Every time I step out of my Greenpoint apartment for a run it begins the same way—a 5-minute stroll through McGolrick Park. This park is quietly understated in the neighborhood, off the beaten path, away from the North Brooklyn fray, a gem to residents nearby. After skipping through its walkways again this morning I decided to slow down and take in some of its details.
Each far corner of the rectangular park offers a diagonal path to the center, lined with street lamps that glow orange at night. The pathways organize the shape of grassy areas and trees beyond the benches. I’ve inadvertently gotten a mean sunburn by sitting and reading a book in those grassy areas; you can lose track of time in its calm atmosphere. This is not your chaotic McCarren Park overflowing on a sunny day.
Enter by the opening on Driggs Ave, and one finds a good sized dog park—bigger than those in McCarren. On this past Sunday there were at least 10 dogs chasing each other around; their escorts, my unknown neighbors, standing around and mingling. I imagine this is where hot dates are scored while attractive people strike up conversations about dog breeds.
Walk straight down the bench-lined walkway to the center of the Park and there stands a statue of St Michael to greet you. He doesn’t actually say hello, no, but who says a park in Greenpoint can’t be poetic? The inscription on the statue begins “To the living and dead heroes of Greenpoint who fought in the World War because they loved America…,” and continues on to pay homage to their fight for our country. With that, the statue is no longer a statue at all, but a winged victory War Memorial.
Arcing around the memorial is a columned structure called the Shelter Pavilion constructed in 1910. According to the NYC Parks and Recreation Department, the two buildings at either end of the columns originally served as “comfort stations,” for men and women. It’s also a registered landmark of the City of New York.
Just beyond the pavillion towards Nassau St begins the McGolrick playground. Monkeybars are painted red and yellow with children tangled and running in between. There’s a swing-set which only has children’s bucket seats—the kind that requires a child being picked up and plopped into it, with a leg pushed through holes on either side. This is possibly the park’s way of keeping hipsters from living out their romantic swing scenes. Five-year-olds are the stars here.
On any given day there are families strolling through the park, and old men sitting on its benches reading Polish newspapers and enjoying the quiet around them. I once noticed in the springtime that I ran past the same man at 6am sitting on a bench reading a very, very thick book for two weeks straight. It seems McGolrick Park still can preserve the pace of a bygone era even while new residents from all over have been overwhelmingly its perimeter.
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