The Whitestone Bridge in Queens New York is a double tower suspension bridge over the east river that connects the borough of Queens to the borough of the Bronx. It is for cars only as there is no pedestrian walkway. However, this did not stop Hank and Jay to attempt to cross the bridge by following the coast of the East River on foot to the bridge’s massive cement base where their walk would begin.

 

The small town of College Point Queens New York where Hank and Jay grew up was unique in its geography. Surrounded on three sides by water and having only four major roadways in and out of the town, it was a peninsula that stuck out into the East River, isolating the town from the larger borough of Queens.

 

 Once upon a time, College Point was the ferryboat stop to take cars and passengers from Queens a cross the river to the Bronx, and then on to Manhattan, before the Whitestone Bridge was built in 1939. As the town was almost completely surrounded by water, you did not have to walk far to get to the shoreline of the East River. One place that you could see the entire Bronx skyline directly across the water, with New York City on the left far in the distance, Rikers Island in the middle of the river, the LaGuardia Airport runway, and the Whitestone bridge way over on the right, was McNeil Park. Back in the 1960s the park was known as Chisholm’s Park. The park was at the end of the street where Hank and Jay lived, College Place.

 

Serving as the point of College Point, Chisholm’s Park jutted out into the East River, surrounded on one side by boat yards and on the other side, the barrel yard lot. The barrel yard was filled with triangular stacks of giant white cement tubular barrels that you could literally stand up in. The barrel yard was also known for the gang of hitters that dominated the neighborhood, known as the barrel boys. Further down the East River coast line you would come to another park known as Beehands Park, a part of Tallman Island. Tallman Island was a water treatment plant which recycled sewage and emptied processed water back into the East River. Beehands Park was smaller than Chisholm’s but many a summer barbecue picnic was spent there with Hank and Jay’s family. It was also famous for the bar that was directly across from the park entrance, Mell Miller’s, known as a favorite hangout by many of the local College Lanes bowling alley patrons. (The Tallman Island water treatment facility still exists today.)

 

It's here, where our story really begins. On a warm early summer’s day, Hank and his younger  brother Jay, went on an adventure navigating the coast of College Point. When I say navigating what I mean is exploring the shoreline around College Point on foot, walking through the shoreline swamps, vacant back lots, abandon beaches, and commercial boat yards, toward the posh town of Malba with the final destination, the Whitestone Bridge. When Hank and Jay made this journey, Jay was about 12-years old and Hank was 15. As Hank and Jay were to explore the coast there would be many areas that were private with no trespassing signs. Of course, that didn’t stop the two curious boys. As Jay remembered, the journey started at Tallman Island.  The park wrapped around the waste water facility like a shawl, thinning out on one side, leading to a sloping rock wall that went down to the river, with a nine foot tall chain-link barbwire fence dividing the water facility from the converging narrow path at the top of the rock wall. Walking all the way to the end of the path where the rock wall stopped along with the chain-link fence, there were several strands of vertical barbed wire connected to the end of the fence post that stood out and hovered over the water – 10 feet below. The trick was to hold onto the fence post and climb around the vertical barbed wire without getting yourself cut to pieces. Luckily, the width of the vertical barbed wire was only about a foot wide, and with a little doing, you could climb around and stand on the cement surface that was part of the wastewater facility foundation. Once on the property, Hank and Jay proceeded to walk over to a long cement dock that jutted out into the East River for about 100-feet then right angled into a wooden dock where boats could be moored. They sat there for a while until they were noticed by Tallman Island facility workers and escorted off the property by plant security.

 

From Tallman Island, Hank and Jay walked from the beginning of 127-street to the intersection of 9th avenue, turning left by PS164 annex. They walked 9th avenue until it ended at the bottom of the hill at 130th street. As they left the last of the paved streets and hopped the fence dividing the houses from the abandoned lots – leaving College Point, their journey became a day of unforgettable memories. At that time, the coast of College Point was a wild and rugged territory for about three and-a-half miles as it morphed into the next town of Malba, right by the Whitestone Bridge. Walking into the unknown, filled with tall weeds, swamps, marshland, piles of old tires, burned abandon cars, and of course, everyday garbage, their fear of rats and the creatures that inhabited the area was suppressed by the exploring excitement of the day. There were long pieces of wood from the nearby boatyards scattered over the landscape, and when it rained, huge puddles or small lakes could be sailed by rafts made from the salvaged wooden boat yard planks. There were mounds of black granular material that smelled like coffee grounds, but Jay was sure that’s not what they were. At one point the land became really saturated due to water from city street sewers, and although there were clumps of weeds that looked like firm ground, when Jay stepped upon it, he sank up to his knees as if it was quicksand. Still, they continued. Paralleling the East River on the left with Hayden’s woods and 14th avenue on the right, the coast of College Point became a dangerous playground for Hank and Jay’s continuing adventure.

