The 5 Boro Bike Ride Walk

It was an experience. Having done it once, I can honestly say that once is enough if conditions are as they were yesterday. Below is a recap as experienced by our family. Feel free to share your experiences and impressions. We are very curious as to why the ride went the way it did.

We prepared: 4 bottles filled with fruit flavored Accelerade, 3 with water,
a loaf of banana bread, slices individually wrapped. Granola bars and other munchables were packed.

Sunblock was liberally applied and then covered with sweats.

Other bloggers were delayed on the"5 Boro" express so a Cycling Knitter meet-up did not happen. (This was our fault, we were anxious to get started, sorry guys!) Little Squid trying to keep warm. 7:45 a.m.Perky and ready to go after a brief 3 mile ride from the start to the 50s.

A very brief stop at the first rest area -- my school. Papa and Squidette had a chance to use the facilities, Little Squid and I decided to pass and just grabbed some bananas.The view as we walked up the ramp to the Queensborough Bridge. (59th Street Bridge) The walking was due to the bottleneck, not due to a lack of ability on our part.A view of the Auto Auction as we walked by.

Notice the use of the word "walk." We did a lot of it. Far more then we expected to. Bottlenecks occurred at the entrance to Central Park (apparently normal), near 72nd Street inside Central Park, near the 110th Street exit from Central Park, at the entrance ramp to the Queensboro Bridge, at various points in Queens and Brooklyn, and at the "festival" on Staten Island where it took us 1.5 hours to make our way from the Bridge exit to the park exit. We will not discuss the ride to the Ferry terminal -- again that one was expected.

We expected the crowds and walking at the start. Were not surprised by the Central Park entrance bottleneck and the Ferry wait. (Though the first Central Park bottleneck was exacerbated by parade floats crossing from West to East.) We were surprised by the other bottlenecks, particularly the ones in Central Park. We were surprised to find the second rest stop already closed and being bypassed when we finally came off of the 59th Street Bridge. We rode, when allowed to, at a fairly steady pace of about 10 miles per hour so we really didn't understand why the rest stops were closing except that the walking portions were unanticipated and slowed things down considerably. Many of those around us were similarly surprised. People passed us early on and we passed people later on. (Never underestimate the energy of a fourth-grader.)

We arrived at Battery Park by 7:05 a.m. and were in the group that started from Vesey Street at 8:45. A colleague was a block or two ahead and started rolling at 8:20. He only encountered the Central Park starting bottleneck and the Central Park ending bottleneck in addition to the horrendous wait to get out of the park in Staten Island. It seems that he was either on one of the ferries that left with ours or maybe the ferry group ahead of us. His 25 minute earlier start made the difference between getting to the second rest stop or being shunted to the 3rd as we were. That was a bit scary since we wound up riding in pairs intending to reunite at each rest stop. When I rolled off the bridge and found the shortcut in effect I got worried that we'd lost Papa Squid and Squidette. Fortunately, or not, they had also been shunted aside so they were waiting for us.

We did not spend a lot of time at rest stops. As a matter of fact, we spent very little time at any of them. All Squid used the facilities at the 3rd rest stop and we all bypassed every other rest stop including attempting to bypass the festival. Every time we got to a rest stop they started yelling that they were closing it in 10 minutes. Even the music at the festival stopped at 4:00, an hour before the festival was scheduled to end. Since people were not able to leave it didn't seem to be a cue to get people to leave. Given that we got to the ride start at a more than appropriate hour, things did not go as we expected.

Do we regret the ride? No. The kids are indeed jazzed that they did the ride despite the long day. They loved riding over the bridges though the BQE got boring for Little Squid after a few miles. Personally, I found the first FDR tunnel terrifying. The road was pitted and I briefly lost Little Squid in the dark.

Will we do it again? Nope. Next year, the kids can go to Hebrew School or even the Salute to Israel Parade (which counts as Hebrew School for the day). We'll ride on Saturday and leave the streets to others on Sunday.

Anyone want to join us for the Century? We'll be doing the 55 mile section (maybe the 75). The streets aren't closed but they aren't crowded either. Last year we were home by 1:00 after doing the 35 mile portion with nice, long, rest stops where we actually sat down and had a solid snack before hitting the road again. This year, with larger and stronger Squidlings, we expect to be able to do a longer portion in the same amount of time.

