A Diner’s Holiday Special Draws a Thanksgiving Crowd

December 7, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Article and Photo by Earl Mays

Scopelitis

George Scopelitis, who owns the Step Ins restaurant in the Bronx with his brother, says having steady customers is the key to a restaurant’s survival.

A “Holiday Menu” sign with bright orange letters greeted pedestrians walking by the Step Ins Restaurant and Lounge in the Parkchester section of the Bronx, announcing the diner’s annual holiday special for Thanksgiving. The menu included a choice of fried turkey or duck seared and slow roasted with orange marmalade and sides of candied yams and stuffing.
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The Craft of Shoe Repair Endures

November 12, 2012 By Leave a Comment

By Justin Goldberg
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A Mid-19th Century Carpenter in 2012

October 25, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Story and photos by Teresa Roca

Norm Pederson

Norm Pederson keeps alive an ancient craft at his workshop in Historic Richmond Village on Staten Island.

Norm Pederson arrives at his 19th century style workshop on Staten Island at dawn most mornings. Inside, wooden buckets hang from the ceiling above him; spoons, butter churns and presses and rolling pins sit on tables beside him; scraps of wood are scattered around him. As Pederson picks his way through the cluttered room, sounds of wood shavings crackle beneath his work boots. He gathers his tools and prepares to split and shave wood for his next creation.

Pederson isn’t a professional carpenter. He is a volunteer at Historic Richmond Town on Staten Island.

“I portray the farmer who would be working in a shop like this in the 1850s,” said the 17-year volunteer. “I make things the way they were made at this time. That means style, materials and methods.”

A Staten Islander for all of his 66 years, Pederson dedicated his post-retirement to fulfilling two passions that began during childhood: carpentry and history. With Historic Richmond Town becoming more volunteer-dependent, Pederson helps the village stay alive and inform people of America’s history, just as he was informed as a child.

“My grandfather came to this country from Norway in the 1890s as a carpenter,” says Pederson. “My father taught me carpentry when I was a little boy with my grandfather’s tools. He taught me how carpentry was done during my grandfather’s time. I still use some of my grandfather’s tools, which is a pleasant connection with my own past.”

As a boy, Pederson frequently visited Historic Richmond Town, the only living historic village in New York City, now 25 acres with 15 restored buildings but once just a museum and the Voorlezer house, a national historic landmark.

Despite his passion for carpentry and history, Pederson didn’t pursue either as a profession. After flunking out of college (“I had a lot of fun in college”), Pederson enlisted in the army. He later worked for the city as a deck handler on the Staten Island Ferry, cleaning litter and handling lifeboats. But he never forgot the carpentry skills his father taught him and he never lost his passion for history. Pederson got involved with Civil War reenacting and returned to Historic Richmond Town for an event in 1994.

Carpenter 2

In “style, materials and methods,” Norm Pederson says, he makes things the way they used to be.

“I got talking to some of the people who work here and they were very interested in other people who were interested in history,” said Pederson. “Then an offer was made and I got involved. One day I saw the shop, which hadn’t been used in 10 years or so, and I said, ‘Can I kind of hang out in this shop?’”

When people come to Pederson’s shop, he always makes sure to follow one simple rule: grab their attention.

“Sometimes I go for a cheap thrill, such as splitting wood,” says Pederson. “Showing how it splits seems like a very simple thing, but it actually catches people’s imagination. If you can do that, then you might go a little further and talk about the technical part of it. You don’t want to start out with the technical part, because we don’t want to bore people to death. We want to entertain them.”

Felicity Biel, the director of education and programs at Historic Richmond Town, says, “Norm is a wonderful asset. He relates well to all ages of visitors and makes the story of earlier American life so accessible to people who visit his shop to see his demonstration of farmer and carpentry skills.”

Pederson’s wooden pieces aren’t just for show. His items are displayed in museums, sold to visitors, used to furnish historic houses and more. Pederson also helps Richmond Town by performing American folk music, playing the fiddle with band member Bob Conroy at Richmond Town events, helping the maintenance team pick up litter and fixing things around the village.

Carpenter 3“Beyond what visitors can see, Norm has also helped behind the scenes,” says Biel. “He has repaired spinning wheels that are used in the school workshop programs and carved wooden yokes so young visitors can try them out.”

Despite school and camping trips that visit Richmond Town, the village still suffers because of the neighborhood’s development throughout the years. As Richmond Town continues to modernize, becoming more upper class, people are beginning to forget about this rustic village that has been at the center of Staten Island’s history for hundreds of years.

