On the Brooklyn side of the Marine Parkway Bridge, a tiny wild patch of woods can be seen from Flatbush Avenue.
Until recently, you could walk on a path through these woods to a hidden beach covered with garbage. Sounds gross! In fact, Dead Horse Bay, a.k.a. Glass Bottle Beach, is a unique trove of historical artifacts that have settled (and unsettled) among snails, blue crabs, whelks, razor clams, quahogs, and seaweed, embodying the daily life of New Yorkers circa 1952.
Like many places on the edges of New York City, Glass Bottle Beach lies atop a landfill, placed there to solidify and extend the natural coastline. Unlike most such landfills, this one was not properly capped, and its contents have been rising up from beneath the surface since the 1980s. A seemingly inexhaustible supply of bottles, shoes, china, stockings, floor tile, electrical sockets, toothbrushes, newspapers, and even intact light bulbs and motor vehicles make their way slowly from underground, down the beach, and into the sea. Mixed among them are pieces of horse bone from the factories of Barren Island.
These mundane objects tell the stories of the New Yorkers of seventy years ago—their tastes in food and beverages, their shoe styles, their predilection for chlorophyll toothpaste, and the dishes they ate off. In recent years, the discovery of radioactive materials from boat deck markers has forced the closure of the beach as it awaits a Superfund cleanup.
You can explore these artifacts in my photos below, and if you feel so moved, please read a letter I have written to the authorities in charge of the cleanup, explaining why it is so important that artifacts be preserved.