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Brooklyn Connections Educators Take on ABQ for NCHE Conference

Mar 31, 2014 2:00 PM | 0 comments

Earlier this month, Brooklyn Connections educators – Christine, Kaitlin and Brendan – descended on Albuquerque, New Mexico for the annual National Council for History Education (NCHE) Conference.




Excitement over this conference was twofold; well maybe three if you count the added bonus of temporarily escaping winter’s reach for a few glorious days …


Santa Clara, NM

… ok, twofold: 1) it offered the opportunity to replace our educator hats with those of students eager to soak up historical antidotes and best practices from colleagues around the country; and 2) Christine would accept the prestigious Paul A. Gagnon Prize, an award bestowed to the educator who contributes significantly to promoting history education in the U.S. You cannot imagine how proud we are of Christine and furthermore what her achievement says about the importance and relevancy of the Brooklyn Connections Program, and by extension the Brooklyn Collection as a whole – go Christine!

Christine's Paul A. Gagnon Prize

The two-day NCHE Conference presented a plethora of breakout sessions equally devoted to the Common Core State Standards (CCSS), an ever present thought in the minds of today’s educators, and using history, and specifically primary sources, to help students develop critical thinking and college readiness skills. Topics overlapped many of the new social movements curricula Brooklyn Connections is establishing thanks to the generosity of the David and Paula Weiner Memorial Grant, including gender, race and environmental issues. Topics of particular interest to Brooklyn Connections educators grappled with how to teach students to identify bias in historical dialogue, become self-reliant when searching for facts and make historical connections to self. It was especially pleasing to hear how valuable, if not completely essential, library and archival collections are to educators in their quest to teach these skills.

Day one’s keynote speaker, Patty Limerick, was a particular inspiration to us all. A faculty member at the University of Colorado, Patty candidly acknowledged the all-too-common fear educators encounter as they find themselves losing touch with new generations of students that don’t abide by the old order of learning (we can relate). However, she didn’t stop there; after admitting her fear and subsequent bitterness over the fact, Patty did what many of us don’t have the insight to do – she accepted it and made amends to cease judging and change herself to meet the needs of this new generation of students rather than sticking to what she felt comfortable with from the past (insert moment of pause).

Our intellect adequately filled we set off to satisfy some of our other appetites, including the following:




Sandia Peak Tramway

Santa Clara Pueblo

I think I speak for all the educators when I say how thankful I am for the experience.  We left the NCHE Conference with our tummies full of fine local cuisine and our brains full of new ideas and knowledge.  We look forward to putting our brains, at least, to good use back in Brooklyn!

"Brooklyn Bounce": book presentation and meeting with the author, Jake Appleman

Mar 21, 2014 11:00 AM | 0 comments

The book "Brooklyn Bounce: The Highs and Lows of Nets Basketball's Historic First Season in the Borough" documents the first year of the Brooklyn Nets. The arrival of the team and the rise of the Barclays Center was accompanied by much public discussion, heated at times. The sports writer Jake Appleman shadowed the team for the first year in Brooklyn and chronicled its many (sometimes unexpected) highs and lows.

To prepare yourself for the conversation, please take a look at the interview with Jake Appleman.

Join us this Wednesday evening, March 26, at 7:00p.m. in the Brooklyn Collection (Central Library, 2nd floor) as the author Jake Appleman discusses his book with Sam Dolnick, the deputy sports editor of The New York Times.

A wine and cheese reception, as well as distribution of tickets, will precede the event at 6:30 p.m. The Brooklyn Collection is located on the 2nd floor balcony of the Central Library at Grand Army Plaza. Seating is limited to 40.  

Prospect Park, Two by Two - Part Two

Mar 19, 2014 12:00 PM | 0 comments

This is the second part of a two-part blog post on the Prospect Park Zoo, read the first part here.

End radio silence.

"The good ship West Point has been heard from. All fears that the prowling warships of the European combatants had intercepted it and carried off the animals, perhaps to provide amusement for the Kaiser's grandsons or the young Russian Grand Dukes, have been laid to rest" (Brooklyn Daily Eagle, November 7, 1914). A few days later the animals arrived safely but, on the day of the grand parade and exhibition, it rained.