“You get a lot of people from other countries; you don’t get many Staten Islanders,” says Pederson. “Since the bicentennial it has been down. Europeans are great listeners because they are interested in our history. Americans are not interested in their own history anymore. That is partly why this place doesn’t have much money.”

Although Pederson doesn’t receive money for his long hours of work, he does get paid in other ways.

“I am a very lucky person in the sense that Historic Richmond Town needs something like this and they’re nice enough to let me do this,” he says. “When you are teaching, it’s really rewarding to have people pay attention to you. Having people ask intelligent questions and being respectful, what could be better than that?”
Listen to Teresa Roca’s audio report:

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How ‘Little Ukraine’ Transformed Through the Decades

June 6, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Story and media by Anastasia Medytska

Little Ukraine

A sign outside Veselka pays tribute to the neighborhood.

These days, the East Village is filled with hipsters slinging back $2 beers at Sly Fox or satisfying a 3 a.m. craving for pierogi at Veselka without any knowledge of the rich Ukrainian history behind these neighborhood hotspots.

Behind the overcrowded bar, above shelves stocked with an array of Ukrainian vodkas, hangs a sign with the words “Lys Mykyta,” or Sly Fox, in Ukrainian. The dive bar resembles a log cabin in the famed Carpathian Mountains, which is why it also goes by a second name, known only to the Ukrainians that frequent it during off-peak hours, the Karpaty Pub.

Just one building over, on the corner of Second Avenue and Ninth Street, sits Veselka Restaurant, open 24 hours to accommodate the merry revelers of Sly Fox and places like it. From movies like “Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist,” where the titular characters grab a late-night meal near the end of the movie, to “Gossip Girl,” where Blair and Dan nosh on pierogi, Veselka holds a place in pop culture.

What its multitudes of visitors don’t know is that it opened as a result of the Ukrainian diaspora, when multitudes of Ukrainians fled a Soviet-controlled nation after World War II.

The neighborhood — with its unbeatable nightlife, cheap eats and Japanese markets — has a past teeming with Ukrainian culture. From retro eateries like the Stage Restaurant to kielbasa connoisseurs’ favorite meat market, Baczynsky, first-generation Ukrainians built a neighborhood to carry on their culture. Today, that heritage is sometimes easy to miss, but pockets of the past remain.

“I’m proud that they are still keeping the culture alive,” said Olha Medytska, a first-generation immigrant and teacher at St. George Ukrainian Catholic School, a K-12 school located on Sixth Street and Taras Shevchenko Place, which was developed for Ukrainian immigrants during times of mass immigration. “Although the majority of my students are not Ukrainian, they are still required to learn the language and they do it great! It’s good that it hasn’t been closed down; I’d be sad to see that.”

As the neighborhood, known as Little Ukraine in the 1950s, has changed and gentrified, its population has changed, too.

Surma Book & Music Company, a Ukrainian shop that opened in the 1800s, has weathered the changes, including several waves of Ukrainian immigration.

“At the end of World War II,” says Natalia Yezerska, a Ukrainian immigrant and active member of the Ukrainian-American community, “thousands of Ukrainians fled a country overtaken by the Soviet Union. They knew they could never come back to their motherland and so they developed their own ‘Little Ukraine’ here in New York to hold onto their culture.”

In the following decades, places like Veselka and the Baczynsky Meat Market opened. “These immigrants worked hard to ensure that the generations to come would know what it means to be Ukrainian, without ever visiting the country,” says Ms. Yezerska. They opened restaurants, shops, bars, schools and after-school activities.

Then came another wave of Ukrainian immigration. “In the 1990s, post-Soviet collapse, Ukraine finally gained independence and with it, Ukrainians earned the freedom to emigrate to America. This caused what is known as the fourth wave of immigration,” Ms. Yezerska says. Many came to Manhattan, which had everything they needed to comfortably settle into a foreign country.

Ms. Medytska, the teacher at St. George, came with her family during the fourth wave. “I was lucky because I had family here already but this community helped me be more comfortable and I know it helped so many people who didn’t know anyone or a word of English,” she says.

Surma

Wares inside Surma showcase Ukrainian heritage.

And so the Ukrainian community blossomed anew.

Ukrainians are fiercely proud of their cultural heritage, all the more so that it survived Soviet domination. Even though they may no longer flock to Manhattan, as a result of rising rent prices and falling immigration, Ukrainians still make the trip for a piece of Little Ukraine on weekends.

