat.

“Captain Robinson had great difficulty maneuvering the Maid of the Mist from the grip of the Whirlpool… The 5 kilometre journey through the rapids and the Whirlpool was well executed, although they lost the smoke stack. Captain Robinson was the first person to accomplish the impossible [obviously not, just difficult] task of taking a boat through the dangerous waters.

“The frightening experience of this journey caused Captain Robinson to give up a career that he loved. He retired into near seclusion and died two years later at the age of 55.”

In modern terms, sounds like he suffered from PTSD. In 19th-century terms, I figure people said he was spooked by the ordeal. No mention of the aftermath for the deck hands.

Not long after visiting Whirlpool State Park, we spend a while in the pleasant town of Lewiston, New York, whose equally pleasant riverfront isn’t at the top of a gorge, but at river level. Not far from the river is the Freedom Crossing Monument, an ensemble of bronzes by Susan Geissler commemorating those escaped slaves who crossed into Canada.
Elsewhere in Lewiston is the variously named Earl W. Brydges Artpark State Park, or Earl W. Brydges State Artpark, or simply the Artpark, a venue for summertime musical entertainment. It also includes some other standard features of a park, such as playground equipment and picnic tables, as well as an Indian mound. I expect there haven’t been any events there in more than a year, but maybe that will pick up soon.

All very interesting, but what struck me was the parking lot. It’s large and undistinguished except for the paintings on its surface. When I pulled into the lot, I took them for children’s chalk drawings, maybe left over from a kids’ event, but soon I noticed they were paintings, and extensive in scope across the lot.

More parking lots such be decorated like this. The end of the line for the Niagara Scenic Parkway is near Old Fort Niagara State Historic Site, which overlooks the mouth of the river on Lake Ontario. The fort itself, which is ringed by an iron fence, was closed by the time we got there. But the rest of the grounds were open. While Yuriko napped in the car, I looked around.

The Old Fort Niagara lighthouse.
This particular light dates from 1871, but the fort had more primitive lights much earlier than that, ca. 1781, which count as the first lights on the Great Lakes.

The old fort also has an old cemetery. Small, but a dignified spot for those who died during here the War of 1812. The fort was scene of a bloody bit of business during that dimly remembered war. Good to see that the stones were ready for Decoration Day.Erected to the memory of unknown soldiers and sailors of the United States killed in action or dying of wounds in this vicinity during the War of 1812.

Niagara Falls State Park

Posted on June 2, 2021 by admin

Something I didn’t know until I visited there on Saturday: Niagara Falls State Park in New York is considered the oldest state park in the nation, established in 1885 as the Niagara Reservation. Creation of the park was an early success for Progressivism, spearheaded by Frederick Law Olmsted. Him again. The wonder is that he isn’t more widely known for his terrific landscape artistry, which anyone can see.

A victory for the Progressive movement because, as I’ve read, before that private landowners around the falls monopolized access. You’d think that wouldn’t be much of an issue in the 19th century, but the falls have been a tourist attraction for a long time. In the park we saw a sign that noted that on his grand tour of the U.S. in 1825, Lafayette came to see the falls. But the real tourism boom began after the falls became a public place with easy access.

We arrived on Saturday around 9 a.m. and found a place to park right away in lot no. 1. Good thing, too, since later in the day we noticed a long line of cars waiting to park. Even that early there were a fair number of people in the park, but by early afternoon the place was mobbed.

It didn’t matter once you’d ditched your car. The park holds crowds well because it’s large, encompassing a long stretch of shore along the Niagara River upriver and downriver from the falls, and the islands that divide the falls into three: the relatively small Bridal Falls, the mid-sized American Falls, and the mighty Horseshoe Falls, most of which is Canadian.

Created at the end of the last ice age 12,000 years ago or so, the falls have an estimated existence span of another 50,000 years. So we’re witnessing a geological blip. How many countless mighty cataracts of this kind have come into being only to erode away over the billions of years of liquid water on Earth? And what about crashing falls on other worlds?

From the U.S. side, your first view is of the American falls, looking to the south. The buildings in the background are part of the town of Niagara Falls, Ontario. This is a shot with the tourist infrastructure edited out.

Left in.

Bridges cross from the shore upriver a bit to Goat Island, the main island in the channel. For a few moments, you can forget you’re surrounded by the intensity of the Niagara River.