A lot.

Commissioner Ingersoll postponed the opening day until the following Saturday so all of the Brooklynites, who had put so much effort into securing the animals, could greet them. Yet not all was well on Prospect Lane. The Prospect Park Zoo now had nineteen bears confined to a space that should have accommodated six. The keepers were doing their best, using all available space, but the zoo was clearly crowded and undeniably insufficient. One might say the zoo was "bad news bears."

In November, the Brooklyn Citizens Committee was founded. It would morph into the Brooklyn Zoological Association the following month. The main focus of the new organization was to support the zoo and secure funds for a new facility. How they would secure the funds, however, was still very much up for debate. Commissioner Ingersoll proposed a new tax. Others preferred a pledge drive much like the one the Eagle had run. Lions are one thing, zoos are another. The new facility was slated to cost roughly $16,000. 

Prospect Park Menagerie card. 19-?, Brooklyn Collection. Brooklyn Public Library. 

On April 21st, 1916, with the help of Brooklyn's citizens, both average and high-profile, the first of three proposed wings opend to the public. 

Prospect Park Zoo, Brooklyn, N.Y., Postcard, 191-?, Brooklyn Collection, Brooklyn Public Library. 

Watching The Seals At Zoo, Brooklyn, N.Y., Postcard, 191-?, Brooklyn Collection, Brooklyn Public Library. 

The new facility had more room for the animals who currently resided at the zoo and additional space for more exotic animals. Chicken hawks arrived from outer Queens, homeless after their house took an unfortunate tumble. 

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, August 2, 1916.

Battalion C, Second Field Artillery, sent a wildcat and a coyote from the Texas border. Both animals were trapped for the express purposes of sending them to Prospect Park. Not the best way to acquire animals, no doubt, but I'm sure they meant well. 

On October 3rd, 1916, a polar bear moved into 12 Den Row. 

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 3, 1916.

"He did not do like a well-seasoned house hunter on moving in, however. He did not run around to see if the gas range was working, if the radiators leaked, an if the wall paper was unmarked. No; he simply yelped and plunged ker-flop into his bathtub" (Brooklyn Daily Eagle). New animals were not the only exciting development in 1916. A surprise letter from Francis Bostock, son of Frank Bostock, showed up at the zoo. Francis was stationed in Salonika and his mother had sent him a clipping from the Eagle detailing a very special birthday party. The party was for the daughter of a former family employee and the party's guest of honor (aside from the birthday girl) was Old Baltimore, one of Frank's lions. Francis sent his regards to all of the animals and expressed a hope that he might one day more to Brooklyn and see them again. 

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, April 20, 1916.

The Eagle reported on all of the new arrivals in great detail as well as, sadly, some unplanned departures.  Two lion cubs were brought to the zoo in October of 1916 after being born at sea to proud papa, Satan.

No, that isn't typo. 

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 15, 1916. 

Satan was one of the stars of a wild animal show at the New York Hippodrome. The cubs did not take well to their new surroundings and, after one of the cubs died in early January of 1917, the second cub began to lose its hair and refuse food. A month after its littermate passed, the second cub "died of distemper and grief... at last he turned up his toes and went that place where we are told the lion will lay down with the lamb - if it chooses a corner where the breeze will not carry to the lion the odor of mutton." One of the keepers remarked that "raising lion cubs seems to be as delicate an operation as growing eggplants" (Brooklyn Daily Eagle, February 13, 1917). I would venture that raising cubs is more challenging than growing eggplants. But what do I know?

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, February 13, 1917.

Not all departures were so tragic, nor so permanent. Bismark, a lion, choked on a large piece of meat during one of his feedings. The keeper had already walked away to continue his rounds and, upon his return, he found Bismark weak and losing consciousness. The keeper sprang into action, sticking a garden hose down the lion's throat in hopes that Bismark's reflexes would dislodge the obstruction. Huzzah, it worked! Bismark, I'm sure, took smaller bites from then on. 

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, March 4, 1918.