Every Saturday morning, throngs of Ukrainian parents come to the East Village to engrain some Ukrainian culture into their American-born children. The typical day starts with Ukrainian school in the morning. There are two such schools in the area, one housed in the St. George School building and another, a block away on Second Avenue, in the Ukrainian National Home.

Children learn the Ukrainian language, as well as history and customs in classrooms adorned with Ukrainian flags and symbols. Afterward, they go to either PLAST or CYM, two international Ukrainian Youth organizations. In khaki uniforms adorned with badges and medals, the idea is similar to scouting.

However, instead of selling cookies and tying knots, the children learn Ukrainian songs and poems and do fun activities for holidays, such as Easter egg painting. The day doesn’t stop there for some. Many children also attend dance classes, either at the Roma Pryma Bohachevska School of Dance or with a small group in St. George, where they learn Ukrainian folk dances.

Meanwhile, parents shop at Baczynsky meat market, the only remaining Ukrainian meat market in the neighborhood (once, there were three), and visit the Ukrainian National Credit Union, which has branches nationwide. They might grab a meal at the Ukrainian East Village Restaurant or go to a party in the Ukrainian National Home. Then they drive back to Connecticut, Brooklyn, New Jersey and upstate New York, only to come again for church at St. George Ukrainian Catholic Church on Sunday mornings.

The locals, many of whom are not Ukrainian, support the businesses on the days there are no Ukrainians coming in from the suburbs.

“This is a place for Lower East Side hipsters on weekends. Many of the young people here don’t even know it’s Ukrainian until they spend some time here,” said Ariel, a bartender at Sly Fox. Places like the Stage Restaurant, Veselka and Sly Fox have become culture icons for locals, a reminder of New York’s ethnic niches and of days gone by.

With the support of both visiting immigrants and local New Yorkers alike, Little Ukraine thrives on.

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In the Bronx’s West Farms, Families Struggle for a Better Life and Worry About Their Children

June 6, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Story and media by Carlos Canela

Eight-year-old Kayden Montes, who lives in the West Farms section of the Bronx, has great respect for “El Cuko,” the imaginary monster he hears when night falls.

“When it’s dark outside the Cuko comes out with all his Cuko friends and I hear them from my room all the way up here yelling and screaming all the time,” Kayden says. “My mommy says that if I don’t do good in school, that’s how the Cuko gets you and makes you follow him too. That’s why she doesn’t let me play outside.

What Kayden doesn’t realize is that El Cuko and its friends are actually neighborhood delinquents, and his mother is trying to protect him from becoming just another “hood rat.”

Patricia Hernandez, 26, Kayden’s mother, keeps him close to home and school.

“This place isn’t a good environment for kids to grow up in, if it isn’t gun shots, it’s ambulances or police sirens waking you up in the middle of the night,” said Hernandez, a single mother who also has a daughter, Kailin Montes.

Parents in West Farms, in the central Bronx, north of the Cross-Bronx Expressway and south of the Bronx Zoo, look to after-school programs as a means of keeping their children on track for a better life. But plans for extensive cutbacks to those programs have left parents fearful.

Long-time West Farms resident Maria Merejido, 54, remembers what it was like raising four boys in the neighborhood, “I always had to stay on top of them and make sure they did all of their work, I let them watch TV after but there was no way I was gonna let them play outside in that mess,” she says.

The mess she referred to was a neighborhood embroiled in gang wars during the late ’80s and early ’90s. With all of her children grown, ranging now from ages 26 to 34, Merejido recalls putting them through college, “It wasn’t easy but I always on top of them about their work. Around here college is a dream, but too many of these kids give up on it. So many of these kids get stuck doing the wrong things and it’s hard once you start down that road.”

West FarmsAn area primarily consisting of low-income housing, West Farms is one of the poorest neighborhoods in New York City, with 34 percent of its households making $15,000 or less, according the Census Bureau. The hundreds of families on their way to the zoo seem all but oblivious to the seedy orange five-story buildings they pass.

The neighborhood’s crime rate has dropped 65 percent since 1993, according to CompStat, the police department’s database. Yet West Farms remains one of the more violent areas in the city. With a population mostly too poor to live anywhere else, the residents consider the two fastest ways out of the neighborhood to be getting an education or getting thrown in prison.

The city’s plan to close 10 schools in the Bronx includes at least three that will affect the West Farms neighborhood, and parents and teachers are all feeling the stress. “All of my friends that still teach in the Bronx are saying similar things, they feel underappreciated and under attack when they are not to blame,” laments Annette Garb, 28, a former third-grade English teacher.

