The Most Dangerous Woman in America

Via the Jewish Women's Archive: Emma Goldman's career, followed closely by many in the Yiddish-speaking world, provided this newspaper — subtitled "A Journal of Humor, Wit, and Satire" — with a great deal of subject material. The caption under this cartoon reads: "Emma Goldman, the grogger [noise-maker] and Free Speech in America." The cartoonist effectively pokes fun both at Goldman's outspokenness and at the authorities' attempts to silence the "noise-maker."

On our Stoop, Synagogue, Soapbox walking tour, we stroll the local streets while exploring the intersection of politics, ideology and religion on the Lower East Side of 100 years ago. One of the more(in)famous characters we meet along the way is Emma Goldman-- feminist, anarchist, rabble rouser and proponent of free love. A fascinating historical figure, Goldman's life was dedicated to changing the status-quo of the world in which she found herself: "I want freedom, the right to self-expression, everybody's right to beautiful, radiant things."

Looking for Goldman on the internet? Here are a few places to help your search:

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  Berkley Digital Libary SunSite offers a digital index to her correspondence, government papers, articles and speeches
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  Read her famous essays at Project Gutenberg
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  Prefer your anarchy bite-sized? Don't miss her Twitter feed 

Join us at 7 PM on Thursday, August 12th as we meet Emma and other East Side politicos on the Stoop, Synagogue, Soapbox walking tour. Email Nina Cohen to reserve a spot.

(Jewish) Gangs of New York

On our Gangster, Writer, Rabbi walking tour, we explore the lives-- and funeral processions-- of three iconic Lower East Side figures: writer Sholem Aleichem, Rabbi Jacob Joseph, and East Side gangster Big Jack Zelig. Though Bugsy Siegel and  Meyer Lansky usually come to mind when thinking of Jewish gangsters, Zelig was a true leader of crime in the neighborhood. As Abraham Schoenfeld, detective for the Kehilla, a Jewish communal organization, wrote: "Men before him - like Kid Twist, Monk Eastman, and others - were as pygmies to a giant. With the passing of Zelig, one of the most 'nerviest', strongest, and best men of his kind left us."

Who was Big Jack Zelig? Born Zelig Harry Lefkowitz,

Zelig was the leader of a band of Jewish gangsters in New York City in the early 1900s. Early in 1912, the Zelig gang was hired by corrupt New York City Police Lieutenant Charles Becker who ran a protection racket for the New York gangs to kill another Manhattan gangster named Herman (Beansie) Rosenthal whom Becker thought was an informant. Rosenthal was shot to death on a Manhattan Street on July 16,1912 by four of Big Jack's men. Police Lieut. Becker was arrested and charged with ordering Rosenthal's murder and put on trial with Zelig scheduled to testify against him. On Oct. 5,1912, the night before the trial was to begin Big Jack Zelig was shot to death while riding on a Second Ave. trolley car in Manhattan. Police Lieut. Becker was convicted of ordering Rosenthal's murder and sentenced to death. He was executed in Sing-Sing's electric chair. 

Death may be final, but the story doesn't end there. Find out how Zelig's funeral polarized the downtown Jewish community, underscoring tensions between American commericalism and Eastern European traditions. The tour is offered Thursdays July 29  and August 19 at 7pm.

Independence Day

After leaving Eastern Europe, the founders of our synagogue forged their lives as Americans on the streets of the Lower East Side. How did they celebrate their newfound heritage? Unfortunately, I've found no mention of barbecued borscht or other culinary treats, but a strong sense of pride as Americans certainly took hold in the Eldridge Street Synagogue's congregation. As Annie Polland comments in Landmark of the Spirit: The Eldridge Street Synagogue,

Within the walls of the synagogue, immigrants forged an American Jewish identity that blended patriotism to their new country with a sense of responsibility to Jews around the world...In 1889 the congregation decorated the synagogue in honor of the centennial of George Washington's iunaguruation and, in 1901, held a memorial service for President William McKinley. During World War I, the congregation commisioned and displayed an American flag with stars for each one of the congregation's sons serving in the war (12.)

This ode to the patriotic boys serving overseas hung from special flagholders, placed in the women's balcony and embellished with five-pointed American stars. Flying proudly from the magestic facade of the Eldridge Street Synagogue, the flag must have seemed like a banner for American pride and identity. Though the flags have been lost to time, the flagholders stand as important reminders of the independence felt by our founders in this country.