And what zoo tail (see what I did there?) would be complete without a good jailbreak? Meet Jimmie Coati, a sneaky Central-American cousin of the raccoon. Jimmie committed an unspeakable act and then used his nose to flip the latch on his pen and escape one warm July night. 

Maybe you think from the name "Jimmie" Coati, who most certainly did 'rock the boat' before they got him back in the pen, comes from the olive groves of sunny Italy. He does not; he is Mexican with a heart of a brigand and no soul, is James Coati. He proved it soon after he came to the park by blossoming out as the zoo's only criminal. Conceiving a violent dislike of his wife, he slew the old-lady one day, and since he eliminated her from the scheme of his little world he has lived a life of single blessedness. Finally, the one-eyed brigand was trapped and put back in his pen after his finger-prints had been taken. There is his now, very sour, with a bolt fastened to the catch which defies the nosiest nose that ever grows on coati. (Brooklyn Daily EagleJuly 16, 1916.)

As of 1923, just under a decade after the Eagle worked tirelessly to acquire a portion of the Bostock collection, the same Eagle remarked that the hand-me-down animals were dying and the new houses, all three wings having been completed, were crumbling. The Prospect Park Zoo would go through many more periods of great change over the course of the 20th century. It was taken over by the city in 1935 at the behest of Robert Moses, fell into ruin alongside much of New York in the 1970s and 80s, and was revitalized in the 1990s, as were the rest of the Wildlife Conservation Society's parks.

The Prospect Park Zoo has given millions of New Yorkers the chance to see the natural world up close. However dubious the origins of zoos, there is something irrefutably special about communing with nature.

And something even more special about challenging it to a (soda) drinking contest.

Bearing Up, Brooklyn Daily Eagle, August 12, 1949.

Soldier Boy vs. 4-year-old Victory Gangler. My money is on the bear. 

Prospect Park, Two by Two - Part One

Mar 13, 2014 12:52 PM | 1 comment

I have always had a fondness for zoos. I used to work with a zoological park in Washington State and volunteered with one here in New York City. I love that even though we live in an urban jungle we can travel to a jungle in Asia or South America for the price of a subway ride (and general admission). Zoos were not always magical places. Many of the early menageries and zoos collected animals by trapping them in the wild and placing them in cramped cages that looked nothing like their native environment. Today, the Wildlife Conservation Society, which runs the zoos and the aquarium here in New York (with the exception of the Staten Island Zoo; so independent, that Staten Island), works tirelessly to protect wildlife and the natural world. This desire to protect animals is actually something people have been passionate about for years. People - specifically Brooklynites. Protection - specifically from bombs. Read on! 

Paging Bo Peep, World News. March 25, 1945. 

(The above photo from the World News was found in the "morgue" and shows two tiny lambs in the London Zoo hiding from the Nazis. It doesn't have anything to do with this post, but look at how amazing it is!)

The original design for Prospect Park included a zoological garden which never came to fruition during the construction of the park in the 1860s. A fairly informal menagerie was created in 1890 to showcase a smattering of animals including elk and sheep. Many people found the animals to be quite a nuisance; they made noise and smelled like, well, animals.

Elks in Prospect Park, 190-?. Brooklyn Eagle Postcard Collection, 70. Brooklyn Collection, Brooklyn Public Library.

What's more, Manhattan already had a legitimate menagerie in Central Park (1864) which was nearly thirty years older and far more permanent than the one on the grassy knolls of Prospect Park.

As the 19th century came to a close, the menagerie began to acquire more animals and a permanent place within the park's identity. In 1898, the Prospect Park menagerie was one of the few places in the country to host a baby bison. This was (and remains, to me at least) super exciting.

Prospect Park's bison, identified as buffalo (a bit of a misnomer), in this print from the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, December 22, 1898.

By the turn of the century millions of bison had been slaughtered and there were thought to be no more than 1,000 left in the country. One of those supposed 1,000 lived in Prospect Park. He was big. He was brown. And, by all accounts, he was lonely. George V. Brower, the Parks Commissioner, had been searching the country for a female bison (cow) to bring to Brooklyn. This proved to be an insurmountable task, as most of the remaining animals were in private collections and could not be purchased. Serendipitously, Brower came into contact with a Kansas man had recently purchased a small herd from a tribe who could no longer care for them. The man was willing to sell one of his newly acquired cows. This was a lucky break for Brower (and for the cow) as the man had purchased the herd with plans of slaughtering them for winter meat.

