Blog - For The Record — NYC Department of Records & Information Services

April 1825 - Not Just Murder and Mayhem

Municipal Archives and Library collections are justifiably renowned for their value in documenting the history of New York City. Generations of researchers exploring the events and decisions that shaped the city have been rewarded with rich resources, often in great abundance. Mayoral correspondence, and proceedings and records of the legislative bodies are just two examples of materials that illuminate broad topics in New York City and American urban history. Other collections, such as the Brooklyn Bridge and Central Park drawings, building permits, tax assessments, and the administrative records of Parks, Health, Education, and dozens of other municipal departments all contribute to answering the “how” and “why” questions about City history.  

Sarah Campion, Deposition, 1825. Police Court Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Equally important, however, are records that tell us about the people of the city, not just the property-owning classes, political leaders, or its wealthier residents. Census and vital records provide basic facts. But are there records depicting life in New York City one hundred, or even two hundred years ago?    

Yes there are, and of all the collections that illustrate daily life, some of the most useful sources are the several series pertaining to the administration of criminal justice. For many New Yorkers, their interactions with municipal government that took place in a criminal context may be the only evidence of their existence and provide details of their lives not otherwise known.  

Depositions drawn from these judicial records give us a snapshot of the City during the first weeks of April, 1825. 

“Mark Wiley… being examined says he is 19 years of age, has no place to live at present, got out of employment three weeks since, did steal the clothing with the intention to wear [the items] …”  

Conrad Brinkman, Deposition, 1825. Police Court Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

This deposition is recorded in the complaint of two women who resided at 259 Duane Street. On April 2, 1825, Catharine Carman stated that “Mark Wiley . . . stole one pair pantaloons of the value one dollar and cotton drawers of the value of two dollars.” On the same day, Sarah Campion, also of 259 Duane Street, added her complaint, stating that Mark Wiley stole two pair stockings, one flannel shirt and three cotton shirts.  

The facts of this case can be found in containers labeled simply “Police Court.” The 20 cubic feet in the series date from 1807 to 1830. The Police Court, however, did not come into existence until 1848. Furthermore, many of the documents in the series consist of printed forms that state the defendant, “... may be bound by recognizance to be of good behavior, and keep the peace, and to answer for the above assault, etc. at the next Court of General Sessions of the Peace.” Further research will be necessary, but it is likely that City archivists will refine the collection description to more accurately reflect its provenance.  

Returning to the “Police Court” records from the first days of April 1825, we find Conrad Brinkman’s deposition from April 11, 1825. Mr. Brinkman, of 151 Leonard Street says the house adjoining his residence at 151 Leonard Street, is a disorderly house, kept by Mrs. Parks, “...where black and white men and boys come at all hours of the night cursing and swearing using all kinds of indecent language so as to disturb the peace and good order of society.”   

Perhaps less dramatic, but alive with detail, is the deposition of Daniel H. Carpenter. According to his statement taken on April 4, 1825, Carpenter said that he is “19 years of age, is a shoemaker by trade, has been in the city since November last.” His parents live in Pleasant Valley and he boards at no. 33 Suffolk Street. He admitted that he went into Mr. Edward Windusts’ shop and ate oysters with the spoon that he is charged with stealing. The description of the crime is a little unclear, but it seems that Carpenter pocketed the spoon after finishing the oysters and when he realized he was being pursued he threw the spoon over a fence.  

William Land, Deposition, 1825. Police Court Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

A description of early labor activism comes from the April 12, 1825, testimony of William Land. According to the 1825 Longworth’s City Directory, Land was a tailor, residing at 43 Dey Street. Land stated Alexander Brown, and several others from the “Society of Tailors” threatened to assault him if he refused to join them “for the purpose of raising the wages of journeymen tailors.”   

Joseph H. Raynor, Deposition, 1825. Police Court Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The folder of documents from the first two weeks of April also includes two dozen cases of assault and battery. Joseph H. Raynor, of 47 Arundel Street accused his master, Solomon Fanning of Catherine Street, a cabinet-maker, with beating him without “sufficient” justification. It is likely that Raynor had been apprenticed to Fanning. The case was dismissed.   

Laurence Fitzgerald, Deposition, 1825. Police Court Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Several of the assault and battery charges involved husbands and wives. Laurence Fitzgerald of no. 13 Torbert Street, a carpenter, stated that he was “violently assaulted and beaten by Elizabeth Fitzgerald his wife who was in the habit of getting intoxicated and beating him.” Ellen Wilson, a Black, of no. 55 Henry Street deposed that her husband James Wilson knocked her down and kicked her.     