From the Trenches: An Egg Cream Report

At our annual Egg Rolls and Egg Creams Festival this past Sunday, I celebrated my 5th year of pouring, stirring and sipping egg creams, the official beverage of the Lower East Side (in my estimation, at least.) Serving egg creams to a crowd of 8,000 is like running a marathon: a true test of endurance, ending in sweet, chocolaty victory. We came, we stirred, and we conquered, selling out our entire supply!

You may be wondering: what exactly is an egg cream? According to Wikipedia,

"An egg cream is a classic beverage consisting of chocolate syrup, milk, and seltzer, probably dating from the late 19th century, and is especially associated with Brooklyn, home of its alleged inventor, candy store owner Louis Auster.^[1][2][3] It contains neither eggs nor cream. The egg cream is almost exclusively a fountain drink; although there have been several attempts to bottle it, none has been wholly successful, as its fresh taste and characteristic head requires mixing of the ingredients just before drinking. The drink can be compared to a traditional ice cream soda, though it contains no ice cream."

To make an egg cream at home in an 8-ounce cup, here is a quick recipe handed down from John Heller, pictured above. At Eldridge Street, he is the Grand Poobah of the Cream, and indeed taught me how to make my very first. I've since used this recipe hundreds of times, and it never fails to impress:

1. Pour Fox's U-Bet syrup into cup, approximately 1 inch thick. Accept no imitations.
2. Add a splash of milk about the same height, stir vigorously.
3. Add seltzer to the mixture, ending slightly below the top of cup. Beware! Overflowing is an occupational hazard.
4. Stir, serve and enjoy!

Are you a pickle person? Is deli your delicacy? Love lime rickies? Tell us about your favorite East Side Treat!

Festival Musings

When I first envisioned a Chinese Jewish Festival more than ten years ago, I thought it would be good for the neighborhood and for our mission to tell the story of the immigrants who made and make our neighborhood special. I imagined Chinese and Jewish artists and musicians sitting side by side informing the public about their traditions. What I did not expect, but experienced starting at our very first festival back in 2000, is the deep feeling of community and joy that emanates from all the participants and festival goers – this is a New York Moment.

Walking south on Eldridge Street from the B Train on Grand Street, you are in Chinatown: dumpling shops and markets sell more than 20 varieties of soy sauce and all sorts of dried foods in bins, fish so fresh that it still moves and store signs in Chinese with auspicious names like Prosperity Dumplings or Good Lock Locksmith; there is a Buddhist temple, too. However, if you look closely, you might notice Harris Levy Fine Linens and remember that your bubbe went there to buy her wedding linens; or you might see a tenement with Moorish windows and a faded Star of David on the façade – a sign that the building was once a synagogue.

If you've been lucky enough to visit us on the first Sunday in June over the past 10 years, you might have thought you had stumbled into a whole other wonderful world. You hear strains of klezmer music and see folks dancing a hora. If you stay a bit longer, the strains of Ray Musike’s Romania Romania slowly change into a Chinese folk song led by bandmaster Mr. Hoy and members of the Qi Shu Feng Peking Opera transform themselves into monkey kings and tigers and flip through the air. You shake your head twice, no three times, and enter the 1887 landmark Eldridge Street Synagogue. Sitting side by side is a Hebrew scribe, demonstrating this sacred art, with a Chinese calligrapher. A bit deeper into the sanctuary there is a tefillin maker, a most holy man who so loves his work that you, too become intrigued by his story and his ritual objects and you feel that you might have just stepped into a shop in Jerusalem.

You learn that the synagogue is still a place of worship but just as important that this neighborhood was always an immigrant neighborhood, that just as years ago the shops had Yiddish signs and sold yarmulkes and tallisim and prayer books, now there are Chinese signs and the mamma loshen and lukshen has been transformed to Chinese and pulled noodles and somewhere this odd juxtaposition of Chinese and Jews has turned into a day of mutual respect and sharing. It’s New York after all, where benign indifference can turn into neighborly love, and egg roll meets egg cream for an afternoon of shared delight

-Hanna Griff-Sleven, Director of Programs

School Days: A Reader's Answer

In response to my last School Days post about the cheder at the Eldridge Street Synagogue, former Director of Education Annie Polland sent in some enlightening details. Taken from a paper she presented at a conference about the institution of the Bar Mitzvah at the turn of the last century, the following gives us a better understanding of why the congregation's school lasted only one year:

