Too much grit for the neighbors, by Nathan Weiser

David Trimble, who organizes the Red Hook Crit bicycle race.

The Red Hook waterfront has been a site of gritty industrial activity for over a century. The neighbors of one lot on Beard Street, however, have had enough.

“It seems like they have a lot of clients and tenants,” says David Trimble, who organizes the yearly Red Hook Crit bike race. “I would definitely like to see it cleaned up and controlled a little better.”

The lot is bordered by Beard, Van Dyke, Richards, and Dwight Streets and is owned by One Stop LLC, a company which rents warehouse and parking space.

School buses, charter buses, a trolley, and lots of garbage are visible from the street, as well as dogs in an enclosed area. Neighbors have noted concerns about the animals’ well being and the noise that they make as well as the the eyesore the space creates.

“The dogs make a lot of noise and it doesn’t sound like they are being taken good care of,” Trimble says. “I think the dogs are always there.”

The dogs

Trimble, whose office is across the street from the lot, thinks the condition of the site has been getting worse recently.

“The area would be nicer if they cleaned that area up a little bit,” Trimble said. “I think they just don’t control what goes on in there.”

According to a local artist who lives in the area, another major cause for concern is that there is no garbage pickup or dumpsters for the businesses in the lot. The result is that a lot of garbage, including full cans of oil, accumulates on the sidewalk. In addition, neighbors have observed workers relieving themselves on the sidewalk, leading to speculation that there are no bathroom facilities on site.

One local resident, who lives across the street, was informed that two men even live inside this space.

Additional complaints include gates of the lot being open 24 hours a day with the attendant noise of truck access, the uncovered state of the sandpit, and the sand bags not being labeled. Further, this neighbor is annoyed by trucks and bulldozers parked on the sidewalk and the street and the apparently continuous use of a forklift.

Another local characterized described the conditions in the lot as being like Mad Max.

 

Share:

Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn

Comments are closed.

READ OUR FULL PRINT EDITION

Our Sister Publication

a word from our sponsors!

Latest Media Guide!

Where to find the Star-Revue

Instagram

How many have visited our site?

wordpress hit counter

Social Media

Most Popular

On Key

Related Posts

Film: “Union” documents SI union organizers vs. Amazon, by Dante A. Ciampaglia

Our tech-dominated society is generous with its glimpses of dystopia. But there’s something especially chilling about the captive audience meetings in the documentary Union, which screened at the New York Film Festival and is currently playing at IFC Center. Chronicling the fight of the Amazon Labor Union (ALU), led by Chris Smalls, to organize the Amazon fulfillment warehouse in Staten

An ode to the bar at the edge of the world, review by Oscar Fock

It smells like harbor, I thought as I walked out to the end of the pier to which the barge now known as the Waterfront Museum was docked. Unmistakable were they, even for someone like me — maybe particularly for someone like me, who’s always lived far enough from the ocean to never get used to its sensory impressions, but

Quinn on Books: In Search of Lost Time

Review of “Countée Cullen’s Harlem Renaissance,” by Kevin Brown Review by Michael Quinn   “Yet do I marvel at this curious thing: / To make a poet black, and bid him sing!” – Countée Cullen, “Yet Do I Marvel” Come Thanksgiving, thoughts naturally turn to family and the communities that shape us. Kevin Brown’s “Countée Cullen’s Harlem Renaissance” is a

MUSIC: Wiggly Air, by Kurt Gottschalk

Mothers of reinvention. “It’s never too late to be what you might have been,” according to writer George Eliot, who spoke from experience. Born in the UK in 1819, Mary Ann Evans found her audience using the masculine pen name in order to avoid the scrutiny of the patriarchal literati. Reinvention, of style if not self, is in the air