Felix Duponchet, Deposition, 1825. Police Court Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

And then there is Felix Duponchet. A resident of no. 11 Gold Street, Duponchet swore that on the first day of April 1825, at the Second Ward of the City of New York… he was violently assaulted and beaten by Charles Duval a fencing teacher, at the corner of Greenwich and Courtland Streets without any justification on the part of the said assailant…”   

Jury conviction, John McKeeb, Police Court Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Records pertaining to felony prosecutions, e.g. docket books, minutes of court sessions, case file documents, etc. have been described and preserved in the Municipal Archives. Researching the felony prosecution files for the first days of April 1825 reveals several prosecutions for petit larceny, such as the conviction of John McKeeb, a laborer, for stealing “one cheese of the value of two dollars.”  

News article regarding Eliza Hughes from the Evening Post, 1825. Police Court Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In another case, Eliza Hughes was indicted for false pretenses. A newspaper article appended to the case file helps clarify Hughes’ scheme and the charges.  

The case file for Unity Gallagher records that she was a “spinster not having the fear of God before her eyes, but moved and seduced by the instigation of the devil,” to murder John Gallagher. She plead ‘not guilty’ on April 7, 1825.  

The many series pertaining to the administration of criminal justice in the Municipal Archives span almost four centuries. They are complex and reflect the ever-changing evolution of the court system. Municipal archivists will continue to evaluate and refine information about the collections.  In the meantime, researchers are invited to explore the collections and may find out about violent “fencing teachers” and nascent labor activists in the garment industry. 

On the Scene: Eugene de Salignac’s Photographs of Traffic Safety

BPS 8214: Williamsburg Bridge, view showing [electric] auto truck, south roadway between Bedford and Driggs Avenue, Brooklyn, June 5, 1923.

Eugene de Salignac served as Photographer for the Department of Plant & Structures (originally the Department of Bridges) from 1906 to 1934. During this time, the agency took on many of the functions that would later be taken over by the Department of Transportation and the MTA. When I wrote New York Rises: Photographs by Eugene de Salignac (Aperture 2007), I included a chapter “Accidents.” In it I wrote: “An important part of de Salignac’s job seems to have been photographing accidents that occurred on or under New York bridges or that involved city-operated bus lines. These were documents made for the City’s Corporation Counsel to use in possible legal cases or to show needed repairs to damaged property. Often de Salignac arrived at the scene within minutes of the incident before passengers had even been evacuated.” What I did not cover in the book were the ways that the Plant & Structures agency tried to address the growing problem of traffic safety. This week’s “For the Record” takes another look at these photos.

BPS 8215: Williamsburg Bridge, view showing [electric] auto truck, south roadway between Bedford and Driggs Avenue, Brooklyn, June 5, 1923.

BPS III 2022: Manhattan Bridge, view showing auto damaged by accident, February 23, 1924.

BPS 5880: Park Circle stage line accident 11:30 a.m., close view, December 6, 1919.

BPS 4974: Lenox Avenue Bridge 145th Street showing accident to auto, Bronx approach north side, July 10, 1917.

BPS 7226: Vernon Avenue Bridge view showing accident to auto truck, May 15, 1922.

BPS IV 1874: Queensboro Bridge, Queens view showing automobile accident, June 11, 1920.

BPS III 1848: Manhattan Bridge view showing auto [taxi] damaged by accident in roadway north side at point 51 looking east from roadway, main span, October 23, 1918.

BPS III 1295: Manhattan Bridge Brooklyn showing accident, J. Ruppert auto truck from subway wall, November 13, 1913. This strange looking vehicle is another electric delivery truck, which were quite common in the City in the early part of the 20th Century.

Nineteenth-century New York was not without traffic accidents. People were struck and killed by horse-drawn carriages and trolley cars with some regularity, and the first recorded automobile accident was on May 30, 1896. However, the early twentieth century saw all manner of new and faster vehicles on the streets of New York, both gas-powered and electric. The introduction of the Model T in 1908 made gas-powered cars ubiquitous and by the nineteen-teens they dominated the roadways. With little in the way of traffic signs or rules of the road, accidents were inevitable. Early cars were not equipped with safety features and accidents were often fatal. In 1913, The New York Times (in an article entitled “Death Harvest”) reported that from 1911 to 1912 the number of people killed from horse-drawn vehicles decreased from 211 to 177, and from streetcars from 148 to 134, but automobile fatalities had risen from 112 to 221. Almost all were pedestrians. In comparison, in January of this year, the Times reported that 2024 had experienced a surge in pedestrian deaths, which had jumped from 101 in 2023 to 119.