More photos can be found here and here. And, if you fast forward through this to 1:46 you can see Mama Squid in all of her bundled up glory. (Front and center with a yellow fanny pack on a blue Bike Friday.) Little Squid's flag and back tire is off to the left.

The Long Ride

5 Boros. 12 hours. 50 miles. 42,000 people.
Chilled. Tired. Hungry. 'Nuf said, more tomorrow.

Super Grover!

Mike bought me a present!(Click to make bigger if you want to see my new bandage and swollen face. Keep this size to preserve your illusions.)

Super Grover!

(5-Boro Knitters, look for Grover on my sleeve caps on Sunday.)

And the original. Purchased for me in 1987 by my sweet husband-to-be. When he helped me bring my stuff to college that August, he also helped me to tie a red scarf around Grover's neck and rigged him so that he "flew" across my dorm room on fishing line. Unfortunately I do not think that any pictures exist of that time. One of these days I might grant you a peek of my permed hair during those halcyon days. Ah the summers of '86 and '87. What stories they hold ...

The Art Helen Woodhull in the Lives of the Squid Family

Back when my mother-in-law and father-in-law were starting out, my father-in-law's first job hooked him up with some wonderful men and their wives, some of who are still in our lives today.

One of the couples included Helen Woodhull, a gifted artist whose medium, when I met her, was gold. Eighteen carat gold. Lovely, unusual pieces came from her hands and I am honored to wear two of them daily.

Mom (my mother-in-law for the purposes of the rest of this story) kept up the relationship with Helen and the others after my father-in-law died. Before we got engaged, Mike introduced me to Helen and I discovered what a wonderful person she was. Kind to people, animals, even to dust. (O.k., maybe not to dust.) Helen "adopted" strays -- both feline and human. After she passed away, we attended a memorial where we met some of her other strays. People who had stumbled across her and become an integral part of her life. Some, like us, periodically helped out with the business. Mike set up her first inventory system and over the years we both worked, sporadically, on her website. He did the coding, I did some critiquing and copy editing. All the work was done out of friendship and never for money. Instead, when we wanted to purchase a piece, either for me or for Mom, Helen gave us the "family" rate. The relationship continued and moved on to the next generation with Helen practically adopting my children as her own grandniece and nephew.

A couple of times a year we would go over to her place or she would come up to ours and we would share tea, hot chocolate and stories. Helen would show us her treasures -- antiques and beautiful things that she had acquired over the years -- and we would show our beautiful children and share our adventures. When Helen passed away, a mere six months before Mom did, we were some of the first to know. Mike had to get in to the website to put up the statement that you now see on the front page. Thinking about it now, more than two years after the fact, still brings tears to my eyes.

All of my "Helen" pieces have a story and all of the stories bring a tear to the eye. My first two pieces, however, are totally and completely woven into my life as a married woman.

On my right hand is my first Helen piece, my engagement ring for which Mike paid the "family rate." The second piece, a wedding gift from Helen, is my wedding band which is a bit unusual for all that it looks, at first glance, like a plain gold band. It has a narrow height that when paired with my engagement ring, looks just right. I do not usually wear the two together since I twice busted the solder point in the engagement ring. My boss, who has an eye for unusual jewelery, recently noticed my band and commented on it -- she is the only one to ever do so, that's how subtle it is. Mike also wears a Helen wedding band and it too, was her gift to him.

The few other pieces that I call my own were gifted to me by Mike or Helen at varying times over the years. Then there are the pieces that belonged to Mom. Some of them were given to her by her children and others were purchased by her, for herself. One or two may have been gifted by my father-in-law but my husband does not remember how they came in to her hands.

Well before her death, mom stated, unequivocally, that all of her jewelry was to go to my sister-in-law. Mom was a traditionalist that way. At some point, however, we were able to persuade her that my sister-in-law did not like Helen's pieces and they should therefore go to me and my brother-in-law's wife. With my sister-in-law's blessing, that is what happened, except that I wound up with all of the Helen pieces as my brother-in-law's wife insisted on it. Now I hold them dear and in keeping for Squidette and whomever Little Squid should eventually hook up with.

In the meantime, Mom's pieces form the basis of my Dragon Lady ensemble. When I know that I have to be Strong, I switch my engagement ring to my left hand, put on Mom's "Daisy" ring and Stag earrings, add my own Lion and Lamb necklace (to remind me to be kind) and usually my own bracelet. (Mom's bracelet is a little dressy to be Dragon-esque.) I think of these pieces as my armor against the idiots of the world who cow down to the well assembled. I think Helen would be amused that I use the pieces, some based on ancient armor, to gird my loins against those that might hurt those I love.