Side Note: The idea of slaughtering a herd of critically endangered animals makes my heart hurt.

So, for $500 and the cost of shipping, the Prospect Park bison was given a mate. When the cow arrived via Wells-Fargo wagon "the delight of the lonesome bull at seeing one of his own kind was a cheerful spectacle. They rubbed noses though the bars in a most affectionate manner. In a very short time they were given the same cage, and were friends from the moment this was done" (Brooklyn Daily Eagle, December 22, 1898). Commissioner Brower was exceedingly proud of his purchase. I'm pretty happy with his purchase, too. I am a big fan of the buffalo.

Over the years, both the Central Park Zoo and the Bronx Zoo (here is where I switch from 'menagerie' to 'zoo', as the words were being used interchangeably since the early 20th century) padded the Prospect Park Zoo with 'extra' animals, among them bears and coyotes. Other donations came in from private collections. In July of 1900, the zoo opened a flying bird cage (a cage for flying birds, not a cage that flew) and also acquired "a Columbian black-tailed deer, a pronghorn antelope, five swift foxes, two gray wolves, six woodchucks, two red foxes, four American flamingos, one dusky horned owl, and two coral snakes" (Brooklyn Daily Eagle, July 8, 1900). 

New Bear Cage in Prospect Park, 190-?. Brooklyn Eagle Postcard Collection, 10. Brooklyn Collection, Brooklyn Public Library.

Not to be outdone by other boroughs, Brookynites began calling for an updated park to match the grandeur of New York City's other zoological gardens. But if the zoo in Prospect Park was to be taken seriously it needed an influx of even more new animals and a more modern facility to keep them in.

Cue Frank Bostock.

Bostock Arena, Dreamland, Coney Island, N.Y. circa 1905. Library of Congress. 

Frank Bostock was an entertainment mogul in true 19th century fashion. The Bostock family had been involved in traveling circuses for decades in both England and abroad. His animal shows contained all the drama of the circus (if circuses are your thing): lion tamers, acrobatic bears, and snake charmers. As of 1903, 'Bostock's Wild Animal Show' had a permanent home in Dreamland, one of the amusement parks at Coney Island. He also had a reputation for animal cruelty, but that's a another post.

1911 was a bad year for both Bostock and Coney Island. Dreamland caught fire and burned to the ground. Tragically, few of Bostock's animals could be saved from the blaze. Frank Bostock would follow the next year, dying at 46 years old of a stroke. His animal shows would continue, but on a smaller scale. 

Dreamland fire, 1911. Brooklyn Collection, Brooklyn Public Library. 

Cue WWI.

Out of the frying pan, as they say. As of July, 1914, Europe was at war. Bostock's European animal collection needed a new, safe home, and fast. Some of the animals were quickly purchased by Hollywood, others by zoological associations, and a few went to other wild animal shows. In October of that year, Brooklyn threw its hat into the mix by purchasing 70 animals of her very own. Lions don't come cheap, however.

Cue Brooklynites.

The Brooklyn Daily Eagle spearheaded a project to raise money to purchase the animals. The debt was to be paid before the animals were shipped. Readers were asked to send in donations to 'buy' the animals for the Prospect Park Zoo. Anyone who purchased an animal would be given the right to (re)name it. 

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 18, 1914.

When the money started rolling in, the Eagle felt confident they could pay the bill and officially purchased the animals and ordered the whole lot shipped. "Hurrah! The animals for the Prospect Park zoo are by now on the high seas en route from England to America and Prospect Park. It was a veritable Noah's Ark that embarked today and the lions roared, the bears gave grunts of satisfaction, and the monkeys chattered vigorously, no doubt speculating on all the fun they would have when they ensconced in the new zoo..." (Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 21, 1914). 

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 18, 1914.