 

As they got closer to the exclusive town of Malba, the coast line became parcels of private property, the backyards of upscale houses, and large-elegant mansions. Some of these yards had private docs but without fencing, Hank and Jay could climb through the yards without difficulty. In some cases the yards sloped down to privet beaches, and for others, tall rock cliffs that led up to the back yard boundary. Just like the coast of any river, there were jagged rocks and many variations between the landscape and the East River that defined the coastline of these upscale dwellings. Hank and Jay climbed over all of it without fear or question. Like explorers discovering a new world, the thrill of the exploration was everything. At one point they came upon stairs that led up to a cement block foundation, and down to a makeshift dock where a homemade raft was moored. Climbing up to the cement block foundation, they found a small dark-enclosed cinderblock structure that produced a wonderful echo that they yelled and uttered the word “hello.” They then turned around and walked down the stairs to the makeshift dock where the homemade raft was tied up. They thought this was their chance to sail the coast of the river. Untying the raft and pushing off into the water unconcerned that the raft really could not support the weight of both of them, Jay heard a distant cry from above coming from a young male voice, “Quit the clowning around.” Obviously, this was the owner of the raft. Hank and Jay sheepishly put back the raft and moved on to the next yard. Eventually they came to a large stretch of open street beach that again had driftwood, large rocks, and other river debris. From there, Hank and Jay could see the Whitestone bridge toward the right, and behind them, Melba Drive, the road that stretched and skirted the town. Walking up the beach to the road, they paused by a huge wooden beam. Their desire to travel the East River by raft, continued to motivate Hank and Jay to push the huge beam down the beach and into the water. However, no matter how they tried or what they did, the wooden beam would not budge. From that point, they no longer could follow the coast. The sandy beach abruptly ended, and all that was left were tall rock wall cliff formations leading up to the homes and down to the river. They were now very close to the start of the Whitestone Bridge and at this point Hank and Jay decided to walk the streets of Melba, and take the bridge’s underpass over to the Whitestone town side of the bridge.

 

As Hank and Jay walked through the underpass, on their left side was Francis Lewis Park, and on their right side was the cement ramp leading up to the bridge’s suspension cables. Again, as there were no fences and only a shoulder of grass and trees that led up to the very beginning of the approach to the Whitestone Bridge, Hank and Jay could simply walk next to the rising concrete structure and come to where the approach wall began. Off to the side and ahead of the ramp was the last exit before committing yourself as a driver to go over the bridge. It was here where Hank and Jay started to walk the concrete wall bridge approach. To be clear, there was no walkway. However, there was a narrow, slightly angled down concrete ledge, about eight inches wide where you could put your feet side-by-side with your toes against the wall while extending your arms and hands across the top of the cement, grabbing hold onto the other side of the wall. Hank and Jay stood next to each other, stepping inch-by-inch, slowly moving up the sloping ramp approach to the bridge towards where the steel superstructure began. At first, they thought they were cool. Then Hank and Jay realized they had climbed above the top of the adjacent tree line, about 25-feet up in the air with only a narrow cement ledge to stand on with their arms hanging over the cement wall. Finally, their mortal fear kicked in, and the fright of being up so high caused them to stop, and very slowly inch their way back down to the start of the ramp. When Hank and Jay got off of the cement wall, they looked back at the place they stopped climbing. Although Jay could not recall saying it out loud, Jay believed they both thought how crazy, stupid, and dangerous the ledge walking of the Whitestone Bridge was. By this time it was early evening and with a very long walk back to home, the day of fun and exploration ended with a straight conventional walk from the town Whitestone, back to the town of College Point via 14th Ave.

 

Today, the place Hank and Jay started their walk is now known as Powéll’s Cove Park. Much of the area is home to the College Point Yacht Club. The barrel yard is now a small community of attached houses that ends where the yacht club property begins. The boat yard, on the other side of McNeal’s Parke, is now called Bay Park Estates, once known as Arco Field. Over the past 55-years since Hank and Jay’s walk to the Whitestone Bridge, College Point has gone through much urban development. Incomplete streets that once ended off of 14th avenue towards 20th avenue, now connect these two major roadways. Mill Creek, by what was Speed’s Air Port, continues to be a large backlot swampy area and cannot be use for commercial building development. Someday, perhaps two young boys from the neighborhood may go on that Mill Creek exploration and discover a whole new exciting world beyond the houses and streets of College Point. But that’s another story.