Bookcases and Chocolate

I did promise a picture of the infamous bookcase if I could find my camera. Well, I found it. After all these years I have learned to think like Maria. We had the bookcase on the wall to the right turned 90 degrees.
On top of the bookcase is an assortment of books from my mother-in-law as well as a few other items from my own collection. Yes, that is a fire extinguisher and a navajo spindle. The top shelf contains most of my knitting magazines, the second shelf an eclectic selection of books from our own library, my father's collection and of course, my mother-in-law. We didn't take all of her books but did take a good number of well bound classics. One of these days I will photograph all of the bookcases in this place. Our library is thinner then it was last year but still rather robust and growing all the time. Whenever I fuss about my yarn stash growing out of control, I just think of our book stash. *grin*

Below, a gift from my boss.
I have to remember to bring some in to work tomorrow for when I am in charge. The calories will come in handy. Too bad I really can't gobble the stuff the way I used to. One or two pieces tends to do me just fine.

***

I put in a half-day today after going to Little Squid's publishing party. He really channels my dad in his writing. It is so funny to see!

Happily, I made it up the 4 double-height flights to Little Squid's classroom and was only as winded as I usually am. Phew! I may still be a bit shaky but at least everything else is working. That bodes well for Sunday. The teachers and other moms were hesitant to ask about my face. And his Principal, she just kind of gasped and said "I won't ask," at which point I promptly told her. I swear people just think the worst. One would think ... hmm ... Upper East Side mother, swollen face ... yeah, face lift! I guess having only one side swollen and the tape over my eye doesn't translate to that. Lid lift anyone? One of my secretaries told me to go home. Said I looked far too pale. Gee, I guess my usual make up really does make a difference. *grin*

Tomorrow I have to be "in charge" which usually translates into suit, heels, full makeup and dragon lady jewelry. I'm trying to figure out which suit will work with flats and will totally ditch the make up except for lipstick. If people want to stare at something, they can stare at my extra red lips. The dragon lady jewelry is a given. Helen Woodhull to the max!

In my next post I will explain how a humble New York City teacher came to possess several pieces of Helen's beautiful jewelry.

Loafing and a Story

I'm still half-sleeping, half-surfing, half-listening to NPR while I half-sleep. The best sleep I've gotten over the last few days was while I was unconscious. I was having the best dream before they woke me up. Now if I could only remember it. I really hope I have enough energy to do what I have to tomorrow. The four flights of double height stairs leading to Little Squid's class room seem rather daunting right now.

My cleaning lady was a bit shocked to see me when she walked in but was really sweet and after about an hour, came out and told me that my bedroom was totally done and I should go in there to rest. I really love her! (I say this all the time, not just when recovering from surgery.) She joined our family a few years before Squidette did and stayed with us through three moves and two kids. We, in turn, have been equally loyal and give her periodic increases without being asked. Seems that since we moved to this building, she has picked up clients for practically every day here, including Fridays with our next door neighbor. If I could figure out who her other clients are we could set up a kind of "Maria Co-op" with-in our co-op and make sure that she gets treated right by everyone. Honestly, I hope that her other clients appreciate her as much as we do.

A Maria Story:

Maria has a very specific way of doing things and very strong opinions as to where things belong. Over the years, we have learned that inevitably, Maria is right.

Many years ago, when she worked for my mother-in-law (something she did until a few weeks after mom's death), she and mom had a disagreement about the placement of a bookcase. It is and was a lovely bookcase, I think mom said it was maple. Anyhow, Mom felt that it belonged on one wall and Maria felt it belonged on a different wall. Every other week, for months, Maria would move the bookcase (not an easy feat as it was full of books and heavy) and afterwards, Mom would have me or Mike move it back. Finally, we spoke sharply to Mom and she caved in, the bookcase staying where Maria put it.

Fast forward to just after Mom's death. While cleaning out her bedroom I decided that I had to have this one piece of furniture even if it wound up in my office at work. Since it was summer, we brought it home, temporarily, and put it where we felt it looked best in our bedroom. It was promptly filled with books taken from Mom's apartment, heavy books. The very next week ... Maria moved it to an adjacent wall. We knew better then to fight so there it still resides. (Never did make it in to my office.)