But not for long. More views of the American Falls are easily found. Looking north over the drop, with the Rainbow International Bridge in the background, seeming not nearly as high as it is.

Spray. It wouldn’t be the last time.

A curiosity on Goat Island: a statue of Tesla.

“Gift of Yugoslavia to the United States, 1976,” the Tesla Memorial Society of New York says. “Nikola Tesla designed the first hydroelectric power plant in Niagara Falls. This was the final victory of Tesla’s Alternating Current over Edison’s Direct Current. The monument was the work of Croatian sculptor Frane Krsinic.”

A standing Tesla was installed on the Canadian side more recently, in 2006, according to the society. More about Tesla and Niagara is here.

Go far enough on Goat Island and you’ll reach Terrapin Point, which offers a view of Horseshoe Falls, which is what most people think of when they think of Niagara Falls. It’s wider than the other falls combined, and drops more water, as much as 90% of the 100,000 or so cubic feet of water per second that flows over the three falls during the summer. The rate is controlled by engineering, and is lessened at night and during the spring and fall, when fewer tourists are around, so that more of the flow can be used to generate electricity at those times.

Naturally, lots of people were gathered to take a look. And pictures.

There’s a good view of the Canadian side from there as well, when the mist doesn’t obscure it. Looks like there’s reconstruction going on over there, near the edge. I remember standing next to the Horseshoe Falls at that point 30 years ago, and it looks like that observation deck is missing for now.

The Canadian town looks more prosperous than the U.S. town from that vantage, and indeed it is for various reasons. Sad to say, beyond the tourist enclave, Niagara Falls, New York is another one of the small cities of the industrial North that has seen better times.

Canada, as it happens, was still mostly closed to visitors over Memorial Day weekend, which would be an ordinary weekend there. Later in the day, we saw the entrance to the Rainbow Bridge on the U.S. side, and only one lane for traffic was open, and no one was in it.

The bridge is visible from Terrapin Point, since it isn’t far downriver from the falls. A striking bit of work across a gorge.

After our Goat Island wander, we wanted to do the Maid of the Mist boat ride. That was something I skipped in ’91, and wasn’t expecting much more than a ride along the river with a nice view of the bottom of the falls, to complement the views of the tops. We waited in line about half an hour to get on one of the two boats, which made me think of waiting around for a ride at Disneyland. A thing that you do as a tourist. I grumbled a little about the price. I didn’t realize what was ahead.

This is one of the boats, the James V. Glynn. We rode on the other one, the Nikola Tesla. Him again. Mr. Glynn is a long-time Maid of the Mist chairman.

Tourists have been riding Maid of the Mist boats since 1845, another indication of how long tourists have been coming to Niagara Falls, though intermittently until 1885 and every year since then. The boats were steam and then diesel powered and now, as the company is eager to point out, all-electric with no emissions, launched into service only last year. As people get on and off, the boats are recharged at the dock.

The company gives you bright blue thin plastic ponchos and off you go, for a 20 minute or so trip. It isn’t the quantity of the time aboard that counts, but the quality. First you pass by the American and Bridal Falls, which are impressive in their flow and in the huge boulders piled at the bottom.
The ship then passes into the curve under Horseshoe Falls. I didn’t think it would get as close at it did. The roar is enormous. The spray is continuous. The curving walls of water, taller than walls of water should be, fill your senses. The place is enthralling. I haven’t been as captivated by a natural phenomenon (well, partly engineered) since I saw the total eclipse a few years ago.

No wonder people have been paying for over a century and a half for this little boat ride. It was worth the effort to get to Niagara Falls, all by itself, and all of the $25.25 each to be escorted under the spectacular cataract.

I wasn’t in the mood to take pictures during most intense moments, like during the eclipse. Except one.
One of three or four selfies I’ve taken since that concept was popularized. Hit the nail on the head with that one.

Shuffle Off To Buffalo

Posted on June 1, 2021 by admin

Just back yesterday evening from 72 hours in Buffalo. Roughly. Not quite 72 hours over Memorial Day weekend and not quite all in Buffalo, though we were in the Buffalo-Niagara Falls MSA the whole time.

