So after getting to bed around 2 or 2.30, we woke up a little bit later than the day before, made our daily stop at Dunkin' Donuts, and hopped on the subway all the way down into Brooklyn. It was here in Brooklyn that I wanted to make a stop that was thwarted last time I was in NY. As a lifetime Dodger fan and general baseball history fan, I have always been terribly intrigued with the the pre-Los Angeles days when the Dodgers called Brooklyn home. It's a part of my personal baseball "lineage" that I will never fully understand, having never lived in Brooklyn and of course living 50 years past when they were even there to begin with. But like my Irish ancestry, there's something just mesmerizing about looking into your past and seeing where you, or in this case, your favorite baseball team, came from.
Last year in NY we had a rental car, and on our way out of town I drove across the Brooklyn Bridge to visit the site of the Dodgers' former home near Prospect Park in Brooklyn: the now absent Ebbets Field. But due to a crime scene (the Ebbets plot of land is now home to the Jackie Robinson Apartments, which is really the Jackie Robinson Projects), we couldn't drive down the street and I had to peer the old location from the car window. So this year, travelling via subway and foot, I was excited to finally make it there on the hallowed grounds.
Upon reaching the site, it was a bittersweet experience for me. It was hard now in this impovershed area to try to picture the grand front rotunda, the old fashioned lettering, and the bustle of the Brooklyn faithful (coined as "Trolley Dodgers," as they would have to engage in a real life game of "Frogger" to get to the game, hence the team was actually named after the fans). But this is all that I have, and I tried to enjoy this now forgotten chapter of not just Dodger history, but baseball history.
Back on the train to Manhattan, we got off at Canal St. and travelled a little south to Sutton Place, a 19th century cobble stoned street with one of the greatest buildings in cinema history: the Ghostbuster's Firehouse. I was here 2 years ago, and since then the Hook and Ladder #8 have adopted the Ghostbuster's logo into their own logo, which is a pretty awesome thing and a neat nod to the relaxed, friendly culture of NYC (that's right, I said friendly and relaxed. I think New Yorkers are some of the most helpful people I've met. Twenty times nicer than any Los Angeleno, ten times nicer than San Diegans, and five times nicer than Bostonians). If you click on the picture and look inside the doorway, you can see that they have the original Ghostbusters lighted sign hanging inside.From there we hopped the subway to the Financial District, where we walked through the night before, but wanted to make a day pass to see a few locations. First, we stopped in Trinity Church, featured in the awful movie "National Treasure" with the awful actor Nicholas Cage. Trinity is amazing, an 18th century building that looks straight down the narrow corridor of Wall St. It also houses the gravesite of Alexander Hamilton, of $10 bill fame. Hamilton was our nations first national treasurer (maybe that's why they chose this site for "National Treasure?"), and was a major player in the Revolutionary War, leading the campaign that would lead to the surrender of the British General Cornwallis, effectively ending the war. In 1804 he accepted an invite to a duel with political rival Aaron Burr, who was the Vice President of the United States under President John Adams. And when I say duel, I mean guns, "ready, aim, fire" kind of a duel. Sometimes I think I'd like to see this as part of our presidential debates. These were real men. Sadly (well, either way is sad, both men were American patriots), Hamilton lost the duel, incidentally on the same spot his son lost a duel 3 years previous.
From Trinity we make the 2 block walk to the former Word Trade Center. The best viewing is on the southern side, as you walk past Engine #10, the firestation that was obviously the first responders and lost the most men and women in the attacks. An awesome bronze sculputre on its west wall depicts the heroes of 9/11.An ominous and surreal experience, the crowd is simply silent. Even for me, my 5th time viewing the site, it just still doesn't seem real.
From the WTC, we hop on the subway, grab our things at Matt and Casey's loft, snap a few pictures from their "backyard" on the garden roof, which is super sweet, and take off towards the Battery, which is the southern tip of Manhattan where we'll be getting on the Staten Island Ferry.
The Ferry is sweet, because it's free. It takes you past Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, and after 20 minutes you're at Staten Island. We're going to Staten Island because this is where our car rental is to get us to Boston. Car rentals on Manhattan or at airports are typically double than that in the other four burroughs. After a little bus ride, we got dropped off at our rental place (complete with a flying Irish flag), got the car (a generous free upgrade with leather and XM radio and a near full tank of gas for free), and made our way through Jersey, past a few $5+ toll bridges, and found some cheap parking for the free Yankee game. We got our four tickets for free from the company our keyboard player, Matt Piro, works for, a little outfit known as 24 Hour Fitness, so we met up with Matt and Casey (a different Matt, obviously) for the game, something I was glad we could do just to say a little thanks for letting us crash their pad (they're newlyweds, so it takes quite a bit of generosity to give up two nights of privacy in a loft). The game was great, it left only 12 remaining games at Yankee Stadium, and it was my one and only night game there, which was cool. We left a tad early, since we had a 4 hour drive to Boston, and wanted to make sure we weren't driving around too late and potentially getting lost in the bad part of the Bronx.
After a seeminly shorter than four hours trip Boston, we arrived just a tad north in Salem, affectionately known as Witch City. Here we stayed with two real life saints, Phil and Bev Wyman, pastors of a smallish but passionate and inspiring church called the Gathering in one of the toughest towns to be a Christian. Again, true saints, in word, deed, and heart. It's always a privilage to stay with them. More about them on Day Four.
Total cost, per person, for food (including expensive Stadium food and beers) and subway for Day THREE: $29.
So that concludes Day Three. Tomorrow, on Day Four, we'll explore Boston, entailing the original Cheers, the Boston Common, the graves of John Hancock, Paul Revere, Peter Faneul, Sam Adams, and Ben Franklin's parents, the Old North Church, the USS Consitution, and Fenway Park