When I figure out where Maria put my camera I will take and post a picture of the infamous bookcase and its burden of folios.

Home Again

I'm back. My Doctor did what he had to do and, since I was out anyway, revised my scar (with my prior permission) so it will be a little prettier and less visible and should pull a little less then it was. Once the local wears off, my face should feel like it did right after the accident and by next week I should be back to where I was when I walked in this morning. After that, we will see.

Right now I am a little loopy because once the local started to wear off (and it was wearing off on my eye while I was still there) I decided not to be a hero and took the strong stuff. But only one. Love drug directions that say "one or two." Not! I will also not pass any drug tests this week. One more was prescribed today since the work was a bit more extensive then expected. Just call me Steroid Girl.

So, now I am spending the rest of the day half blog surfing, half dozing and half doing not much of anything. Nope, no desire to pick up my knitting needles even though Mike was nice enough to hand me my sock as he helped to make my little nest here on the couch.

I will play it smart and skip work tomorrow though I will take the kids up to school as usual -- probably by subway or cab instead of driving. Then back home to dodge my cleaning lady all day. I'm also taking a half-day on Thursday since I already have to go in late due to a publishing party at Little Squid's school and then I have to pick him up after school due to a lack of chaperonage this week due to his escort's final exams. Works for me. I won't lose an entire day from my sick bank and I get a leg up on Friday when I am theoretically in charge for the day.

Oh, and I got clearance to ride in the 5-Boro Bike tour this weekend as long as I take it slow. Woo Hoo! I am hoping to find Debby, and Ina and their spouses. Just remember ladies, we Squid ride as a pack (or at least 2-by-2) and our slowest rider may very well be me and not Little Squid this time. *g* No offense taken if you say a quick "hi" and ride on. We did a nice pace during the Century but I don't want to jinx anything here.

Memory Lane

(I'm killing time until I leave for my face repair so I figured I'd share another teen-aged memory with you.)

Yesterday I spotted a student wearing a vivid combination of a bright yellow top and a flirty turquoise mini skirt. The skirt reminded me of the very first piece of clothing I ever bought with my own money.

When I was a kid, and through my early college years, my father had an office in the Chanin Building in Manhattan. (Go ahead, click on the link, there are some wonderful Art Deco friezes (?) on this building that have to been seen, not described.) This building has, as many in the area do, a direct connection to the Grand Central subway lines. Whenever we went to the office via subway, we would wend our way through the maze of passages that is the huge station and find the exit that led to a tunnel in the basement of the Chanin Building. These building tunnels are populated with retail stores and the store right by the stairs leading to the Chanin's lobby, was a women's boutique.

During my senior year in high school, I was working once a week or so for my dad and I would pass this store frequently. This was the mid-eighties and mini skirts were back, as were bright colors. In the window of this store hung an array of poofy, bright colored mini skirts (think cheerleader and you'll be close). I HAD to have one and it HAD to be turquoise. I don't know why, but this skirt was meant to be mine!

I saved my allowance raided my piggy bank and after weeks of hemming and hawing, finally bought my very first piece of clothing. I paired it with a bright pink top and proudly wore it to school -- where I learned that riding the subway in a mini skirt is an uncomfortable mental experience. But I was everything I thought I'd be in that skirt, flirty and fun and much more "out there" then usual.

That skirt stayed in my closet, a symbol of my entre' into adulthood, for many, many years. I wore it infrequently, and never again on the subway. It always brought out my fun side and I wish I'd had the self confidence to wear it more often.

My father, by the way, said "I would have paid for that. We pay for your clothing." Gee, if that was still true ... (Just kidding, Daddy.) That statement has worked it's way into my own style of parenting where I pay for all the necessities. But the question of when to let them pay for something themselves is a tricky one. They should not have to buy food or clothes but wanting to is a step into adulthood and who am I to stop the passage of time. The compromise -- we pay for the basics but if they want a snack on their way home from school or want to buy lunch instead of taking what their father made for them, then they can use their allowance.

(Only 1.5 hours to go ...)

Getting Ready

Squidette and I hit the shoe store yesterday in an effort to get strappy sandals for the upcoming wedding. On our way, we happened down the block with the snake.And then discovered, two trees later,
an Orangatan.