BPS IV 2577: Queensboro Bridge showing accident to auto, May 22, 1933.

BPS 7267: 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue view showing Plants & Structures Commissioner Grover Whalen at grand opening for new signal tower for Police Department, June 16, 1922.

BPS 7524: 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue, erecting signal tower, Police Department, December 13, 1922. In the background can be seen the original 1920 signal tower. The new tower is flat on the truck.

BPS 7524: 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue, erecting signal tower, Police Department, December 13, 1922. The new bronze signal tower, designed by Joseph H. Freedlander, being hoisted into place.

BPS 8435: Traffic Tower 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue view of tower, October 18, 1923.

BPS 8436: Traffic Tower 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue view of tower “close,” October 18, 1923.

The first electric traffic lights came about in the nineteen teens, but New York City did not get one until 1920. It was a tall tower with a wooden shed from which a police officer manually controlled the lights. It was installed at Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street, under the oversight of Dr. John F. Harriss, the City’s first traffic commissioner. A typed report from 1953 in the Municipal Library “vertical files” states that “The first traffic towers were in use March 11, 1920, at 34th, 38th, 42nd, 50th and 57th Streets and were painted white with black trim. These towers were replaced by more elaborate ones provided by the Fifth Avenue Association in 1922-3.” A police patrolman in each tower manually operated the signals, though in 1926, a system was installed so that one operator could control the signals in all the towers.

In 1924, the City started installing more towers, mostly at busy intersections in Brooklyn. The first independent traffic lights appeared in 1928, marking the end for the system of traffic towers. A 1928 City Record report by the Department of Plant & Structures notes extensive contracts for the installation of lights: 22 on 10th Avenue and Amsterdam Avenue, 17 on 4th Avenue in Brooklyn, 19 in Queens, 14 along 125th Street, and a smattering in the Bronx. Lights were not yet installed on Staten Island. A completely automated system for Manhattan went into operation on March 8, 1929, and on May 7th the demolition of the old towers began.

BPS 8949: Ceremony at opening of traffic towers Grant Square, Brooklyn, June 17, 1924.

BPS 9018: Police traffic light at Broadway and Vesey Street, July 9, 1924.

BPS 9019: [Crowd at opening of] Police traffic light at Broadway and Vesey Street, July 9, 1924.

Although they were short-lived, the traffic towers had been met with much fanfare when they opened. De Salignac seems to have dashed between many on the same night more than once. His photographs of these towers, all similar, but all different, bring to mind the images of water towers and other industrial structures taken by the conceptual German photographers Bernd and Hilla Becher in the 1960s and 1970s. Enjoy.

Above: Traffic towers along Bedford Avenue, Brooklyn, May 16, 1924.

Above: Traffic Tower Lights, March 5, 1926. Location unknown.

BPS 10053: Traffic tower lights, March 5, 1926.

Above, left and center: Manhattan Bridge showing signal tower, January 15, 1924.

Right: Manhattan Bridge, view showing signal tower Manhattan end of new roadway where auto collided, February 23, 1924.

BPS 11860: Traffic lights, Ocean Avenue and Caton Avenue, August 4, 1928.

BPS 11741: Traffic light and post damaged at 34th Street and Lexington Avenue, May 17, 1928.


All photographs above by Eugene de Salignac, Department of Bridges/Plant & Structures Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Sources:

In 2014, Christopher Gray (a cherished and missed friend of this agency) wrote about the history of New York’s Traffic lights in his popular New York Times “Streetscapes” column:

https://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/18/realestate/a-history-of-new-york-traffic-lights.html

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/01/01/nyregion/walkable-new-york-city-became-deadlier-for-pedestrians-in-2024.html

For more on the Bechers: https://spruethmagers.com/artists/bernd-hilla-becher/

History of Reproductive Rights in New York City - Exhibit

This week, the Department of Records and Information Services opened a ‘pop-up’ exhibit on the history of reproductive rights in New York. It begins in 1828, when providing an abortion after quickening first became illegal, and traces the story to the present day, highlighting the city’s current reputation as a national leader in the fight to protect women’s reproductive rights.

