legends 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 JUNE 2013 I LIC COURIER I www.queenscourier.com THE LAST FERRY The Long Island Rail Road had made an announcement. On March 5, 1925, the Hunters Point Ferry would pass into history. Until the very end, the city had vowed to fight to keep the service, but everyone knew that the Long Island City transportation institution, antedating the Civil War, would go out of existence. The announcement read that last boats were scheduled to leave their terminals at precisely 6:48 p.m. The 56-year-old “Southampton” departed from Queens under Captain Thomas Hinley of Whitestone, while the “Pennsylvania” simultaneously left 34th Street with Captain Will Schow of Elmhurst at the wheel. But only one boat, the Southampton was in service on that final day. Back and forth she plied all afternoon, each trip with but a handful of passengers. Borden Avenue, which only a few years before was clogged with city traffic, was alone and silent. The neighborhood has a sorry, deserted feeling since so many had moved away. Miller’s Hotel? The building that had once been the busy hotel was now a warehouse. A small ornate structure with the words “Queens County Bank” is now part of a coal yard. Barred are the wide entrances to the Ferry House. Admission is at a small door. The passenger who pays the nickel fare slips into the Waiting Room. A tiger cat lay curled asleep in a passageway where thousands of hurrying feet had trod in years gone by. A newsstand, candy counter and possibly a soda fountain are boarded up, perhaps for years. There are ghostly spirits in the center of the room. It is rumored that the terminal and docks are to be torn down the very next day. That last trip carries no curiosity passengers, but mostly relatives and friends of employees. A red fire glows from every pole in her stern. In maritime tradition, it is a signal of sorrow. The boat begins her last trip to Manhattan. It arrives without incident. A couple of passengers depart into the darkness. Somewhere in the dusk and the distance an unseen bell was tolling a knell. LEGENDS OF LIC BY GREATER ASTORIA HISTORICAL SOCIETY LEGENDS OF LIC A red fire glows, a distant bell tolls, and the 34th Street Ferry puts off for the final time -- her last seven minute trip to Queens. As the boat churns out of her Manhattan slip, a small group of men grown gray in her service watch the waves and the light studded buildings recede. One doffs his hat and sadly says, “good-bye, goodbye.” Longest serving, Thomas Milling of 12th Street, Long Island City was an engineer for 45 years. Ole Olson, a night watchman of four decades. The ferry is an institution rich in memories, carrying a multitude on each load. The racetrack crowd, beach and picnic crowds, more staid community throngs, sober soldiers in khaki. On that last trip it carried only 23 passengers, two horse drawn wagons and one motor truck. She docks. An iron gate rattles open. Her whistle screeches a swan song. The two horses, whose ears cock forward at the surprise of the prolonged shrill of whistles, now steel themselves to their task and drag their carts to the streets. The motor vehicle chugs a moment then silently ascends the incline. The little group of passengers heads for the two red trolleys that are standing empty at the terminal. The ferry was now a part of history.
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