We continued on to Union Square and did not come across anything else considered photo worthy. We did, however, manage to score sandals for both of us. Woo Hoo! These are Squidette's first pair of heels. Eek! Also acquired were dressy handbags. And so, with Papa having tried on his tuxedo (it fits), we are ready! I even know where his cuff links are!

(My dress)

Now to just choose the knitting for the weekend. This won't do because I expect to finish it this week. I figure that even on heavy painkillers I should be able to handle simple stockinette and ribbing. And, hopefully, I won't need the big guns for the pain. Got to love a doctor who writes the post-op prescriptions ahead of time so you don't have to stagger to the pharmacy after the fact and wait in pain ... shades of my c-section. (O.k., Mike went to the pharmacy but I had to wait, in pain.)

Now, everyone focus their love on Susan today! Fingers are crossed on this coast.

Soft Food

We are brainstorming here at the House of Squid. Mama will need soft food for a few days this week. Papa is getting ready to make rice and chocolate puddings but I'm thinking that something savory might be a good idea. I am, however, stumped. Oh, and the rest of the family also has to eat and for some reason we are stumped on that front as well. Skillet Lasagna has been requested and will fill both "soft food" and "family food" categories. Any other suggestions? (Yes, we do usually manage to feed the family without too much trouble. It's just this week ...)

Yes, it seems that my little accident did more to my face then originally assumed and my dentist made the catch -- hence his insistence that I see his friend the plastic (and facial) surgeon. A little bit of "wait and see" and a lot of experience on the part of the latter seemed to prove the point. So, repairs are being made Tuesday morning.

The lace I was working on last week? A way of distracting myself. You see, I've known about this repair work since last Thursday but only just told Squidette this morning. Now I can go public. I wrapped the lace up all pretty last night and it will be delivered by my folks when they visit the happy couple next week.

Got to Remember ...

to check for errata before starting a project! A difference in the cast on number can make a huge difference in the pattern.

I got to the point of dividing for the front and back when I realized that something was wrong. After assuring myself that it wasn't me, I did a quick google and discovered that the cast on and first two rows of the front were written incorrectly.Frogging ensued.I am now half-way back down the neck after some quality playground time this afternoon. We'll try that dividing thing again later tonight.

Meanwhile ... here is the lace scarf I have been channeling my excess energy into. It required focus to keep on track even though it is a simple pattern. I started this over a year ago when I was in an "accessories" phase. When I picked it up again last week, however, it did not scream "wear me" but rather whispered ... "give me to a bride." And so, with my brother's blessing, I am sending it off to my soon-to-be sister-in-law, may she wear it well.

The yarn is handspun (by me) lace weight merino silk. I probably have more than enough for a second scarf should I so choose to make it. The pattern is (I think, I lost it) Bias Lace from the 2005 Pattern A Day calendar.

***

We did get out for an early ride this morning, hitting the road by 8:00 a.m. Up to Fairway to pick up the fixings for a picnic breakfast. Over to Grants Tomb to eat said breakfast (muffins, scones and bagels). Then over to the first apartment that Mike and I lived in in Manhattan. Look up at the very top floor of the center building. That was ours. A tiny, one bedroom, fifth floor walk up. This building is really neat. The owners bought it because they loved the neighborhood and wanted to live there. We stayed for 3.5 years until it became time to enlarge our family a bit.Round the corner to the Buddhist Center ...This statue was practically at the epicenter of the Hiroshima nuclear attack.

Then down Riverside Drive and home. 13.3 miles.

***

Squidette had some friends up to work on their science fair project which led into that quality playground time where I was the adult to Little Squid's child. The young ladies, of course, did not need an adult to supervise. Eh hem. Hey, these kids travel the subways alone -- why do they need me in the playground?Oh, and there might have been a trip to School Products ...
The three skeins of lace weight cashmere are all meant as gifts. The other two skeins of silk-cashmere ... well hey, I'm not made of stone!
And it is autographed by Berta! (Berta gave Squidette her very first pair of knitting needles, 6 or 7 years ago, because she was such a cute and well behaved kid.)