The Panel for Educational Policy, led by Chancellor Dennis Walcott, decided that these schools could not be kept open any longer: after considering test scores, graduation rates, and evaluating the leadership. (The closings are being challenged by the teachers’ union, the United Federation of Teachers.) All the schools being shut down have received a grade of D or F in the last round of evaluations.

After-school programs, on the other hand, are suffering from a tightening budget. With more than $170 million in cuts in children’s services cuts proposed in the 2013 budget, more than half of the after-school programs in the city will end. Now many children will have to go straight home and wait for their parents to arrive from a long day of work, in the hopes that they can help.

But in areas like West Farms it’s never that simple, says after-school advocate Angela Johnson. “A lot of these parents want to be more involved but either they have to work all the time or they just aren’t capable of helping, so it comes down to programs like these and people like us to give these kids a chance.”

Johnson’s analysis is hard to contest, “These kids have it hard enough living in this neighborhood,” she says. “It’s our responsibility as adults to make sure they have every chance to make it out.”

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‘Linsanity’ Hits the Chinese Community in Queens

June 6, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Story and media by Bing Wu

Linsanity

Asian players in Kissena Park in Flushing, Queens.

When Jeremy Lin of the New York Knicks suddenly and unexpectedly emerged as a star, in Flushing, the Queens neighborhood that is home to the city’s second-largest Chinese population, “Linsanity” was a phenomenon the residents embraced.

Restaurants were filled with patrons cheering him on, the area’s basketball courts were filled with more Asian players than usual, and those who have never watched an NBA game suddenly became fans.

To the people of Flushing, Lin — whose quick rise to fame was cut short by a knee injury — brought out passion, pride and a fair measure of hype.

“My father, he never watched basketball before, now he started watching,” says Steve Lam, a Knicks fan even before Lin. “Now it’s just more exciting, I’m more looking forward to every Knicks game.”

As much as the excitement he brought to the community, Lin brought controversies as well. People on the street argued over Lin’s ethnicity.

The Chinese said Lin was Chinese, but the Taiwanese said that since his parents were from Taiwan, so he should be considered Taiwanese. And then the conversation would then turn into a larger debate about whether Taiwan is a part of China.

On YouTube, videos like “Jeremy Lin – Taiwanese Pride” or “Asian Pride” attracted tons of comments.

For many fans, that Lin attended Harvard was secondary. He was the underdog. More than that, he looked different from everyone else on the court, yet seemed so comfortable and confident.

Many people in Flushing’s Asian community admired such a confidence, whether it was found in the younger generation or the older generation. They all understood how difficult it is to be different.

Ming Wong

Ming Wong, 24, admires Lin’s mental strength.

“Lin is for real!” says Ming Wong, a 24-year-old college student who has been a fan of basketball for more than 12 years. “To perform well for one game is easy, a lot of players have those days, but to perform well continuously is hard, especially under such a huge public attention and pressure, you have to be mentally strong to do that.”

People just loved watching Lin; whenever the Knicks played, the sports bars and restaurants in Flushing were packed. Watching Lin with families and friends became a must-do thing.

Dante Claure, the manager of Applebee’s in Flushing Sky View Center mall, spent $5,000 just to make a Chinese version of his menu to accommodate the new wave of customers who were mainly there to watch Lin.

“It’s definitely worth it,” he said. “When people started to notice Jeremy Lin, they started coming here little by little, and when he became famous, suddenly we were a full house.”

Those who couldn’t make it to the bars and restaurants watched games at home with their families. “We don’t have cable before, but after Jeremy Lin, we just install it and watch him,” said Li.

Unfortunately, “Linsanity” was cut short by a knee injury, and the Knicks were eliminated in the first round of the playoffs, losing four games to one to the Miami Heat, as Lin sat on the bench in street clothes.

As much as the fans want Lin to be back to the Knicks next season, nothing is certain in this world of professional basketball. But wherever Lin goes, the community’s love for him will follow.

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Sober in the City

February 21, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Story and photos by Andrea Kayda
Originally published on Oct. 26, 2011.

Doctor and staff

Dr. Barbara Kistenmacher, center, a clinical psychologist and executive director of Hazelden New York’s Tribeca Twelve programs, meets with two staff members, Ashley Anderson and Rinaldo Morelli.

If you were designing a treatment program for young-adult substance abusers, would you place it amid the purveyors of their biggest vices?

