Fort Hamilton Triangle

Alexander Hamilton is much in the news these days. For one thing, at the same time as he's threatened with eviction from the $20 bill, he has a hit musical opening on Broadway. Meanwhile, his old home, Hamilton Grange, peacefully resides uptown in St. Nicholas Park.

Fort Hamilton Triangle, by contrast, is a petite plaza in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn between 94th and 95th Streets, where Fourth Avenue – because of one of the countless quirks of New York City's street-naming scheme and geography – meets Fifth Avenue.

The day I walked by, the gate was locked. Had it been open, I could have gone in and had a nice sit, I suppose, my feet kicking the bluestone. Years ago many sidewalks around the city were paved with this beautiful stone. But it's too expensive to replace, so when sidewalks need to be redone the bluestone is replaced by characterless concrete.

There was no sign of the gangs of pigeons whose presence resulted in a temporary, unofficial name change to "Pigeon Park."

But this isn't Vanishing New York, so let's take a look at what's actually here, which will come as no surprise to readers of this blog: It's a memorial to the men of Fort Hamilton "who died in the World War" and "those who answered their country's call."

The Great War, that is. The War to End All Wars.

Specifically, these are the names of the soldiers who trained at nearby Fort Hamilton and served during World War I. Fort Hamilton itself dates from the 1820s, and is still in active use, housing "over 200 Army Reserve and National Guard units" according to the Parks Department website. Entered into the National Register of Historic Places in 1974, it's also the only currently active military post in New York City.

The name "Fort Hamilton" designates the fort's surrounding neighborhood, too, though the area is also considered part of Bay Ridge. And speaking of the neighborhood, in case the memorial and the nearby military base don't inspire enough patriotism, take a walk by the stupendously flag-draped Engine 242 firehouse nearby. While you're there, notice the quirky, Coney Island-style signage on the storefronts, which contrasts with the banner hawking trendy "Craft Spirits & Cocktails" at the bar next door to the firehouse.

St. Nicholas Park and Hamilton Grange

St. Nicholas Park is notable for among other things its steep terrain, but since Alexander Hamilton's 210-year-old house moved in, there's more reason to visit. Though perhaps that's not entirely fair to the park, which does have its own society and website describing it as "[f]orged by nature in rugged masses of rock."

Those masses of good old New York City rock are on extravagant display in the park's north end:





St. Nicholas of Myra, patron saint of the original Dutch colony of New Amsterdam, gift-bringer, and inspiration for Santa Claus, lent his name to several streets in this part of Harlem as well as to the park. In an interesting twist for the Great Recession era, he's also the patron saint of pawnbrokers and repentant thieves, as well as – according to the Parks Department website – bankers.

If that's true, how appropriate that the house Alexander Hamilton built for his family in 1800-1802 has ended up here (after not one but two local moves). As President George Washington's Treasury Secretary, Hamilton established the system of national credit under which the U.S. has operated since the post-Revolutionary period.



The city originally acquired some of the land that's now St. Nicholas Park for the Croton Aqueduct. That land ended up part of a long 23-acre "ribbon park" that also features a dog run, a playground, sports facilities, and some Revolutionary War history. These photos are from the park's quiet north end.





The National Park Service moved, partially restored, re-opened to the public, and runs Hamilton Grange, giving tours of the house's interior. Among the period furnishings are some of Hamilton's own items. He and his family had a few happy years here at the beginning of the 19th century, before he was killed in the famous duel with Aaron Burr, across the river in New Jersey. This is Alexander Hamilton's desk.