Winging It

I'm winging it. There I said it. The fates have been tempted. After two swatches -- where my stitch count decreased instead of increasing -- I have decided to just go down one more needle size and get started. You are all laughing at me. I know. It's o.k. I have no fear of ripping back, just a loathing of swatching yet again.
This will be the "Perfect Periwinkle turtleneck tube vest" from Fitted Knits by Stefanie Japel. Yes, it requires either a lot of self-confidence, or a strapless bra. Heck, I have to get one for my brother's wedding anyway. Yeah, at 40 I have no delusions about the state of my upper torso. And no, I will not let my new plastic surgeon at them. He can stick to repairing my face, thank you very much.Little Squid had a Math Project publishing party today. His group's project? Figure out how much paper (8.5 X 11) would be needed to cover Central Park. And then find out how much it would cost using the least expensive supplier and including the shipping. Their final cost? Something like $210,000 using 50,000 reams of paper. They did not take the contour of the land in to account. Or the fact that the paper covering the lake would sink ...
This was from Tuesday's Social Studies publishing party. I missed Tuesday's party because he gave me the notice on Monday night and I really could not get away from work on that little notice. O.k., I could have but I am trying to preserve good will right now after taking bits of time here and there in the month since my little incident. I try not to take advantage of my bosses good nature -- and I have made it to every other publishing party in the last two years. And there is another publishing party next week.

(For those of you unacquainted with the Publishing Party, this is what elementary schools do to celebrate the childrens' work. They get the parents into the classroom where we can see what wonderful work our kids are doing. We also get snippets of time with the teachers if we so choose. My mother-in-law used to go to about half of them for me but I have made all but one in the almost two years since she died. Last year I was at one practically every other week when both kids were in the same school. No, I am not unhappy that middle schools do not follow this practice.) I go because it brings a huge smile to the face of my child. That makes it totally worth it.Cool tree. Just thought you'd like to see it. One of the street trees near Little Squid's school.
Hey, she didn't flinch when she saw I was posting it ...

A Sweater for My Daughter

About a month ago I was feeling guilty about my relationship with my daughter. So, I did what I do best and tried to express my love through wool. Here we go:I tried to take a picture of the buttons but the flash wiped out the cute flower pattern on them. Maybe we'll try again over the weekend.

Squidette is thrilled and the sweater should last her for a year or so until she out grows it. The I think it will fit me.

A Contract!

I try not to bring money into this blog but my union's contract expired four years ago. Yesterday my union and the city declared that they had a contract and the news programs started touting how large a raise we are getting. Nowhere did anyone point out that this is a SEVEN year contract. SEVEN years folks. Four of them retroactive.

Come September everyone will be talking about how, with their huge raises, Principals and Assistant Principals should really show results now. Really. Can someone please point out that we have been without a contract for FOUR years? That the majority of the staff we supervise have had TWO contracts in that time? That, for the last two years, many of those we supervise were earning more than we were -- for fewer obligated hours. (Notice I said obligated. I know perfectly well that teachers work tons of hours outside of their contractual day. So do we.)

To quote Bill the Cat, thfft!

That said, I'm trying to think about what to do with my soon-to-be-larger salary and honestly, I can't think of anything we want or need. It's a nice feeling.

Now to figure out how to get back into the classroom part-time.

Tomorrow, maybe some knitting.

Papa Squid Chaperones a Trip

So Mike helped chaperone a trip for the Jewish History class at his school today. The theme of the trip was the Lower East Side, which you have seen in this blog before. This time, however, they were able to go in to structures that I have only photographed from the outside.

This is the inside of the Bialystoker Synagogue. Check out the lobster in the center of this photo. A lobster in a synagogue? They have all of the signs of the Zodiac around the ceiling. Hence the lobster (crab).
Mike has no idea what the prices on this plaque mean. Anyone out there able to interpret? Our Hebrew (and the plaque may be in Yiddish) is not nearly up to this task.One of its claims to fame (?) is that gangsters Bugsy Siegel and Meyer Lansky were both members. That's Bugsy's memorial plaque (Benjamin) below.
A very real claim to fame is the small break in the wall leading to a ladder leading to a hideout on the underground railroad. Mike is pretty sure that it is in the corner pictured here.



Kehila Kedosa Janina -- above and below. Founded by jewish immigrants from Greece.
Inside the final part of the renovation of the Eldridge Street Synagogue. This was the first synagogue built for the purpose of being a synagogue. Somewhere on this blog is a picture of the front of it. Probably last summer if you are looking for it.
Yes, they let the teachers up in to the scaffolding. The kids had to stay below.
The person who owned this bank largely financed the building of the Eldridge Street Synagogue.
And, because he is a good husband, he brought back chocolate. But not pickles.