Why didn’t these congregations start Hebrew schools from the start? We know that the congregation encompassed far more activities in its domain other than merely worship. Politics, building maintenance, charitable activities, and study for adults all took on formal arrangements in the synagogue. Why then, wasn’t there room for formal children’s education? One reason for the hesitancy in building up their own school was that both individuals members and the congregation as a whole was an early and avid supporter of the Machzike Talmud Torah. Given that strong support, they probably reasoned that duplicating their efforts by exerting energy for a school on their premises would only frustrate those already underway. But by 1901, ideas had shifted: The Board of Trustees met on September 30, 1901 and discussed opening a Talmud Torah for its members: “It will be a good thing for Judaism and also a benefit for our congregation.” Several days later, when the trustees brought the proposal “of establish[ing] a school on Shul premises, to provide instruction for the children of members” and that the school should be under the directorship of the conregation” to the general meeting, it was enthusiastically received, as the members not only unanimously accepted it and appointed a committee [David Cohen at head], but opened up their wallets to pledge individual contributions.

 A total of $569.25 was raised over two fundraising efforts in the fall of 1901 and summer of 1902. “Cash” contains a section devoted to the “Beit Sefer” and shows the fundraising efforts engaged upon by the members. In several fundraising efforts, starting in October of 1901, August of 1902, individuals pledged money, amounting to the sum of $569.25 , from which teachers were hired, ledgers purchased, and advertisements placed.


At the end of the term in December, the board studied the books and decided to continue the school, which would hold its next session starting July of 1902. Over the next year and half, the board and congregation seemed pleased with the school, continuing to support it and even overseeing construction at the Bes Medrash level for the creation of classrooms. The Cash book shows expenses for teachers, one of them Leib Matlawsky, the secretary. In 1903, there appears to be hesitation, with the congregation pledging their renewed support, but appointing a new school committee (perhaps the former one had become dormant?). The problem seemed to be a loss of funds: “To this end, the following committee is appointed to take care of this matter properly, to be knowledgeable about the finances, so that the congregation will know how much to appropriate when necessary.” In addition to their interest in the financial management of the school, they seemed to think that scholarly nature of the school needed some professionalism, and thus one of the first acts of the committee was to appoint Rav Yosef Fried, who directed much of their adult study sessions and had just published Ohel Yosef, as an advisor.


As the term continued, the financial difficulties were not resolved, and in April 1903 the general meeting debated the topic, and in May of 1903 decided to end the congregation’s formal administration of the school, instead allowing the two teachers to continue their classes in the shul for the next six months “at their own expense.” Because the Minutes do not go into any details, and the Cash book shows an imbalance between income and expense, it is hard to say what happened beyond financial failure. Around the same time, the Minutes show that the congregation had just started to debate the option of opening an uptown branch. Many of the members of the school committee were among those who were interested in the uptown branch, so it is possible that their energies and interests were simply diverted. If they had moved uptown already, then presumably their children were in school uptown, and they were less motivated to lend the energies needed to establish a new school downtown. Indeed, David Cohen—the leader of the committee and who would emerge as the leader of the uptown contingent, was himself a prime player in the movement to build the Uptown Talmud Torah. So, it is possible that just at this juncture, many of the wealthier members had or were starting to move uptown, thus shifting their educational ambitions northward as opposed to the synagogue.

Thanks, Annie! Stay tuned for more about the local public schools, the foundation of Jewish day schools and education for girls coming up over the next few weeks.

The Lost Languages

Language is one of the aspects of immigration that we explore through exhibits and education programs at the museum. In our Yiddish newspaper interactive activity, visitors become editors of their very own turn-of-the-century paper, mixing articles from socialist presses with editorials from the Orthodox dailies. The display of Yiddish signs from the neighborhood shows the integration of English words into like "clean" and "fix" into the Yiddish language. A recent article in the New York Times discuss issues of language and immigration, highlighting the ways in which immigration can be a death knell for a rare language.

"Listening to (and Saving) the World’s Languages" explores how New York has become the greatest repository of rare languages:

In addition to dozens of Native American languages, vulnerable foreign languages that researchers say are spoken in New York include Aramaic, Chaldic and Mandaic from the Semitic family; Bukhari (a Bukharian Jewish language, which has more speakers in Queens than in Uzbekistan or Tajikistan); Chamorro (from the Mariana Islands); Irish Gaelic; Kashubian (from Poland); indigenous Mexican languages; Pennsylvania Dutch; Rhaeto-Romanic (spoken in Switzerland); Romany (from the Balkans); and Yiddish.