The Hazelden Foundation, a nonprofit alcohol and drug addiction treatment center based in Center City, Minn., is doing just that — opening the Tribeca Twelve Collegiate Recovery Residence on West Broadway, in a neighborhood with one of New York’s most active party scenes.

“Sure, it can work, why not?” said Carlos Perez, an employee at 378 Electronics, around the corner from Tribeca Twelve. “They’ll have to be strong but that’s what it’s all about.”

In trendy Tribeca, the sober living dorm — its name echoing the Alcoholics Anonymous “Twelve Step Program” — hopes to help reintegrate young adults, ages 18 to 29, into society while at the same time, encouraging them to continue their education clean, sober and one step at a time.

Tribeca Twelve is surrounded by temptation. In its immediate vicinity are the Pepolino Restaurant, offering a full bar; the Pelea Mexicana Restaurant, with a daily happy hour special from 5 to 7 p.m. serving wine, tequila, beer and margaritas; and Nancy’s Whiskey Pub on the corner at 1 Lispenard St.

Rather than being wary or apprehensive about the location, Hazelden didn’t think of it as, “‘Oh, what a terrible place to put a recovery house,’ says Dr. Barbara Kistenmacher, a clinical psychologist and executive director of Hazelden New York. “They thought about it as, ‘This city needs a recovery house.’”

She adds, “We will be the very first recovery house for the college-age and graduate school-age population in New York City.”

While some neighborhoods have objected to the placement in their communities of halfway houses for recovering addicts, shelters for the abused and for the homeless, the Tribeca community is “very much supportive and receptive to the facility and its goals,” says Michael Levine, director of planning and land use of Community Board 1.

Yet not every neighbor considers it wise. “I think it’s stupid and totally unrealistic. It’s way too tempting,” says Jonathan Elkayan, who works in Tribeca.

Tribeca Twelve outside view

The Tribeca Twelve treatment is in the heart of Tribeca, on West Broadway, surrounded by the temptations of urban life.

Hazelden, which describes itself as one of the largest private nonprofit treatment centers in the world, has eight locations in Minnesota, Illinois, Oregon, Florida and now New York. The others are in more remote and sequestered settings; Tribeca Twelve is a departure.

The design of Tribeca Twelve is meant to be highly individualized and tailored to each student, based on his or her background, history and specific need, Kistenmacher says. The operation will be staffed 24/7 and will offer on-site 12-step meetings, recovery coaches and personalized recovery plans. These approaches embrace physical health, mental health and spiritual well-being, while helping clients establish academic goals. Rather than a curfew, the house will employ a quiet time of 11 p.m. in which residents who are in the building must keep the noise level to a minimum. Security cameras are at every entrance, and electronic key cards are required for access into and out of the building.

Impromptu drug tests will be administered; the ramifications of relapse can vary from an increase in drug-test monitoring and revisions to recovery plans to discharge from the program and referral to a higher level of care, according to Hazelden’s Web site.

The minimum required stay is three months and costs $5,000 to $5,500 a month — none of which is covered by health insurance. Other fees are charged for professional treatment and continuing care services, and these, however, may be covered by policies. Hazelden, like other treatment programs, promises to work with residents and their families to determine the availability of insurance to pay for professional services.

The cost is surely high in the minds of most low-income college students, but similar residential programs elsewhere in the country can cost from $7,500 to $12,000a month.

The look-and-feel inside the West Broadway building is luxury meets dormitory. The 2,200-square-foot apartments consist of two bedrooms — one with two twin beds and the other with two sets of bunk beds, accommodating four — two bathrooms, a kitchen, dining room, living room, laundry room and study. Offices and group rooms are on the lower floors.

Tribeca Twelve apartment

The two-bedroom apartments, designed to hold six students, look like a combination of college dorm and a very nice apartment.

Kistenmacher compares Tribeca Twelve most closely to Augsburg College’s Step Up Program in Augsburg, Minn., a sober-living residence within the college. Tribeca Twelve will differ, however, because it will include students studying at colleges and universities from all over the city and its outer boroughs. In addition, Kistenmacher says Tribeca Twelve’s close partnership with the Columbia University Department of Psychiatry’s treatment programs is distinctive.

Kevin J. Kindlin, a clinical psychologist and a certified substance abuse counselor, is in charge of professional and community development at the Second Nature Wilderness Therapy Program, which has locations for various age groups in Georgia, Oregon and Utah. At Second Nature, the patient is removed from her everyday life, stressors and distractions, in the hope that she will focus on recovery. While Kindlin trusts in wilderness treatment wholeheartedly, he too believes that it’s “imperative for a young adult to step into a place like Tribeca Twelve after primary care.”