1916 handbill in English, Yiddish, and Italian advertising Margaret Sanger’s first birth control clinic at 46 Amboy Street in the Brownsville section of Brooklyn. Margaret Sanger, My Fight for Birth Control, NYC Municipal Library.

The new exhibit uses historical documents, photographs, and ephemera to depict the evolution of the laws governing abortion from criminality to full access. It begins with the 1828 New York State law that made it a misdemeanor for a provider to induce abortion after “quickening.”

March held during Abortion Action Week, May 6, 1972. New York Police Department Special Investigations Unit Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Bottle with cork. Exhibit in case: People vs. Elizabeth Klurk (Abortion), April 29, 1878. This bottle with its unknown residue, contained a solution intended to induce abortion. NY DA Indictment Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Items from Municipal Archives collections created by the criminal justice system illustrate how New York criminalized women who obtained abortions. The 1871 indictment against Jacob Rosenzweig is on view. The City prosecuted Rosenzweig, a former saloonkeeper, for murder after performing a botched abortion on Alice Augusta Bowlsby and stuffing the woman in a trunk, where she died. Other items in the display focus on the former seamstress Caroline Ann Trow Lohman, aka Madame Restell, also prosecuted for performing abortions. Documents about Margaret Sanger and her sister document her journey through the criminal justice system for sharing birth control information illustrate her story. 

Inquisition into the death of Alice Augusta Bowlsby, 1871. Jacob Rosenzweig, a former saloonkeeper, was prosecuted by the City for murder after performing a botched abortion on Bowlsby and stuffing her body in a trunk. NY DA Indictment Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

The exhibit also includes photographs from the New York Police Department Crime Scene Photograph collection in the Municipal Archives that graphically illustrate the un-hygienic locations where illegal abortions were performed.

Scene of bedroom where a 20 year old woman received an illegal abortion and later died in Manhattan General Hospital, July 14, 1932. NYPD Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Charts from the Department of Health and Mental Hygiene track how thousands of women from across the country relied on City health providers for safe, legal reproductive health care after 1970 when New York State decriminalized abortion and before the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision.

The exhibit uses pamphlets, buttons, and items from the mayoral collections to tell the story through the last decades of the 20th century as the City fought to protect women’s reproductive rights. The show concludes with a copy of the 2024 Sexual and Reproductive Health Bill of Rights further enshrined New York City’s commitment to protecting reproductive rights.

The exhibit is free to the public. It is located at the Municipal Archives, 31 Chambers Street, Manhattan, Room 103, New York, NY 10007. It is open from 9 a.m. to noon, and 1 p.m. to 4 p.m., Monday through Friday.

Transcribing Records of Enslaved New Yorkers

New York City Mayor Eric Adams recently announced an ambitious project at the Department of Records and Information Services to make accessible historical records documenting thousands of formerly enslaved New Yorkers. The records in the Municipal Archives date from 1660 through 1827 when New York State abolished the practice of slavery.

Slave and School Records in Kings County, 1799-1819. Old Town Records, Gravesend, NYC Municipal Archives.

The records are part of the Old Town Records collection. This series includes records created by the towns and villages in Kings, Queens, Richmond, and Westchester Counties prior to consolidation in 1898. Recently processed and partially digitized during a project funded by the National Historical Publications & Records Commission, the records provide unique documentation of communities now part of the Greater City of New York. Over the course of the processing project, For the Record published several articles tracking progress and highlighting aspects of this collection. Processing the Old Town Records Collection, Oyster Boards in the Old Town Records and The Genealogical Possibilities of Manumissions in the Old Town Records are a few of the articles.

This week, For the Record interviewed Arafua Reed for information about the transcription project and how interested persons can volunteer to participate. Arafua is a City Service Corps volunteer with AmeriCorps and NYC Service, currently serving as DORIS’ DEIA Coordinator.

For The Record: Arafua, what are the records that are being transcribed?

Arafua Reed: It’s going to be a phased project. The focus of phase one is birth certificates and manumission documents, along with some court minutes from the Old Town Records collection. During the second phase we will transcribe information recorded in other collections such as the Records of New Amsterdam and the Common Council.  

FTR:  Can you tell us about the provenance of these records?