Three days isn’t enough to drive to Buffalo from northern Illinois and spend a worthwhile amount of time. Like Pittsburgh, that would be a four-day venture. So we flew. First time since early 2020. Except for mandatory masking at the airports and on the planes, everything was about the same as it used to be, including holiday-weekend crowds. One of our flights was on a Boeing 737 MAX-8, and clearly we lived to tell the tale.

We, as in Yuriko and I, arrived late Friday night and made our way to Amherst, New York, a Buffalo suburb, where we stayed. We were up early the next morning to spend most of the day at Niagara Falls State Park. I was fulfilling a promise I made in 1996, when we arrived at the falls in March to find the American Falls still frozen. I told her we’d come someday when the liquid was moving again, and so we did.

That wasn’t the whole first day. I discovered that nowhere is very far away from anywhere else in this corner of New York state by driving north along the Niagara Gorge, stopping at Lewiston and Fort Niagara, and then returning to Amherst.

On Sunday, we weren’t up quite as early, but we made it to downtown Buffalo in the morning for a walkabout. As promised by various sources, the city has some first-rate architecture, most especially Buffalo City Hall. Late in the morning, after a brief stop at Tim Horton’s — they’re everywhere in metro Buffalo — we toured the Theodore Roosevelt Inaugural National Historic Site, formerly the Ansley and Mary Wilcox home.

Lunch that day was on Main Street at the Anchor Bar, which specializes in Buffalo wings and claims their invention, but in any case the joint didn’t disappoint. Afterward, Yuriko napped in the car while I spent time looking around Main Street, which includes Buffalo’s theater district and Saint Louis Roman Catholic Church.

Also, this mural.
Created by local t-shirt designer David Horesh and painter Ian de Veer, it’s highly visible when you’re traveling southbound on Main.

Could it be that current Buffalonians might not want millennials, or more importantly, tech-industry millennials with high incomes, to show up in droves to drive up prices for everyone else? Maybe. Not sure Buffalo has the tech ecosystem, as they say in the biz, to support such an influx. Then again, in the vicinity of the mural are places probably supported by people with at least some disposable income, such as Just Vino, the House of Masters Grooming Lounge, Hair to Go Natural, and Fattey Beer Co. Buffalo.

I had a mind to visit Delaware Park afterwards, since a Frederick Law Omstead park is always worth seeing, but we ended up sampling it merely by driving around it. Looks like a nice place to while away a warm afternoon.

By that time, Sunday afternoon, it was fairly warm in greater Buffalo. Rain had clearly fallen the day before we arrived, and cool air arrived afterward, taking temps down into the low 50s early Saturday, when we got to Niagara Falls. Did that matter? No. It wasn’t cold enough to freeze anything.

On Monday I got up early and visited the splendid Forest Lawn Cemetery, permanent home of President Fillmore and Rick James, among many others. Later, we drove to Lockport, New York and spent some time along the Erie Canal. As long ago as elementary school, I heard about the Erie Canal, but had never seen it. We also took a tour of one of the manmade caves near the canal, where rapid water flows formerly powered local industry.

Back in Buffalo for a satisfying lunch at Lake Effect Diner, housed in a chrome-and-neon diner car dating to 1952. Then we drove south via surface streets to Lackawanna, where you can see the Basilica of Our Lady of Victory, our last destination for the trip.

Why Buffalo? There was that promise to visit the falls, of course. But I also wanted to see Buffalo. My single previous experience there had been a quick drive-through in 1991 after I saw Niagara Falls for the first time, from the Canadian side. Every city of any size has something interesting. A lot of smaller places do as well. So we shuffled off to Buffalo.

Thursday Chaff

Posted on March 11, 2021 by admin

It’s been a warm week for March so far, even warm enough last night before bed to crack the window a bit and listen to the strong winds and occasional rain showers. Did that account for the occurrence of one of my semiannual phantasmagoria dreams early this morning? Maybe.

Great Fortune, subtitled “The Epic of Rockefeller Center,” by Daniel Okrent (2003) is a delightful book so far, and I’m only a chapter in. Certainly the most delightful thing I’ve ever read about a major urban mixed-use redevelopment project.

The first chapter sets up the story nicely, telling a short history of the Manhattan land that would be Rockefeller Center up until the time that John D. Rockefeller Jr. got involved in the project in the late 1920s. I didn’t know that the parcel had belonged to Columbia University for many years, and the scheme to redevelop the land (known as the Upper Estate) was ultimately driven by the university’s need to pay for its stately campus in Morningside Heights.