Many treatment centers are placed remotely, he says, not so much a result of research dictating isolation but because of various state laws. “By far, Utah has the most supportive licensures and treatment center laws, which is why many facilities are located there, whereas some of the more populous states are more restrictive,” he says.

CooperRiis, another treatment program, offers a choice of locations in North Carolina — one a traditional site on farmland in Mill Spring, N.C., and a Tribeca Twelve-like site in downtown Asheville, N.C., a city of about 73,000. The Asheville campus, known as 85Z, places patients in an urban setting, a short distance away from many attractive nuisances such as restaurants and bars, as well as a college campus.

“If you don’t learn how to navigate the challenges of the environment you will return to after treatment, then how are you going to successfully return there?” says Todd Weatherly, managing director at the 85Z campus, putting patients an urban setting. “We need to get them support on how to still be exposed to certain triggers but to make different choices.”

Tribeca Twelve held a ribbon-cutting ceremony on Oct. 5 but cannot open its doors until an official certificate of occupancy is obtained.

Only time will tell how the program and its students fare, but Kistenmacher says her definition of a success is when a patient becomes “someone who is not just clean and sober but really develops some insight about the connection between certain aspects of their personalities, of their day-to-day mood, their affect and how all of that is connected to the behavioral choices they’re making including using drugs and alcohol.”

The Hazelden Foundation, in a news release, says it has invested $42 million to expand services to help young people who struggle with addiction find and maintain recovery, beginning with Tribeca Twelve.

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A New Comedy Club Hopes to Bring Night Life to Hunters Point, Queens

February 21, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Story and photos by Amit Farhan

Steve Hofstetter, who opened the Laughing Devil Comedy Club in Hunters Point, wants residents to spend their entertainment dollars locally.

Steve Hofstetter, who opened the Laughing Devil Comedy Club in Hunters Point, wants residents to spend their entertainment dollars locally.

On quiet, late-autumn evenings in Hunters Point, Queens, young couples walked out of one of the newly built luxury high-rise apartments on the edge of the pier and looked out on the East River and a magnificent view of the midtown Manhattan skyline. Holding each other, they enjoyed the view and the serene moment as the sunlight slowly faded.

The peace and quiet at Hunters Point, a rapidly gentrifying neighborhood in Long Island City, just one subway stop from midtown, may not continue much longer. Once known for its working-class and industrial identity, Hunters Point has become a new enclave for upscale condos. And in December, the neighborhood welcomed its first stand-up comedy club, part of a wave of change coming to this sleepy corner of Queens.

Steve Hofstetter, a comedian, opened the Laughing Devil on Vernon Boulevard, figuring that the area, which houses some of the most luxurious condos in Queens, is ripe for developing a night life. The Laughing Devil is the first stand-up comedy club to open in the area.

“The speed of growth is something that would excite any business owner, but what I like most is that residents really care about this neighborhood,” says Hofstetter, 32, a part owner. “People live here because they choose to, not because it’s a stop on the way to another neighborhood.”

Hofstetter, an experienced comedy entrepreneur, is part owner of two other comedy clubs, one in Atlanta and the other in Indianapolis. He also manages 24 stand-up comedians and has released 26 comedy albums under his record label, Next Round Records. In addition, Hofstetter is a producer of Atlanta’s three-year-old Laughing Skull Comedy Festival.

“Every new business venture is risky, but we feel our combination of Steve’s previous management experience in other clubs, my business acumen and our knowledge of the local community will get our business the edge it needs to survive and prosper,” says Jacob Morvay, 28, a partnership accounting manager at Cleary Gottlieb Steen & Hamilton, a New York law firm, and one of The Laughing Devil’s 11 investors.

Hunters Point, one subway stop from Manhattan, is attracting higher-income residents.

Hunters Point, one subway stop from Manhattan, is attracting higher-income residents.

The rapid redevelopment currently in progress at Hunters Point makes it an ideal venue for a new entertainment spot, according to Morvay, who says the average household in the area spends $4,600 a year on entertainment, with most of that going outside the neighborhood. “For an area undergoing such rapid change, there are very few entertainment options available,” he says. “So we felt it was a great opportunity to capture some of that revenue.”

Adrian Smilovici, 58, a real estate broker at Greiner-Maltz, a local real estate agency with branches on Long Island and in New Jersey, agrees that Hunters Point is an attractive new destination.

“It is very close to the city and it has something which Manhattan does not have: The view of Manhattan,” says Smilovici. “The whole place is moving. Everybody wants to build something.” Property values have increased 10-fold, he says.

