What a journey I’ve been on!

I wanted to post this picture of Dorothy Parker from the New York Public Library. And it led me down a path that ended in the discovery of a long-lost and very famous relation!

The metadata says, “Dorothy Parker in backyard of residence at 412 West 47th Street, New York City.”  That’s some backyard!

I was curious if the place still exists and it turns out it does! It’s in the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood. You have to hand it to New Yorkers. They’re good at making things memorable.

The origins of this name are obscure but the Internet’s favorite explanation is that two policemen were patrolling the streets of a rough area, crowded with tenements. The rookie cop surveyed the place and said, “This place is hell itself.”

“Hell’s got a mild climate,” his partner said. “This is hell’s kitchen.”

Well anyway. The building was built in 1901 and doesn’t look so bad, does it?

Dorothy Parker never lived there. She spent copious amounts of time there drinking and talking with the residents of the apartment she affectionately(?) called “Wit’s End.”

Those residents were Harold Ross and Jane Grant, and Alexander Woollcott. Their names may be familiar to you as the founders of The New Yorker.

Dorothy Parker helped to edit early editions of the magazine. This is the first cover of The New Yorker. 

I liked the fellow on the cover but I nearly fainted when I investigated and learned his name is Eustace Tilley!  It all came together then. He looks exactly like the men in my family, right down to the top hat and monocle. Our family reunions are something else, let me tell you.

You know writing true stories, I was bound to stumble on one of my ancestors at some point. I figured it would be some ornery fellow who was part of a shoot-out at the O.K. Corral or something of that kind, but turns out Uncle Eustace was a cosmopolitan male model.

Check out this picture of Hell’s Kitchen taken by Jacob Riis in 1890.

I imagine our modern way of clearing and leveling the ground before building anything on it would’ve struck the denizens of Hell’s Kitchen as something only a sissy would do.