Greater Astoria Historial Society 35-20 Broadway, 4th Floor | L.I.C., NY 11106 718.278.0700 | www.astorialic.org Gallery Hours: Mondays & Wednesdays 2-5 PM Saturdays 12-5 PM Exhibits ~ Lectures ~ Documentaries ~ Books Walking Tours ~ Historical Research Unique & Creative Content For more information visit us on the web at www.astorialic.org This image adapted from an invitation to the Long Island City Athletics 33rd Annual Masque Ball, 1909. 32 MARCH 2016 i LIC COURIER i www.qns.com ■LEGENDS I, EMILY M AUD ELLIS We continue the account of Emily Maud Ellis whose family lived in Astoria, New York for a few years between 1885 and 1892. While her father, an architect, commuted by the Astoria Ferry each day to work at the architectural firm of McKim Mead, and White, where he designing elements for the original Madison Square Garden she wandered the community experiencing those things a child does and recording thoughts a child places into a memory of a lifetime. I remember once, at school, we were asked to bring in flowers and we all marched from the school with our teacher. We went up the front steps of a house nearby, in through the front door, and into a room. There was a little coffin with a little girl laying in it wearing a pink dress – with a bandage around her throat. I later asked my Mother about it, and she said the little girl had been murdered: it was a warning for us. Soon after, tragedy visited our family when my brother, Walter, was born. He was the son that my Mother and Father wanted. Sadly, the doctor gave him no hope and he only lived three months. When there is a death in the house, the undertaker puts a rosette, all plaited ribbon about the size of a dinner plate, on the door. They were white for children and black for adults. When the undertaker later calls to collect the trestles (upon which were placed the coffin) he also takes the rosette off the door. Not so far away from our house was the church (and Sunday School) we went to, the Holy Church of the Redeemer. Note: it is still on Crescent Street. On Easter Sundays we were given a little basket with eggs I two colors. Later in the year, we were given a basket full of strawberries during strawberry season. I could use my Mother’s treadle sewing machine at an early age, when I was only five or six, for she had put a box on it so that my feet could reach the treadle. Father once asked some neighbors to come in to have a drink. When he opened up a bottle of cherry brandy that noise sounded good! But then, he accidentally dropped the bottle and it broke in pieces! Mother was going to clean up the broken glass but Father said, “Leave it, I will clean it up!” Well, we went into the house for a little while. Later Mother looked out to behold a most odd sight. The poor chickens were walking and falling down. They had been drinking the brandy and were drunk. I thought it was all quite funny. It was a nice house which only had a little garden. I set some sunflower seeds and they soon were in bloom. Then one day Mrs. Riley’s cows got in. I looked out of the window and saw a cow eating my sunflowers, I ran down the steps and picked up a piece of wood and bashed him like mad. I don’t remember seeing water taps in the house - my Father or my Mother used to go over the other side of the road, where there was a spring - it was lovely water. My Father used to carry three or four pails full of water back each night but whether that was our drinking water I don’t know. We next moved to a 218 Jamaica Avenue. It was a wooden house built on four posts and we could play under it. It was a lovely avenue with trees and near the water. The house (pictured) was on 31st Avenue between Crescent and 23rd Streets; was torn down in 2014 I wonder if my mother was homesick. She was always talking about going to England and she used to say to me, “One day you may see Queen Victoria.” So in August, 1892, after the short break up for holiday we started to pack up. Soon we were back in England after our eight year sojourn in Astoria – and yes, I did see the Queen one day when she drove through Hyde Park! In 1971, as an 87 year old grandmother, Emily wrote this account for her grandson Dudley Rolph. She died aged 90 in 1974. It is our good fortune that the family reached out to the Greater Astoria Historical Society to share this fascinating slice of our community from the eyes of a child. We thank them. If you know anyone that has memories from times past, please encourage them to write it down – and to share the story with us.
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