Is It Good Shepherds Who Denigrate Our Wooden Greek Revival Houses?…Park Slope, Brooklyn, New York

Carpenter’s Wooden Residence Obscured by Good Shepherds

262 9th Street, Brooklyn, New York at Park Slope

Naturally, the good shepherds at 262 9^th Street in the Park Slope section of Brooklyn, New York have no regard for the history and honor “of place” as is apparent in the complete disregard and distaste for the wood frame building that houses the Barbara Blum Residence.  We know the keepers of the place will not understand this rant, but hope that our sensible argument will foster a connection that is constantly missed—the idea of place.  If the principles of the organization involve “…the ability of individuals and families to transform themselves…” among other “residential programs” within “high-need” communities, one might first take a look at the physical community itself.  As we say…if a horrible person commits a horrible crime in a horrible house within a horrible neighborhood within the generally horrible town, there may be a connection to the general apathy and disregard for place.  It is not easy to foster a beautiful personality…a beautiful group of personalities, who employ beautiful practices within beautiful houses that make beautiful neighborhoods as part of beautiful towns, but we understand that this is work requires great effort.

In the mid-19^th century the city limits of Brooklyn were not only legally defined, but were physically expanded with the rise of immigration and, in turn, development of the New York City boroughs.  While Prospect Park was not completed until 1867 in part, the City of Brooklyn had constructed a reservoir on Prospect Hill by 1856.  While development of the numbered streets between the park and the East River continued throughout the third quarter of the 19th century, there was a modest built context certainly by the 1850s.  Sewers and pavement of North 9^th Street were completed by 1861 with the additional development of row house dwellings for sale.  As early as 1868, No. 145, 147, and 149 North 9^th Street (now 262 9^th Street) were occupied by tradesman living and working in this specific place.  As per real estate maps of that period the lots contained several buildings including three “retorts” (manufacturing) wood buildings  at No. 145; the three-story wood frame dwelling at No. 147 (the current dwelling at 262 9^th Street); and a small retort at the rear of No. 145.  The complex of buildings/structures served builders, carpenters and masons alike, and by the early 1870s, a carpenter by the name of William Torbitt, an English immigrant, his Irish wife Betsy, and their five children were in residence at No. 147.  Also in the construction trades, the Henry Ball family was domiciled on the premises.  No doubt the labors of these early craftsman were representative in their own dwellings, as No. 147 was a wood house with the typical wood siding, wood doors, wood windows, wood shutters, and much much wood more.  All but the Greek Revival enframement about the front door has been covered in the most grotesque of synthetic sidings.  We know its a lot of work to paint a wood house, but since the “…transformation of individuals and families…” is a far more involved process, painting a house should be a piece of cake.  Yet they don’t understand that pride in place leads to pride in self.

By 1878, things had apparently been going well.  The house had been enlarged with a stylish Italianate addition into the parcel of No. 145 and another dwelling had been built on the parcel of No. 149.  Interestingly, the Torbitts would come and go, but were replaced by more families within the construction professions.  For example, in 1883, W.L. Langridge, Jr. advertised his family business at No. 147 North Ninth Street, Near Fourth Street, Brooklyn, E.D.—along with jobbing in general, the W.L., Jr., like his father was a mason and builder—as his grandfather had been a carpenter in England at the turn of the 19^th century.  And regardless occupancy length, or old man Langridge’s excessive gambling, the place certainly had a feeling of quality, workmanship and materials, a feeling that is confined within vinyl siding today—a one dimensional “quick fix” not quite in line with fostering “transformations” within communities.

While we understand that the relationship between this building and the organization’s goals is seemingly vague, there is a definite disconnect between person and place—between the organization’s mission and how they handle their own property. And they are not alone…  If the children knew that they lived in a “prosperous house,” if families understood that their house was built by a craftsman, or if the building were treated and kept beautifully by personal labor and maintenance, perhaps the constant change in policy would lead to a complete change of heart.  Just like the Catholic Church, agencies such as these claim that such is are trumped by the more “human issues,” but we know they are rooted together in the thing.

As it is, all that is fostered by this plastic wrapper (aka vinyl siding) is the idea that residences should require no real upkeep—that no effort to maintain beauty need be employed, no commitment to preserving and honoring the past be a priority, no understanding of craftsmanship or quality among one’s basic understandings—the result…a complete disregard for anything that isn’t quick, easy, and applied as it exists the assembly line…this is a prime example of how we have transformed “…individuals and families…” as well as neighborhoods and communities—all to soon thrown away for the newest and most fashionable of fleeting shiny objects…if they knew it were a prosperous house, perhaps a sense of pride may cometh before their unnecessary fall…

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