Business has been good since the club opened, says Hofstetter, with the club selling out on weekends. The club charges a cover of $5 to $30, depending on the show and the night. College students (with an ID) can get in for $3 on Thursday nights; members of the armed forces can get in free on Sunday nights (also with an ID).

The club has a full-service bar—drinks range in price from $3 for non-alcoholic beverages to $8 for wine and $10-and-up for signature drinks. The club also serves food, with appetizers and entrees priced between $8 and $15.

The club, which occupies a long narrow space, has an intimate feel. Framed record albums of past comic icons decorate one exposed-brick wall; a small stage faces the entrance.

Although sometimes crowded, “the place is comfortable,” says Afra Hossain, 20, who attended the grand opening on Jan. 18. “I would definitely head back to The Laughing Devil and would also recommend the place to my friends and family as the comedians are great at making you laugh.”

Hofstetter is already thinking ahead. “When things grow, we’ll probably open another club elsewhere, and continue to do so as long as the market supports it,” he says. “We’re already talking about shooting a TV show at the club, and a documentary is being filmed about the process of opening the club. As for me, I will continue to perform – I have a film and a few TV shows in development. And most importantly, I’ll enjoy my wife, my dog, and wherever life takes me.”

Filed Under: Boroughs and Beyond, Communities, Culture Tagged With: ,

A Church Ministers to the Secular Needs of a Chinese Immigrant Community

February 14, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Story and photos by Jesse Lee

At the after-school program of the Chinese Evangel Mission Church on the Lower East Side, helping children with homework is a major priority.

At the after-school program of the Chinese Evangel Mission Church on the Lower East Side, helping children with homework is a major priority.

It’s 3 p.m. on a Tuesday on the Lower East Side, and as children get out of school, joyful laughter can be heard all around.  Some race to nearby parks. A few head home. Yet others take another route.

These children make their way to the Chinese Evangel Mission Church, on Madison Street.  The church, founded in 1944, has opened an after-school program that offers tutoring and English-language help. But this good deed strains the church’s resources and its volunteers.

The church, originally known as the Chinese Evangelistic Center, began an outreach ministry to New York City’s Chinese immigrant community in 2007. For adults, the center provides help with a range of personal and legal problems, including translation services for immigrants who need help dealing with governmental agencies, language instruction for learning basic English, as well as Bible classes. For teenagers, the center offers SAT preparation and a place to hang out and socialize.

And for younger children, the outreach program is a safe place to play after school and to get help with homework.

“We want the community to know that we are here, we are here to help, and we are here for them,” says the pastor, John Eng.  “Many of these families are low income and live in tenements or projects.  Crime has always been a problem around here and can you believe that the deli on the corner sells drugs? It’s right across from a school! We want people to know we are a safe haven from all of that.”

All these services require both work and funding.  The program has seven teachers who work in shifts; two are available on any given day.  The teachers are unpaid volunteers who do the work out of a passion for the community and their students.

Young Chinese immigrants get tutoring in English; older ones are offered SAT preparation, and there are games for everyone at the after-school program of the Chinese Evangel Mission Church on the Lower East Side.

Young Chinese immigrants get tutoring in English; older ones are offered SAT preparation, and there are games for everyone at the after-school program of the Chinese Evangel Mission Church on the Lower East Side.

Supplies and games, which are paid for by the church, cost several hundred dollars a year.

The after-school program averages 30 elementary schoolchildren and 10 high-school and college students a day – a lot for two teachers.   The students enter the church  around 3:10 p.m.; younger ones are brought by their parents, older ones come by themselves.  Smiles and giggles fill the room as the children recount the events and mishaps of their school day. They soon begin to take out their homework and books and get to work. The teachers go from table to table, helping where needed.

Jerry, an energetic first grader, comes up to a teacher and pulls on his sleeve, asking for help with his math homework.  Across the room, Derek calls for help with a word he doesn’t understand in his reading. The mess of books and paper scattered on tables slowly disappear as 5 o’clock rolls around.

For the younger children, the last hour of the program is devoted to play. The kids finish their work and take out games.  A girl named Nicole clutches the board game Candy Land and asks a teacher to play with her.  She is softly refused, as the teacher has too much homework to check.

“I’m not going to lie, it’s tough sometimes,” says Robert Hom, the head teacher. “I have my other job, I’m in grad school, and I have my family to care for, so there’s definitely a lot on my plate.  But as any teacher can tell you, that feeling of helping a child learn and achieve something is well worth the time and energy.”