For many of these languages, there are more speakers in New York than in the area where the language originated ."'It is the capital of language density in the world,' said Daniel Kaufman, an adjunct professor of linguistics at the Graduate Center of the City University of New York. 'We’re sitting in an endangerment hot spot where we are surrounded by languages that are not going to be around even in 20 or 30 years.'" The City Room blog created a list of the least-commonly spoken languages in New York and how many people are known to speak  them. Topping the list is Cayuga, with only 6 speakers! Though the number of Yiddish speakers is considerably higher, it too is vulnerable and on the list of the Endangered Language Alliance. Once the vernacular of the Lower East Side community, it has fallen into a state of near-extinction outside of Hasidic communities.

School Days

What was education like for worshipers at the Eldridge Street Synagogue at the turn of the last century? On my walking tours, we often pass a local landmark: Mesivta Tifereth Jerusalem, known in the neighborhood simply as "The Yeshiva." This local Jewish school, chartered in 1907 and still thriving today, very often has visitors asking: Where did the members of the Eldridge Street Synagogue send their children to school? I'll explore this question over the next few weeks, showing some of the different options available to the Jewish community of the Lower East Side at the turn of the last century.

 Today's post is about school at the shul. Did the Eldridge Street congregation form a cheder, a school for boys, as many other local synagogues did?  I found the following in an index of the congregation's Yiddish books, discovered in the basement at the start of the restoration:

During the turn of the century Cong. Adath Yeshurun ran a Hebrew School, for how many years is not clear. This book has on the inside cover Beth Haseifer, Congregation 12-16 Eldridge Street, NY, October 13, 1901. Beth Haseifer, is what Hebrew schools were called. This is a ledger book for the Hebrew School. On page 9 the date seems to be Dec. 1902. It reads "Take out door of cellar . 50." None of the other expenses concern the shul building. This book contains other expenses, etc. of the shul, as well as minutes of the Loan Committee of the shul.

It appears that for at least a year there was indeed a cheder inside the Eldridge Street building. However, it seems that the school was short lived, as this is the only mention of any such school in the entire collection. Why did the school close after only a year? What does that tell us about the members' desire to educate their children in Bible, Talmud and Jewish law? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this matter.

Next time, we'll explore the most popular option for LES children: the local public schools.

Painting in the City

Recently, James Cooper's "Painting in the City" class at the Educational Alliance came to visit Eldridge Street for some watercolor inspiration and exploration. James was kind enough to share some of the students' work with us.

For more work from different sites, check out the class' blog here. I couldn't help but think of this historic photograph while perusing through the class' pictures, taken of a portrait class at the Educational Alliance in1918. Below is a photograph of Cooper's class, 92 years later. Who knows how many generations of artists have been inspired by the Eldridge Street Synagogue and other East Side landmarks?

Save the Deli- Tonight!

                       

A tasty treat you won't want to miss-- join us tonight as David Sax reads from his fantastic new book, Save the Deli at 7 PM. Sax "is a deli fanatic, whose yearning for the salted, cured meats traces back to friday nights at Yitz’s in Toronto. Further back he can trace deli lineage to his father’s childhood in Montreal, and his grandfather’s childhood in Romania...Over the course of the past few years he’s toured the world, interviewing deli owners and famous deli lovers (like Ed Koch, Ruth Reichel and Mel Brooks), tried his hand cutting sandwiches at Katz’s, and voyaged to the heart of deli country, whether New York, LA, Montreal, Paris, London, or Poland." We'll be serving local pickles as we listen to Sax wax poetic about one of the mainstays of Jewish food on the Lower East Side and beyond. This free event is sure to hit the spot!

The History Detective: Isser Reznik, Part II

In today's installment of The History Detective, we're continuing our investigation of an Eldridge Street legend, Isser Reznik [click for part I.] As I mentioned last time, I did a bit of quick research on Isser, but found only a few interesting items. I checked first on a favorite research site of mine, footnote.com, which digitizes city directories, census records and all sorts of other historic documents. We actually worked with the people behind Footnote on a recent grant, and have found their resources and insights tremendously helpful. Plugging "Isser Reznik" into the search engine, I found the following:

Here, Isser Reznik acted as the witness for his neighbor Michel Susterman's petition for naturalization. Here, Isser's home address is listed as 86 Eldridge Street, which made his walk to work at 77 1/2 Eldridge Street almost ridiculously conveninent. Yes, I am slightly jealous.