AR:  Most of these documents resulted from the Act for the Gradual Abolition of Slavery enacted by New York State in 1799. The law stated that children born to enslaved women after July 4, 1799, would be legally declared “free.” Since these children were still considered property with material value, this came with a loophole that their freedom would become valid only after a certain amount of time had elapsed—25 years of age for women, and 28 years for men—meanwhile these children were still required to work. Therefore, enslavers were required to record the children’s births on legal documents.

Certificate of Birth for Harry, a male child born on October 25, 1804, reported by John Vanderbilt on September 5 1805. Records of the Town of Flatbush, Old Town Records collection, NYC Municipal Archives..

Enslaved people born prior to July 4, 1799, were re-categorized as indentured servants; this language (using “servant” instead of “slave”) appears throughout the manumission documents. Typically, the document includes the enslavers statement reporting the birth, and a corresponding certification of its accuracy by the town clerk. In rare instances, there is text in a will document freeing an enslaved person.

FTR:  Do you know about how many individuals will be identified by the transcription project?

Birth records, ledger, 1826, Town of Flatlands, Old Town Records collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

AR: There are about 1,300 birth and manumission records in the books slated for transcription during this phase.

FTR:  Please describe the transcription process.

AR: The Municipal Archives is using an online service called From The Page for the transcription project. Once logged-in, volunteers will click on a book and select a page. Or, they can click “Start Transcribing” (just above the list of volumes) and will be taken to a random page that hasn’t been worked on yet. The format of volunteer submissions are split into two sections: there’s a text area field, where the entire page will be transcribed in full. Just below this text box is a spreadsheet, where volunteers will insert the information about children born to enslaved mothers.

We’re asking that volunteers type what they see and to keep in mind the transcription tips that sit in the middle of every page. It’s an easy process to get into; reading some of the handwriting is probably the most difficult part of it.

FTR:  Are transcribers provided any assistance with reading the hand-written records?

Birth records, 1810-1811, transcribed in ledger, Town of Flatlands, Old Town Records collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

AR: That’s my current responsibility. There’s a convenient Notes and Questions box under each transcription page, so if volunteers need help with some of the words, or if they want a review of something very specific on one of their pages, or even if they find something interesting, they can send that message there. These notes are public, so if volunteers want to engage with someone else’s comments, they can.

FTR:  How will you make sure that the transcribers do not make mistakes?

AR: That is another part of my responsibility. I don’t expect anyone to complete these pages to perfection and, when I see mistakes, I can easily correct them. I’m currently reviewing the submissions page by page, but there are ways for volunteers to note specific pages that they need help with. After a submission is all typed out, volunteers can check a box by the Preview and Save buttons that says, “Needs Review.” This lets me know that a transcriber would like someone to look over the work before it’s considered complete. These notes are very helpful for me to track progress. In some cases, I might need to adjust the transcription conventions to include things that people struggle with often.

Certificate of Birth for Henry Lynes, a male child, born on November 5, 1804, reported by Simeon Buck, November 26, 1804. Records of the Town of Flatbush, Old Town Records collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

FTR:  How will the transcribed information be made available?

The Archives will publish the birth records as a database in Collection Guides. In addition, the Archives has curated a sub-collection for birth records of enslaved people and a webpage on archives.nyc devoted to holdings featuring Records of Slavery and Emancipation.

FTR:  It looks like a significant impediment to using manumission records to trace ancestry is the lack of surnames. In the example below, we know that “Tom” was born on March 28, 1806, to “Bet,” but we do not know their surnames. Do you have any advice about how to overcome this impediment?

Certificate of Birth for Tom a male child born on March 28, 1806 to Bet, reported by George Lott on September 27, 1806. Records of the Town of Flatlands, Old Town Records collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

AR: We suggest that researchers try using vital record collections of the communities where enslaved persons resided. Given that we know the date of birth and a first name, and if the formerly enslaved person remained in the community, it might be possible to find additional demographic information in vital records. The Municipal Archives collection of vital records includes records of birth, death and marriage in many of the Old Town communities.

FTR:  What should a person do if interested in participating in the project?

AR:  To start working, a volunteer can visit the Records of Slavery page that lives on the website.

Daylight Savings Time

Unfortunately, it is time again for that semi-annual ritual: changing your timepieces to reflect Daylight Savings Time. 

