Closing Bell: Keeping Quiet in Park Slope
Park Slope isn’t known as a particularly noisy neighborhood, aside from the normal mixture of traffic, sirens, screaming school kids. But some folks are seriously bothered by the rumble of low-flying planes. So bothered, in fact, that they’ve created the group Brooklyn Against Aircraft Noise, replete with a signable petition and a call to spread…
Park Slope isn’t known as a particularly noisy neighborhood, aside from the normal mixture of traffic, sirens, screaming school kids. But some folks are seriously bothered by the rumble of low-flying planes. So bothered, in fact, that they’ve created the group Brooklyn Against Aircraft Noise, replete with a signable petition and a call to spread the flying routes out evenly, so no one neighborhood will be targeted with blaring engines…not to mention that blue ice.
Photo by judester1213.
Hey doldrums, how can you comment when I lobodomized u years ago.
One of their links says it all:
COMPLAIN
Seriously. Get a life. It’s not ‘all about you’, Park Slope. Planes DO go over other neighborhoods.
Thank you, Nokilissa. It’s fine to express an opinion about air traffic, but why is it necessary to attack babies? How does this issue have anything to do with strollers? For god’s sake, talk about having nothing better to do.
Can we stop Harrythehat from playing with his home lobotomy set
These idiots have no clue of what they are talking about. First of all you cannot just change flight patterns. Thier is a specific reason they fly over park slope and other locations. Planes must land into the wind, and other weather patterns call for specific routes. These morons know nothing of what they request and should do some research before they open thier mouths. Typical liberals with nothing to do.
I saw Laurie Anderson perform right after 9-11. Her song “O Superman” took on a rather sinister tone:
Well, you don’t know me,
but I know you.
And I’ve got a message
to give to you.
Here come the planes.
So you better get ready.
Ready to go.
You can come as you are,
but pay as you go.
Pay as you go.
And I said: OK.
Who is this really?
And the voice said:
This is the hand, the hand that takes.
This is the hand, the hand that takes.
This is the hand, the hand that takes.
Here come the planes.
They’re American planes.
Made in America.
Smoking or non-smoking?
. . .
My father made the unfortunate mistake of buying a coop in the Bronx, near Mosholu Pkway. 19th floor, right over the elevated #4 line, and the rail yards. Also right under the flight path. The building was a big X in cross section so sound bounced up. The roar of the planes was so bad we could hear each other speak until it passed. Then he went out an bought an antique that chimed very loudly every 15 minutes. I remember one wonderful evening- the #4 was coming into the station, they were pulling several more into the railyard, the plane was directly overhead and it was 12 midnight so he damn clock was clanging. Now THAT was noise.
sixtyyears and counting- what a terrible story. Ever since 9-11 I tend to look up a every plane with trepidation. I can only imagine how much worse it would be for you and for those who lived through the plane crash in Park Slope- or in Belle Harbor where a plane crashed after 9-11.
Z:
I checked out the video. Remarkable. Also note how down-at-the-heels Park Slope looks! (For the area’s recent arrivals, it should be a real eye opener. There’s nothing upper-middle class about the place!)
The accident was in 1960, even earlier than I remember. And it happened December 16! (How’s that for coincidence?)
After Googling around I found an article that claims that the Park Slope preservation movement was kicked off by the tragedy. Apparently Robert Moses wanted to tear down what the piece describes as “the declining neighborhood” and replace it with a housing project, figuring that some of the demolition was already done! The community organized itself, resisted, and the rest is history.
And the little boy was actually from Illinois, about to meet his mother in New York. He lived because he was thrown into a snow bank, and neighbors raced to his aid. He spoke to them, concerned that his mother would be worried about him. He died the next day, at Methodist Hospital. He was eleven.
In two years it’ll be the crash’s fiftieth anniversary. Maybe it’ll be appropriate for local brownstoners to gather, mark the event, and recognize the important influence it had on what they take for granted today.
NOP
Six Years and Counting;
I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe what I heard is that it was the deadliest civilian catastrophe up to that time. Anyway, I stand corrected.