Unfortunately it was all that Footnote had for our friend Isser. I then took a look on another excellent site geared specifically to genealogy enthusiasts, ancestry.com. It too had only one search result:

Here we have an Isser Reznik living in Brooklyn, recorded on this 1920 census. He is married to Jenny, and has children Max. Blanche, Sarah, and Sam, who is married to Belle and father to Irving.  At first I was dismayed, thinking I had found a classic case of mistaken identity, the pitfall of many an amateur researcher. The original names I was given included Max, Jacob, Shmulkie, and a wife named Zeldah Rivkah! 

  

But as I looked at the original picture of the family, I realized I had forgotten to account for name changes! Many Jewish immigrants changed their names in America, or used one name within the Yiddish-speaking community and a more common American name for legal matters. Shmulkie could easily be Sam, and Max is listed on both the picture given by Isser's great-grandson and on this census record. It seemed too similar to be coincidence, and got me thinking: Could Isser have another name? Stay tuned for the next installment of The History Detective as I search for Isser's alter ego. 

The History Detective: Isser Reznik and Sons

It seems like everyone I meet has a family connection to the Lower East Side, which makes sense given how crowded this neighborhood was 100 years ago. Part of the fun of working at the Museum is helping visitors find out more about family who may have been members here and discovering more about individuals who lived and worked in the buildings that still stand right outside our front doors. Recently, Bruce Reznik shared the interesting family photograph below. Taken in front of the family storefront at 77 1/2 Eldridge Street, just down the block from our historic synagogue, the photo captures 2 generations of the Reznik family from which Bruce is descended.

Uncle Shmulkie, Uncle Max,  Great Grandpa Isser and Zehde (Jacob Cuppel Reznik)

Bruce let us know a bit about Isser and his life here on the Lower East Side:

I think Isser had 9 brothers and sisters and they all stayed in Palestine except Isser who came to the US. I think they originally came from Russia . The family had loads of money and invested it in oil during the early 1900's.  Unfortunately they lost it all.  I have a copy of an entry in the "Who's Who of American Jewry" at the time and it tells a little about him.  I know Grandpa Reznik did some designs for the materials they sold in the store.  He had patents for them and I remember him showing them to me.  Unfortunately, [his son] threw them out.  Isser had 2 wives-Zelda Rivkah Reznik (died 1/18/1927). and Sabrina Reznik (11/14/1881-11/11/1967).  Isser  died on 3/11/1944.

 This tantalizing bit of history piqued my interest. Who was Isser Reznik, a man who lived and worked mere steps away from where I now sit? Stay tuned for the next installment of this series, The History Detective, as I discover why Isser remains largely absent from the documentary trail.

Can't wait until the next chapter for more neighborhood stories? Hear all about G&S Sporting Goods, an East Side institution since 1937, in the Lo-Down's new series, "On Essex."

The Museum at Eldridge Street Blog

Welcome to the Museum at Eldridge Street’s new blog.  Based in the 1887 Eldridge Street Synagogue, the Museum at Eldridge Street presents the culture, history and traditions of the great wave of Jewish immigrants to the Lower East Side drawing parallels with the diverse cultural communities that have settled in America.

We use our landmark space to tell a multitude of stories and experiences. By visiting, you can explore American history, immigration history, Jewish ritual and culture, art and architecture. Our rich cultural programs bring the space to life with music, literature and laughter, and our walking tours keep pace with the history running through the local streets.

I'm Nina Cohen, Education Coordinator at the Museum (there I am on the left, hanging out in the historic women's gallery!) I'll be writing most of what you'll find here on the blog. I'm a walking-tour leading, history-book reading recent college grad, and the Museum at Eldridge Street is one of my all-time favorite places in New York. Where else can you find a High Victorian synagogue located in the heart of Chinatown? We'll also be featuring updates from our talented and creative staff, giving us the inside scoop on development, education, programs and marketing.

Our hope for this blog is to give you a behind-the-scenes peek into the inner workings of our museum. What work goes into our exhibits, tours and programs? Check back here to view videos of the fantastic musicians who perform in our concerts, photographs and quirky historic articles we’ve discovered, and updates from our creative staff. Our historic neighborhood is always evolving, and I’ll be blogging about its unique history and contemporary life.


We see the blog as a way of opening our historic front doors to the public, and letting you all in. Was that post interesting? Is there an item in our collection you'd like to know more about? How about a historic photo you'd love to see featured? We can't wait to hear from you!