The total cost was $3000. Roughly $2000 was to be the responsibility of the citizens of Brooklyn. Parks Commissioner (and later Borough President) Raymond Ingersoll urged all Brooklynites to participate. He called on kids to send in their milk money, called on grandparents to buy gifts for their grandchildren, called on all Brooklyn fathers to donate $1, and even called on park employees. Employees of Prospect Park ended up buying three bears. When your boss tells you to buy a bear, you ask how many. 

Henry Milton's Junior Eagle Zoological Society Membership Card, 1914. Brooklyn Collection.

If the animals were purchased in segments, the owners had to agree upon a name. It turns out naming zoo animals can be a fairly divisive process. The Berkely Institute (now the Berkely-Carroll School in Park Slope) purchased 1/2 a lion. "The Berkely Institute has decided that it wants that part of the lion that roars, being that part which takes in the head and the front legs, and the more noise that it makes the better... they do not care as to what the name will be, as far as that is concerned. It can be called Dave, Tom or Jerry. It must be a lion with a heavy, shaggy mane, and they probably prefer the name Dave to any other" (Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 19, 1914). This put the lion in an interesting predicament. Who would purchase the back half? Dave Porter, apparently, a real estate agent with northern Irish roots. Porter was happy to purchase the lion's rear as long as he could pick both the name and gender.

After some careful thought, however, the Berkely Institute changed their mind. 1/2 a lion was not sufficient. They wanted the whole shebang. Thus, the lion was thrown back into limbo. Now, the front 1/2 was up for grabs!

As troubling as lion purchasing can be, it can also unite nations. Yes, it is that powerful. A letter came to the Eagle on October 26th, 1914.

Dave Porter's half lion must not be allowed longer to suffer. We've got home rule in Ireland now and there is no reason why a South of Ireland man shouldn't be proud to own half a lion with a North of Ireland man. Buy me the other half of Dave Porter's lion and let it typify 'Unified Ireland' in the new zoo. But I want the better half, just the same. If Dave feels otherwise, why we'll have to fight it out in good old Irish style, though, of course, as an Irishman I'm not looking for a fight. - Mr. Jack Ryan

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 26, 1914.

The collection continued to grow. On October 25th, Mrs. G. V. Cartwright inquired about an animal she could purchase in full, making it clear that she would not be sharing. Thus, because of Mrs. Cartwright's generosity (and originality?), the zoo got a kangaroo named The Brooklyn Daily Eagle. (Eat your heart out, North West.) Mr. Charles Higgins bought a leopard, the most expensive animal at the collection valued at $150, and named him Gowane. The Orpheum Theater bought a bear and, even if the bear couldn't sing, his name was to be Orpheum. 

Not all of the animals were coming via ark, however. Mrs. Ruth Hill donated two small alligators for whom Commissioner Ingersoll had to scramble to create some sort of special enclosure. It was not explained where she got them nor where she had been keeping them. I'm guessing sewer and bathtub, respectively. Madam Adgie, a patriotic Brooklynite and circus performer whose trained lions rivaled Bostock's, donated a lion cub and the 'services' of a male lion for breeding purposes. Generosity abounds!

Every day the Eagle would publish a list of the animals still available for purchase.

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 19, 1914. 

The Eagle began to beseech residents to donate any money they could, as the animals were slated to arrive on November 11th and, at that time, the bill needed to be settled. The representative for the Bostock family felt that raising a mere $2000 should be very doable. In fact, he felt that selling the animals for a mere $2000 was akin to robbery. " 'Why, the lions [that] sold for $100,' said [the Bostock representative] "are worth $400 on the spot, and the other animals in proportion and do you know this is costing us nearly $2000, two thirds of the $3000 we are getting, just for transportation?' " (Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 18, 1914). Needless to say, his harangue did nothing to dampen Brooklyn's spirits as it geared up for the November 11th parade. 

Radio silence.

The ark, having left London, was somewhere in the mid-Atlantic.


Brooklyn held her breath.

What if the boat sank?

What if the boat was captured by enemy combatants?

What if, what if, what if?

Stay tuned for Prospect Park, Two by Two - Part Two!