Stratton Park Message Board

4/15/09 Pigeon Coops.
Recently the New York Times had a story about the disbanding the use of pigeons for communications tools, especially in war zones. This reminding me about my experiences in” flying pigeons” in the Bronx in the 1950’s. More importantly, it is also a story of two interesting
and nice friends I made in my youth: Kenny Nester and Pat Ferracano.
We started building pigeon coops in the Taylor Ave lots.
Kenny, with mostly with the help of Pat could build anything, at least what I thought, and I would help them sometimes. I don’t remember how they got the tools and materials and who showed them how to build things. I think that is being part of being Italian; I think Italians have in their genes the ability to build things, along their affinity for good food (thank God because many if not most of the Irish were lacking these genes). However, my sister, as she got older, could make a good sauce and meat balls and spaghetti. And I know some my irish friends would conveniently show at diner time of a Italian frined. and of course they were never refused. And what if we did not have Vinnie's in our youth!
Unfortunately, as quick we could build coops on Taylor someone burned or tore them down. Afterwards they started to build coops on the lots on upper Beach next to Chinese laundry. Since one could not seeing it form the street we were able it keep going. Gene Carney’ farther (name from past) father help us out by keeping a lookout for us, as he had shift work on police dept.
I don’t recall how/where we got the pigeons but that was not important. There were a lot of coops in the Van Ness area and quite a few in the area below Westchester Ave.
We had all types of pigeons: flights, baldies, tiplets (?), tumblers, etc., but not homers.
Remember the movie “ON the Waterfront” with Marlon Brando, and the coops he had in the movie. ”I coulda been somebody…”
It took a fair amount of skill and a lot of work to grow a large coop with cleaning and keeping the birds disease free which was not easy. Then you had to keep them healthy with ample food and protected from elements, natural predators like hawks, cats, and rats and human predators. I am sure that you did believe the myth that Tow Sun used pigeons in their Chow Mien. But then, could that what happened some of the birds were stolen from us.
As a youngster one learned the “barnyard” things about procreation.
It was unbelievable how hawks could decimate a flock. When the flock was flying one could be sure you would see a hawk frequently. The pigeons would be petrified and start flying faster and went higher to the “pins” to avoid the hawks diving on them. Many times they went so high that we would lose them and land on another coop.
You may saw articles in the newspapers about hawks having nests on high building in the city and going after the pigeons and squirrels. Recently, I saw some in Central Park when visiting a friend (Steve Ressler, another name from past).

Oh well, for most of us this is trivia. How many kids flew pigeons? However, as I said before, this was a story about friends in the “old neighborhood. We were also doing something interesting.

Les - a great story. I do remember the lot across from 1574 Beach with the pigeon coop. Although I think for many of the boys it was a place to sneak off and smoke cigarettes and drink forbidden beers.

Recently a friend put a bird feeder outside her apartment window in Manhattan (hoping to attract doves). Well a pigeon was at the feeder and before you know it - a hawk attacked. All that was left of the pigeon were a few feathers and a couple of drops of blood. Its a jungle out there.

Hope all is well with you. Patty

Poor pigeons! Obviously on the bottom of the bird food chain. These days, pigeon coops are not encouraged around here and there is all kinds of uproar when someone attempts to put one on their roof.

Patty and Marion
I goot a good laugh about your replies.
Yes there is a jungle oot there.
We would save our money and buy some pigeons ut then a big hawk would sloope down and knock off a bunch ao our flock.
Well it was always it was interesting.
Weel more important who remembers Kenny and Pat and and the great gifts of our Italian friends..
All the best .
Les or more at toimes.

Hey Les good topic ...

I was involved with a few pigeon coops and we would go over to a guy on Van Nest Avenue who had the coolest name for a person who dealt in the sales of pigeons "Bunty"...

We would purchase a few birds from Bunty and after waiting what we thought was an appropriate time we'd let our birds loose thinking that they were "homed"...we hoped they would return to their "home coop", which usually consisted of a few wooden milk crates nailed together and supplied with some pigeon feed and water ... invariably once we let them fly we would never see them again...<:~(

Looking back I've come to the conclusion they were "homed" all right, but their home was Bunty's house...<:~)

JohnT

John
Yeah. We bought quite a a few pieons from guys like Bunty. who were the pigeons?
Les

Les...from what I remember we had Tiplets and Baldies and a few others whose names I'm sure I'd recognize if I heard them again...<:~)

JohnT

Folks,

I must admit I was one of the guys who built the coops on the lot across from 1574 Beach, and the one next to the abandoned bridge over the New Haven RR on the Van Nest side, during the late sixties. Although both were real live big pigeon coops, the coops of course were only cammoflauge for the clubhouses below, which were constructed as secure as bank vaults on the outside, and as plush as after-hour clubs on the inside. They were constructed in a very unorthodox and secretive fashion, always with security in mind. Even their locations were deliberate. Since these "clubhouses" were owned by teenagers, more often than not they had rotating neighborhood members living in them for most of the time...someone who had gotten thrown out of their house or had left home for one reason or another. There was also a "sister" clubhouse/coop in the Olmstead Ave. neighborhood. Theirs actually pre-dated ours, and the more sophisticated fortress-building skills we learned largely from them. They were heated by commercial pot belly stoves and had complex exhaust stacks above them that existed the structure in complex ways that could not be extinguished by throwing water down a stove pipe or through other obvious means. Construction materials were pilfered (spelling?) from E.J. Korvettes and other building sites as needed. Necessity was the mother of invention, after all. Both neighborhood sites were selected for hilltop locations partially to protect them from prying eyes, and partially to protect them from bulldozer destruction. But I guess even the best boyhood plans are bound to miss something. When we thought of security, we thought about protection from unwanted entry, or invasion. The police eventually just waited for each of the clubhouses to be unoccupied at a given time, and then rather than try to invade someway, they just doused them with gasoline and burned them to the ground letting them take their secrets to a fiery grave. They also broke our hearts in the process.

Eddie