Kris
November 10th, 2002, 06:49 AM
November 10, 2002
Afoot in Stepstreet Land
By SETH KUGEL
http://graphics7.nytimes.com/images/2002/11/10/nyregion/enlargestep[.jpg
Whether pristine, or eyesore, like the one at Clifford Place, near the Grand Concourse, these passageways hold a certain allure.
YOU could drive by a dozen times and never know it was there. Like a concrete machete cutting through the urban jungle, the stepstreet slashes a shrouded, tree-lined passageway between the hodgepodge of old buildings that separate bustling Broadway and tranquil Park Terrace East at West 215th Street. Inaccessible to cars, buses, bikes and even wheelchairs, it serves only pedestrians with sturdy legs.
Except during rush hour, rarely are more than one or two people on the steps at any single time. Still, the ascent is not necessarily lonely: with dozens of windows facing out from the adjacent apartments, you never know if you are really alone with your winded thoughts. But the steps are not just for commuting and communing with one's soul. They are also for finding cats, playing curb ball, sometimes even for dying.
New York City has 94 stepstreets, most of them in neighborhoods in the west Bronx and upper Manhattan whose names are no coincidence: Kingsbridge Heights, University Heights, Morris Heights, Washington Heights.
These hidden passageways, built largely in the early 20th century as the expanding New York City grid system ran into steep hills and declines, substituting steps for streets didn't seem such a big deal. There were many more pedestrians, and the automobile was still a newfangled invention.
The steps are still there, ranging in length from just six stairs to the 171-step monster on West 170th Street in Highbridge, the equivalent of an 11th-floor walk-up.
New York is not the only city with stepstreets, though it may be the only place that uses the term. Hilly San Francisco has about 20 of them, according to José Luis Moscovich, executive director of the local Transportation Authority, and Pittsburgh may have the most: 762 sets of what the city calls "city stairs," according to Craig Kwiecinski, a mayoral spokesman.
In New York, where stepstreets show up on some maps as official streets, they cause endless problems for unaware motorists. But for pedestrians, they provide shortcuts to subway stations, bus stops and shopping strips. Some people even use them for an old-fashioned pre-Stairmaster workout.
Or at the very least, to wax nostalgic about such activity. Miguel Pimentel, 31, a garment worker from nearby Inwood, who was trudging up the steps at 215th Street one recent Sunday with his son and nephew, used to work out on the stepstreet years ago, using bottle caps to measure his stamina. He would line up 10 caps at the bottom of the stairs, and run them up one at a time. Then, he would do the same thing in reverse. Simply recalling the time he raced up and down the stepstreet 50 times in a single day made him consider a return engagement. "I want to see if I could get my old record again," he said.
A few minutes later, a casually dressed, gray-haired Larry Rosen climbed up the stepstreet, accompanied by his partner, Claire McCurdy. Mr. Rosen, a systems analyst at Columbia University, once lost a galosh in the deep snow of the stepstreet and found it two weeks later; the steps also mark the spot where he found two stray cats, including the fearless Arnold, a tabby who became an 11-year companion.
"The steps have interesting connotations," he said. "They are a part of your life." And even the end of life, sometimes. Back in the 1980's, one of his neighbors, a city worker in his 40's, suffered a heart attack on the stepstreet and died soon after.
While some stepstreets are picturesque and well maintained, thanks to Department of Sanitation crews, many others, especially those in poorer neighborhoods, are in bad shape. Broken steps, railings and streetlights attract dumping, rodents and, sometimes, crime. Still, even stepstreets carpeted in shattered glass and used condoms are used frequently.
"They can be beautiful, but a lot of them are left in disrepair," said Adolfo Carrión Jr., the Bronx borough president who used to serve as district manager of Community Board 5 in the Bronx, the heart of stepstreet land. "In my mind, the city has never had a calculated approach to managing and maintaining these pieces of urban architecture."
The Department of Transportation has rebuilt 16 of the most damaged stepstreets since 1996, and other repair jobs are in the works. But there is no regular cleaning schedule, said Kathy Dawkins, a Department of Sanitation spokeswoman. The results show.
THE once-picturesque stepstreet along Clifford Place between Walton Avenue and the Grand Concourse in Morris Heights is a good example. The steps, visible from the elevated No. 4 train, are cracked and littered with refuse, and glass collects on the sloping terraces that line the passageway.
"We've got rats as big as my cats down there," said C. J. Jenkins, a student at nearby Monroe College who lives next door to the stepstreet. "If I come eat breakfast, they smell it. Those rats'll take you out."
Still, in an age of sanitized, politically correct playgrounds, even decrepit stepstreets like the one at Clifford Place hold a certain allure: the promise of outlaw fun. Tag is popular in the summer, and sliding down on makeshift cardboard sleds is a favorite activity in the winter. The other day, Gary Brown, 12, and Hakeem Rose, 13, proudly pulled up their pant legs to reveal shins and knees nicked with scars. "All these cuts are from the slopes," Hakeem said.
"The more we get hurt, the better it gets," Gary added.
The stepstreet at 215th Street, pristine by comparison, is also a makeshift playground. Children can often be found at the top playing curb ball, a variation on the ancient New York tradition of stoopball. Players throw a tennis ball against the curb on one side and then try to make their way around a short base path at the top of the stairs. The children change over the years; the rules are passed on.
On a recent afternoon, a game went into extra innings, interrupted regularly by passing, panting commuters. A local Little League coach stopped by and inquired about the complicated regulations. Players borrowed a visitor's cellphone to tell their parents they'd be late for dinner.
Finally, in the bottom of the 13th, 13-year-old Conor Sullivan hit a game-winning home run.