Sundial, Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, September 1937. Photographer: E.M. Bofinger. WPA Federal Writers’ Project photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Spring forward. Fall back. Most have heard this axiom that reminds us of how to shift time. And on Sunday, March 9, we will be springing forward and, in many cases, grumbling about it and wondering, “When did this practice start and for what purpose?”

Interestingly, a folder in the collection of former Mayor John Purroy Mitchel (1914-1917), provides some context. Titled “Conventions-New York Daylight Savings Committee,” the folder contains various communications from 1916 and 1917.   

In May, 1916, Marcus M. Marks, President of the Borough of Manhattan announced a conference on “Turning the Clock Forward” to be held later in the month. He invited City merchants and organizations to participate. The announcement noted that Cleveland, Ohio was a leader in the practice of adjusting time, along with various European cities. New York was behind the times.  

New York Daylight Savings Committee, Invitation, 1917. Mayor John Purroy Mitchel Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

New York Daylight Savings Committee, Acceptance, 1917. Mayor John Purroy Mitchel Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Conference attendees recommended forming a committee (a time-honored manner of resolving matters). The New York Daylight Savings Committee, based in the Borough President’s office and chaired by Marks, consisted of leaders from civic organizations, law firms, financial trusts, unions, manufacturers, and academia.

In January 1917, the Committee launched the idea of a Convention that would be addressed by Senators, Governors, Mayors, and others. Marks authored a column, “Health and Wealth in Daylight” in the newspaper Evening Sun attributing the idea of daylight savings time to “the brain of Benjamin Franklin over 135 years ago.” He wrote that “In 1784, Franklin estimated that the city of Paris that year would save in its lighting bills the somewhat exaggerated sum of $19,000,000.”

The article also refuted opponents claims: “It has been suggested that all the advantages could be obtained without turning the clock ahead, by rising and retiring an hour earlier. The answer is that we would not do it; and if we tried it we would find ourselves out of harmony with our surroundings….  There is an element of psychology in this movement. It would be quite an effort for those accustomed to arise at seven o’clock to get up at six. But when the clock says seven, habit asserts itself, and in a few days no one remembers that the clock has been turned ahead.”

Daylight Saving, by Harold Jacoby, comparison chart. New York Daylight Savings Committee, 1917. Mayor John Purroy Mitchel Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Much of the rationale included in the column was pulled from a paper written by Harold Jacoby, the Rutherford Professor of Astronomy at Columbia University. He explained the value of changing the clocks instead of changing schedules. “It is almost certain that if the factory whistles that now blow at seven should be sounded at six instead, something like an insurrection would occur among the workers. Therefore, the new plan proposes to attain the result by changing the clocks instead of the whistles.”

Mayor Mitchel accepted the invitation to address the convention at a lunch to be held at the grand ballroom at the Hotel Astor on January 30, 1917. He also appointed the required ten delegates to consider the concept.      

National Daylight Saving Convention and Luncheon, agenda, January 30, 1917. Mayor John Purroy Mitchel Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

The impetus for changing the clocks originated in England but was first successfully implemented in Germany in 1916. Great Britain and France soon also adopted the system. The mayoral records fail to indicate that this occurred in the middle of World War I (1914-1918), when the goal was to reduce civilian energy use so those resources could be directed to the war effort. Adoption of the approach by both sides of the conflict is noteworthy.

The United States Congress passed legislation to create universal daylight savings time in 1918 and repealed the law in 1920. During World War II, Congress again established the program and again repealed it when the war ended. In 1966, President Lyndon Baines Johnson signed the Uniform Time Act that standardized time zones in the country and brought back Daylight Savings Time. The start and end dates varied each time the law was revised. Currently, daylight savings runs from the second Sunday in March and ends on the first Sunday in November (which usually is also the date of the New York City Marathon).      

New York Daylight Saving Committee to Mayor Mitchel, 1917. Mayor John Purroy Mitchel Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

The start and end days have always been Sundays, and the Mitchel folder contains an explanation. In 1883, the nation’s railroad companies introduced a standard system for railway timetables that established time zones and eliminated dozens of confusing locally set times. The new standard required uniformity in timetables. For travelers, the resulting schedule adjustments led to criticism. When daylight savings time was implemented in 1918, train travelers were a prime consideration: “Only continental through trains actually between stations on the critical Sunday nights near May 1 and September 30 might possibly offer some difficulty. It is for this reason that these dates are placed on Sunday, and at an hour after midnight, when few trains are in motion,” wrote Professor Jacoby.