“… this meant that expansion on the grand scale of McKim, Mead & White’s Olympian campus on Morningside Heights had somehow to be financed, and the Upper Estate was the only cash cow in sight,” Okrent writes. “The milking commenced in 1904…”

An important person at the beginning of the story is Otto Kahn, multimillionaire financier and patron of the arts (an American Maecenas, back when educated people would have known that reference), who was president and chairman of the board of directors of the Metropolitan Opera. I didn’t know that he was well enough known that the Marx Brothers parodied him as Roscoe W. Chandler in Animal Crackers.

A digression. Apparently, for $200, one can own an original Otto Kahn letter. Then again, they aren’t rare. Okrent called his correspondence “oceanic.”

Okrent also writes some good standalone lines: “His [architect Ben Morris] neo-Georgian Union League Club on 37th and Park is probably as close as one can get to the architectural equivalent of a stuffed shirt.”

The other day, I was driving along with Ann and playing with the radio dial as we went. On came “Copacabana.” Hadn’t heard that song a good while, but as I mentioned to Ann, it seemed to be on the radio all the time in 1978.

I thought a bit about it, and it seems remarkable that such a downer of a song was so popular. As a ballad, the entire story is, a woman’s boyfriend is killed in front of her, and psychologically she never recovers.

“Yeah,” Ann said. “But the music is so peppy.”

True enough. There’s also a derivative short story in there somewhere. Maybe the incident and the aftermath from the point of view of Rico. Maybe he was the playboy son of a Fulgencio Batista crony. In his highly publicized murder trial in New York in 1949, his lawyers argued self-defense and he was acquitted.

While walking the dog at Fabbrini Park this week, I noticed a memorial plaque on a bench honoring a man named William “Mr. Bill” X (I forget the last name). Nicknamed Mr. Bill, eh? And what were his last words? Oh Noooooooooooooo!

Of course, like Wile E. Coyote, Mr. Bill couldn’t actually die, just suffer endlessly, which seems a lot more hellish. Still, we celebrate the likes of Mr. Bill. I used to have a Mr. Bill t-shirt, and have photographic evidence to prove it, in as much as photographs prove anything anymore. It’s among the t-shirts I’ve lost over the years, which also includes the Kill ‘Em All, Let God Sort It Out shirt that sported a black beret-wearing skull.

Dinosaurs of New York

Posted on August 23, 2020 by admin

Back in the days of paper letters and postcards, not every correspondence I started ended up in the mail. I have an entire file of letters and a few postcards that I didn’t finish and didn’t mail.

Usually that was for ordinary reasons, such as forgetting to complete it for months, by which time the news was stale. Only on rare occasions did I write a letter and think better of sending it because of its content, though I have a few insolent work memos of that kind.

I wrote a large postcard to a friend of mine in Illinois on August 27, 1983, while I was still in New York City. I think it got lost among the papers I had with me a few days later when I went to Nashville, and all these years later, I still have it.

Note the missing piece. I got as far as stamping the thing, but later removed it for re-use.

The printed text of the card says:

ALLOSAURUS (foreground) was a large, meateating dinosaur that lived during the Jurassic period of earth history, about 140 million years ago. This aggressive reptile, which preyed upon other dinosaurs, was about 30 feet long and probably weighed several tons when it was alive. Several individuals of CAMPTOSAURUS, a small, inoffensive, plant-eating dinosaur, are shown in the background.

Painting on Display
THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY
NEW YORK, U.S.A.

I wrote, in part:

Dear R—

I have come to New York to learn such oddities as “August is Bondage Month,” which a simple advertisement in the window of the Pink Pussycat Boutique told me. [Remarkably, the shop is still there; give the people what they want, I guess.]

Since the long line to pass through customs at JFK [returning from Europe], I’ve shuffled first to the P’s house in New Rochelle, then S’s house in Stamford, Conn. Since last Friday (the 19th), I have been at D’s apartment while she is on the Jersey shore with her parents. This is a good arrangement. I’ve become acquainted with the Village and various other parts of the city.

This card, for instance, is an accurate portrait of Brooklyn, by the East River.

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling

Tag Archives: New York