Copyright The New York Times Company
Afoot in Stepstreet Land
By SETH KUGEL
http://graphics7.nytimes.com/images/2002/11/10/nyregion/enlargestep[.jpg
Whether pristine, or eyesore, like the one at Clifford Place, near the Grand Concourse, these passageways hold a certain allure.
YOU could drive by a dozen times and never know it was there. Like a concrete machete cutting through the urban jungle, the stepstreet slashes a shrouded, tree-lined passageway between the hodgepodge of old buildings that separate bustling Broadway and tranquil Park Terrace East at West 215th Street. Inaccessible to cars, buses, bikes and even wheelchairs, it serves only pedestrians with sturdy legs.
Except during rush hour, rarely are more than one or two people on the steps at any single time. Still, the ascent is not necessarily lonely: with dozens of windows facing out from the adjacent apartments, you never know if you are really alone with your winded thoughts. But the steps are not just for commuting and communing with one's soul. They are also for finding cats, playing curb ball, sometimes even for dying.
New York City has 94 stepstreets, most of them in neighborhoods in the west Bronx and upper Manhattan whose names are no coincidence: Kingsbridge Heights, University Heights, Morris Heights, Washington Heights.
These hidden passageways, built largely in the early 20th century as the expanding New York City grid system ran into steep hills and declines, substituting steps for streets didn't seem such a big deal. There were many more pedestrians, and the automobile was still a newfangled invention.
The steps are still there, ranging in length from just six stairs to the 171-step monster on West 170th Street in Highbridge, the equivalent of an 11th-floor walk-up.
New York is not the only city with stepstreets, though it may be the only place that uses the term. Hilly San Francisco has about 20 of them, according to José Luis Moscovich, executive director of the local Transportation Authority, and Pittsburgh may have the most: 762 sets of what the city calls "city stairs," according to Craig Kwiecinski, a mayoral spokesman.
In New York, where stepstreets show up on some maps as official streets, they cause endless problems for unaware motorists. But for pedestrians, they provide shortcuts to subway stations, bus stops and shopping strips. Some people even use them for an old-fashioned pre-Stairmaster workout.
Or at the very least, to wax nostalgic about such activity. Miguel Pimentel, 31, a garment worker from nearby Inwood, who was trudging up the steps at 215th Street one recent Sunday with his son and nephew, used to work out on the stepstreet years ago, using bottle caps to measure his stamina. He would line up 10 caps at the bottom of the stairs, and run them up one at a time. Then, he would do the same thing in reverse. Simply recalling the time he raced up and down the stepstreet 50 times in a single day made him consider a return engagement. "I want to see if I could get my old record again," he said.
A few minutes later, a casually dressed, gray-haired Larry Rosen climbed up the stepstreet, accompanied by his partner, Claire McCurdy. Mr. Rosen, a systems analyst at Columbia University, once lost a galosh in the deep snow of the stepstreet and found it two weeks later; the steps also mark the spot where he found two stray cats, including the fearless Arnold, a tabby who became an 11-year companion.
"The steps have interesting connotations," he said. "They are a part of your life." And even the end of life, sometimes. Back in the 1980's, one of his neighbors, a city worker in his 40's, suffered a heart attack on the stepstreet and died soon after.
While some stepstreets are picturesque and well maintained, thanks to Department of Sanitation crews, many others, especially those in poorer neighborhoods, are in bad shape. Broken steps, railings and streetlights attract dumping, rodents and, sometimes, crime. Still, even stepstreets carpeted in shattered glass and used condoms are used frequently.
"They can be beautiful, but a lot of them are left in disrepair," said Adolfo Carrión Jr., the Bronx borough president who used to serve as district manager of Community Board 5 in the Bronx, the heart of stepstreet land. "In my mind, the city has never had a calculated approach to managing and maintaining these pieces of urban architecture."
The Department of Transportation has rebuilt 16 of the most damaged stepstreets since 1996, and other repair jobs are in the works. But there is no regular cleaning schedule, said Kathy Dawkins, a Department of Sanitation spokeswoman. The results show.
THE once-picturesque stepstreet along Clifford Place between Walton Avenue and the Grand Concourse in Morris Heights is a good example. The steps, visible from the elevated No. 4 train, are cracked and littered with refuse, and glass collects on the sloping terraces that line the passageway.
"We've got rats as big as my cats down there," said C. J. Jenkins, a student at nearby Monroe College who lives next door to the stepstreet. "If I come eat breakfast, they smell it. Those rats'll take you out."
Still, in an age of sanitized, politically correct playgrounds, even decrepit stepstreets like the one at Clifford Place hold a certain allure: the promise of outlaw fun. Tag is popular in the summer, and sliding down on makeshift cardboard sleds is a favorite activity in the winter. The other day, Gary Brown, 12, and Hakeem Rose, 13, proudly pulled up their pant legs to reveal shins and knees nicked with scars. "All these cuts are from the slopes," Hakeem said.
"The more we get hurt, the better it gets," Gary added.
The stepstreet at 215th Street, pristine by comparison, is also a makeshift playground. Children can often be found at the top playing curb ball, a variation on the ancient New York tradition of stoopball. Players throw a tennis ball against the curb on one side and then try to make their way around a short base path at the top of the stairs. The children change over the years; the rules are passed on.
On a recent afternoon, a game went into extra innings, interrupted regularly by passing, panting commuters. A local Little League coach stopped by and inquired about the complicated regulations. Players borrowed a visitor's cellphone to tell their parents they'd be late for dinner.
Finally, in the bottom of the 13th, 13-year-old Conor Sullivan hit a game-winning home run.
Copyright The New York Times Company