So, in 2025, as we adjust our clocks, America’s long-lost (declined??) passenger railway system still runs the show.

The S.S. United States

Shortly before noon on Wednesday, February 19, 2025, the luxury superliner S.S. United States began its final voyage. With news helicopters hovering overhead and escorted by five tugs, the largest passenger ship ever built in America slowly departed its berth in Philadelphia, bound for Florida’s panhandle. Its last journey will end 180 feet beneath the sea where the great liner will become the world’s largest artificial reef. News media marked the solemn occasion: “The S.S. United States Is Going Down for Good,” read the front-page headline in The New York Times on Friday, February 21, 2025.

The S.S. United States and the S.S. America, New York harbor, April 7, 1963. Department of Marine and Aviation Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

In a striking contrast, more than seventy years ago, the S. S. United States made the front page of the Times on a decidedly happier occasion: “Six Hour Welcome Greets New Liner on First Trip Here.” (June 24, 1952.)  The New York Daily News story that day trumpeted “The Queenly U.S. Gets N.Y.’s Bow.” In their coverage of the event, another of New York’s numerous newspapers, the Daily Mirror, described the scene: “The nation’s new queen of the seas, the superliner United States, yesterday gingerly threaded her way through a harbor clogged with hundreds of shrilling small craft and, under a canopy of helicopters, blimps and planes, majestically eased her white-and-ebony bulk up against her pier after the most tremendous welcome ever accorded a vessel here.”

Menu cover for luncheon aboard the S.S. United States, Pier 86, New York City, August 20, 1952, in honor of the Mayor’s Reception Committee, to commemorate its outstanding performance on the occasion of the arrival of the S.S. United States, in New York Harbor, July 15, 1952. Grover Whalen Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

1952 Sailing Schedule, S.S. United States, Grover Whalen Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Daily News story reported that the ship’s Captain, Commodore Harry Manning, speculated that on her upcoming first transatlantic voyage, his new command might make a bid for the transatlantic speed record. As it happened, Manning’s prediction proved exactly correct. On its return from Southampton, England to New York, the giant superliner did indeed break the speed record, and on July 18, 1952, New York City went all-out to celebrate the achievement with a ticker-tape parade.

To research the story of the American superliner and the City’s welcoming event, researchers can turn to Municipal Archives collections. The Mayor Impellitteri records, and the files of the Mayor’s Reception Committee, then under the direction of City Greeter Grover Whelan, are an especially rich resource. In addition, the Department of Ports and Trades photograph collection provides unique visual documentation.

Spectators awaiting arrival of the S. S. United States, Pier 86, United States Line, Hudson River, June 23, 1952. Department of Marine and Aviation photograph collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

By the early 1950s, Whalen had perfected the art of staging a ticker-tape parade. He organized thirty-three parades in just three years from 1949 through 1952. Researchers reviewing collection contents will quickly see that no detail was too small for Whalen and his staff as they planned for the ticker-tape parade, City Hall reception, and luncheon at the Waldorf Astoria Starlight Roof.

S. S. United States docking at Pier 86, Hudson River, July 15, 1952. U. S. Army photograph, Grover Whalen Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Pier 86, United States Line, Hudson River, June 23, 1952. Department of Marine and Aviation photograph collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

Although less voluminous, the subject file for the reception in Mayor Impellitteri’s records also contains informative items. Among them are a transcript of the Mayor’s remarks at the City Hall reception. Printed in a giant font, suitable to be read from a lectern, Impellitteri’s speech praised Commodore Harry Manning, Captain of the ship: “That the United States [ship] deserves all the praise and admiration she has received—both here and abroad—goes without saying. But I submit that there is a human factor within the greatness of the ship which is equally deserving of tribute. A ship, after all, no matter how perfect in mechanical detail is nothing without her caption and crew. It is in recognition of that fact that we gather here today to honor Commodore Harry Manning, Captain of the S.S. United States, and through him, the 1,000-man team which make up his crew.”