Stay tuned, and thanks for reading!

New Year, New Tours

Visitors to the Museum currently have the option of going on our standard tour, Landmark of the Spirit, which focuses on the synagogue’s history, the Jewish East Side neighborhood, and the American immigrant experience. They can also explore our surroundings through our menu of walking tours, which range from the thrilling Gangster, Writer, Rabbi to the moving Love & Courtship.

Our building, however, is multifaceted—not just a historical site, but a significant portal into architecture and religious practice. In order to explore these planes and present them to the public, we are in the process of developing two new visitor experiences.

The Architecture Tour will debut in Spring 2010, and will explore the award-winning restoration of our National Historic Landmark. It will draw parallels with other prominent sites in New York City, nationally, and around the world that have faced preservation challenges and responded in innovative ways.

This tour is a collaborative project between the Museum at Eldridge Street and the preservation programs of Columbia University, Pratt Institute and the University of Pennsylvania. Students are researching and writing about aspects of the building and design that will help the public to engage in the building and its architecture.

Questions to be answered include: Does the design reflect the process of Americanization? What choices were made in its restoration? How does it fit into the museum’s preservation ethos? Are there examples at other sites that might be meaningful? Ultimately, we will hear back from the students about preservation projects that use green technology or sustainable practices, sites that provide creative examples of adaptive re-use, using the case study at Eldridge Street, among others.

We’ll be keeping you updated as this project develops further.

The Church of Sea and Land

While looking into the history of Eldridge Street, I came across a fantastic e-book digitized by Project Guttenberg about a historic church in the neighborhood, located on the corner of Henry and Market Streets.

The Kirk on Rutgers Farm, written by Frederick Brückbauer in 1919, celebrates a century of worship in what began as the Dutch Reformed Church, was then the Church of the Land and Sea, and is now the First Chinese Presbyterian Church. The land was deeded by Henry Rutgers in 1816, and the building on the lot has been standing since 1819.

Learn more about the history of the building.

The introduction by George Alexander describes the history of the church, and the incredible spirit of the worshippers who retained their prayer space even as the walls crumbled around them:

Of the sanctuary, which, for one hundred years, has stood on the corner of Market and Henry Streets, the author, like many others who have put their lives into it, might well say: 'Thy saints take pleasure in her stones, Her very dust to them is dear.' The story of 'The Kirk on Rutgers Farm' is one of pathetic interest. In its first half-century it sheltered a worshipping congregation of staid Knickerbocker type, which, tho blest with a ministry of extraordinary ability and spiritual power, succumbed to its unfriendly environment and perished.

The last line of the paragraph stuck with me, as it so reminds me of our synagogue building and its dramatic rescue. “Those of us who in our unwisdom said a generation ago that it ought to die judged after the outward appearance. Those who protested that it must not die, took counsel with the spirit that animated them, saw the invisible and against hope believed in hope.”

What Is an Eldridge?

To those of us who work here, the name of our street sounds completely natural. One day, Miriam Bader, the Director of Education and I were sitting around discussing walking tours when we suddenly realized that we had no idea for whom our own street was named!

I suggested that it must be a bird, thinking that Eldridge sounds remarkably like partridge, but Miriam found the winning answer: The street is in fact named after Lieutenant Joseph Eldridge, an American soldier in the War of 1812 who was killed after being scalped in Canada by Indians.

As reported in this 1813 letter, “In July 1813, the Ottawa chief, Blackbird, with 150 warriors, joined the British army which had invested the American position at Fort George at the mouth of the Niagara River. On 8 July, British and Canadian troops and their aboriginal allies ambushed an American patrol outside the fort. The fighting was vicious and casualties were heavy on both sides. During the action Lieutenant Joseph Eldridge of the 13th U.S. Infantry was killed by Blackbird's warriors. American witnesses claimed that he was murdered after being made prisoner and the American commander at Fort George lodged a protest with his British counterpart over this supposed atrocity. That officer asked the superintendent of the Indian Department to investigate the Eldridge incident and, on 15 July 1813, he visited Blackbird to admonish him and to point out that a reward of $5.00 would be paid for each American prisoner his warriors took alive.” Read more here.

In 1817, five streets on the Lower East Side were dedicated to the memories of men who died in the War of 1812: Ludlow, Chrystie, Allen, Forsyth and our good old Eldridge.

Find out more information on the 1817 naming.