Vanishing New York Backup

Stepping way far back into vanished New York history, Governors Island this weekend hosted a few groups of Civil War reenactors , who transformed the island to its olden days as a base for recruiting Union soldiers and a prison for Confederates. And while it was Governors Island circa 1863, it felt, in odd ways, eerily like Brooklyn 2010. photos: my flickr There were musket drills and firings of cannons. There were tents set up in rows, each one outfitted by its owner with personal items--packets of letters, tin cups, tobacco. Womenfolk baked bread over open fires, in between the washing and drying of clothing. They talked about sewing and the business of handwork. The officers and their wives enjoyed a lavish meal of local foods. A makeshift general store sold pickled eggs, handmade soap, and plain wooden pencils that brought to mind Field Notes pencils , each of which are stamped with a dizzying description of their virtuous contents: " Lacquer-free Renewable Cal-Cedar Wood Casi...

On Sunday, thanks to OHNY , I took a tour of the ruins on the south side of Ellis Island . It was a popular event, with five tours running on both days of the weekend--plenty of chances for New Yorkers to experience this important piece of history, and enjoy the thrill of accessing a rarely seen aspect of the hidden city. Art-Deco eagles That's the best part--stepping through private doors into a place few people go, into a no-man's land of contagious disease wards and psychiatric lock-ups. the face of misery on a hospital building There is something deeply satisfying about a modern ruin. The smallpox hospital on Roosevelt Island, the High Line before it was reclaimed, Admirals Row at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Maybe they bring to mind the oddly peaceful, unpeopled pleasures of the post-apocalypse . Maybe it's their familiarity that attracts us to them. In the Staff House at Ellis Island, a building recently reclaimed from wild vines , we can imagine ourselves sitting by the f...

There are those who make our dreary daily commutes a little more interesting. Surrounded by androids tuned out on ipods and handheld video games, cell phones and Blackberries, a flash of humanity can mean a lot. Conductor Jason Lewis has been making life on the #2 train more human by adding his own words to those of the automated robot voices, wishing his riders good morning as he cracks jokes and waxes philosophic. This all may end, however, as he was passed over for a job as dedicated announcer. The MTA was afraid he would not conform to their official script. "I'm done," Jason told the New York Times . In 2003 Carmine Rizzo said he was done, after shining shoes on the Staten Island Ferry for 35 years. He was the last of the ferryboat shoeshine men. I remember him as a stooped little man with an oily wooden box in his hand and a tired voice that called out, "Shine, shine, shine." He said not another word to me when I got a shoeshine from him, but it was a plea...