At 6 p.m., the end of the after-school program, parents arrive to pick up their children.  All the parents are Chinese immigrants, and only a few speak English.

“I always had to take my kids around with me while I was shopping and running errands,” says Soo Yun, the mother of Zu Yee and Mun Yee, through another mother who translated.  “Then I heard of CEMC and how they were holding a free program, so I quickly signed these two up.  They like it here and I know they’re safe.”

As Soo Yun and her daughters make their way outside, Eng, who describes himself as “100 percent American-born,” stands near the entrance, chatting in Chinese with some parents.

“We are Christians here as well, so we take an interest in these kids’ lives,” says Eng. “We get to know their parents, their brothers and sisters, and even their personal lives. We are here to share God’s love and I’m just blessed to be a part of this program.”

Filed Under: Boroughs and Beyond, Communities, Culture Tagged With: ,

When the Hydrant Freezes, Firefighters Struggle

January 30, 2012 By Leave a Comment

By Rahinur Akther

Hydrant

Photo by Similoluwa Ojurongbe.

A hydrant rarely freezes, even in bitter winter cold, but when it does can leave firefighters without a sufficient water supply as they battle flames and try to rescue people inside a structure.Winter can be a challenging time for firefighters when it’s not as mild as the current one. In addition to often-bitter weather, fire hydrants occasionally freeze, leaving firefighters rushing to connect to alternative sources.

“A frozen hydrant makes us stop our work,” whether it’s clearing people from an occupied building or putting out a fire, said Brian Gibbs, a firefighter for 10 years and a ladder man at Firehouse 307154 on Northern Boulevard in Queens.

This firehouse is a busy one, responding to 380 calls a year. Most of these fires occur during the winter, caused by people attempting to stay warm with candles, wooden stoves and space heaters.

For the Fire Department of New York, September through December is the busiest four-month period. Department records show that in 2010, in Queens alone there were 4,785 fire situations requiring a response.

Firehouse 307154 has two trucks to handle a fire, an engine (sometimes called a pumper) with a water tank and hoses, and another with ladders and other equipment (the hook-and-ladder). Each engine tank holds 500 gallons of water – enough to spray on a fire for three minutes. Any other water used has to be pumped from nearby hydrants or another truck.

Fortunately, frozen hydrants are relatively rare, perhaps an average of 10 to 20 in each borough during a rough winter, says Austin Horan, a deputy chief and member of FDNY for 32 years who teaches courses on legal aspects of fire and emergency services at Rockland Community College in Rockland County.

Hydrants “are designed so they do not freeze,” Horan says. “When a hydrant is opened, a barrel that goes 10 feet into the ground fills with water. That is well below the frost line. When you close a hydrant, all the water in the barrel has to drain out through a hole in the bottom. Only if the drain valve is defective will a hydrant freeze. “All hydrants are inspected in the spring and fall; we check to see it is draining and it is reported for repair then. So very few hydrants freeze in the winter.”

Firefighters

A hydrant rarely freezes, even in bitter winter cold, but when it does can leave firefighters without a sufficient water supply as they battle flames and try to rescue people inside a structure.
Photo by Similoluwa Ojurongbe.

When the air temperature falls below 25 degrees for more then 24 hours, firefighters selectively test hydrants; though, with at least two to four hydrants on every block in the city, there are far too many to check each one. When frozen hydrants are found, they are marked out of service and put on a schedule to be defrosted.

The department has a thawing apparatus that uses high-pressure steam to clear the ice and place the hydrant back in service.
On the rare occasion when a hydrant does freeze, firefighters hook their hoses into the nearest hydrant, and at the same time issue a radio warning to all firefighters that water may be in short supply.

Joe Matz, who has been working at Firehouse 307154 since 2003, says that last winter firefighters responded to a fire in a six-story building two blocks from Elmhurst Hospital. The nearest hydrant was frozen, Matz says, and the 500 gallons of water from the engine’s tank was not sufficient to put out the flames.

Reinforcements were called, including an additional engine, and luckily, he says, no one was injured or died in the blaze.

When hydrants are found to be frozen, they are marked out of service and put on a schedule to be defrosted. A thawing apparatus uses high pressure steam to clear the ice and places the hydrant back in service.
“It takes a matter of 5 to 10 minutes,” Horan says. “The problem is that we have only one per borough,” a total of five in a city with many thousands of hydrants.

Filed Under: Boroughs and Beyond, Communities Tagged With: ,
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