STRANGE that we remember things somewhat fondly after awhile that at the time, were borderline dangerous or scary. In April 2011 I was patrolling the Newtown Creek area with Mitch Waxman, the Newtown Penticleer, when on a whim he dashed across the Metropolitan Avenue bridge, attracted, perhaps, by a shiny object he spotted on the creek. I then attempted to make my way across the bridge, and, hustling to beat the traffic, I tripped on one of the bridge’s tall sidewalk curbs and gashed my temple on a railing, fortunately missing my eye. It bled for awhile, then stopped, and we made our way to the Goodfellas Diner for lunch, always an area favorite not least because Forgotten New York was cited on the historical information on the menus. While avidly chewing the burger special, the wound reopened and out came the blood again. An ambulance was summoned, and since I was still covered by my old plan after my unjustified layoff from Publishers Clearing House, I didn’t have to pay a cent for EMS; off I went to Elmhurst Hospital. The wound was cleaned and stitched and I was as good as new in a few days. Goodfellas, though, burned down a few years later.
I have been riding down Queens’ Broadway in the Q53 for years, bound for Broad Channel or the Rockaways, past Elmhurst Hospital, and never saw this set of nifty standalone versions of Bishop Crook lamps. That’s because they’re at the back end of the hospital on 41st Avenue; Broadway has wall bracket versions of these lamps, but not the full version. No idea when they were installed, but the brackets have been on Broadway for 15 years at least.
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