The Habitual Hero

Time magazine cover, June 23, 1952. Grover Whalen Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Mayor Impellitteri continued on to say that this was not Captain Manning’s first time in a ticker-tape parade. Grover Whalen’s very capable assistant Gertrude Lyons prepared a memo with biographical information about Manning for the Mayor’s speech-writers. Her memo detailed an incident in 1929 when Manning, then the first officer on the ship “America,” came upon an Italian freighter sinking in the Atlantic. Manning volunteered to take a lifeboat with seven men across a quarter-mile of raging sea to rescue the half-frozen Italian crewmen. Manning’s action saved 32 men, and upon his return to New York, the City gave him a hero’s welcome with a ticker-tape parade. As Ms. Lyons wrote, “This is but one instance which led to Commodore Manning being referred to as the ‘habitual hero’.”

Commodore Harry Manning and Chief Engineer William Kaiser, S. S. United States, ticker-tape parade, Broadway, July 18, 1952. Mayor’s Reception Committee Photograph, Grover Whalen Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Menu, luncheon in honor of the Master, Officers and Crew of the S. S. United States, Waldorf Astoria Hotel, July 18, 1952. Grover Whalen Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Mayor included the rescue story in his speech, but omitted another significant event detailed in Lyons’ memo. She explained how in 1937 Manning had been on leave from his ship to serve as navigator for Amelia Earhart on her proposed around the world flight. “In Honolulu, the plane skidded on a take-off and cracked up. No one was hurt, but Manning had to return to his ship before the plane could be repaired and the flight resumed without him. This was the flight on which Amelia Earhart lost her life.”

The Reception Committee folders also include copies of two short documents with “Suggested Remarks for Commodore Manning at City Hall” scrawled on the top. “Just a few thoughts for consideration,” Whalen wrote. No detail too small!

Mayor Vincent Impellitteri presents Proclamation to Commander Harry Manning, Captain, S. S. United States, City Hall, July 18, 1952, Mayor’s Reception Committee Photograph, Grover Whalen Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.


Sleek as a Shark

Reading Manning’s biography, it is perhaps not surprising that Time magazine featured him on the cover of their June 23, 1952, issue; a copy is in the Whalen collection. In ten lavishly illustrated pages the news magazine told the full story of America’s new “Luxury Liner.” As described in the article, “The superliner is the dreamboat of William Francis Gibbs, 65, crack naval architect and famed designer of World War II’s Liberty ships. Newport News Shipbuilding & Drydock Co. made it come true.”

The story explained how Congress appropriated $42 million of the total $79 million cost of the ship not only to enhance the country’s prestige, but also to bolster its military readiness. During wartime, the ship’s 241,000-horse-power steam engines could move 14,000 troops, with equipment, halfway around the world, nonstop, without refueling. “For all her size, the hull is sleek as a shark to help her outrun submarines.”

Brochure cover, S.S. United States, July 1952, Grover Whalen Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Brochure interior, S.S. United States, July 1952, Grover Whalen Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Brochure interior, S.S. United States, July 1952, Grover Whalen Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

During peacetime, the ship could transport 2,000 passengers and 1,000 crew in air-conditioned comfort, the first ocean liner with that amenity. Federal requirements necessary for the potential naval use of the vessel created challenges for interior designers Dorothy Marckwald and Anne Urquart. Using 100% fireproof materials, their interiors were hailed as a masterpiece of what is now called “mid-century modern.”

The S.S. United States went on to cross the Atlantic 800 times, but the 1952 Time story correctly foresaw the downward trajectory of transatlantic travel by ocean liner. “All liners are waging a losing battle against the airlines. Five years ago, only 30% of transatlantic travel was by air. This year it will reach about 40%.”

S.S. United States, New York Harbor, July 15, 1952. The liner’s remarkable speed during the transatlantic journey peeled the paint from its hull. Mayor’s Reception Committee Photograph, Grover Whalen Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

In 1969, the United States Lines took their flagship vessel out of service and moored it in Norfolk, Virginia. It later berthed at Philadelphia until its final voyage that began last week. The  S.S. United States Conservancy, a non-profit, bought the vessel in 2011. The Conservancy is headed by Susan Gibbs, granddaughter of the ship’s designer William Francis Gibbs. Having failed to find a permanent home for the liner, the Conservancy agreed to the planned sinking of the ship to serve as a coral reef. The Conservancy is now planning a land-based S.S. United States museum.

It is unlikely that any of the thousands of spectators at the parade for Commodore Manning and the crew of the S.S. United States in 1952 gave much thought to the fate of the great liner when it reached the end of its useful life. But if they had, perhaps they would like the idea of its new role as habitat for sea creatures.

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