Viola Van Nostrand Woodruff House, 1927. In 1913 a number of events in Viola Woodruff's life conspired to push her into a new direction. Both her husband and father had died earlier that year. She and her mother were left with a large house in Flushing to maintain themselves. And, while visiting a friend, Viola met a woman who as making money selling salted peanuts in Vermont. Learning all she could, she started her own business in the kitchen of her home. By 1920 Woodruff (who is listed in some places as Wood) had two factories, earned $200,000 (gross), and had added other salted nuts and meats to her roster. A 1921 article in The Peanut Promoter (billed as "the most unique publication in the world"), told Woodruff's story, though at various points she notes that she would easily give it all up. She stated that her time might be better used in "service to herself and the community, as well as in social service work." She was still in business in 1928 when she was once again written up, this time in the "National Nuts News." It is unclear whether the popular business survived until her death in 1953. The large house at the northwest corner of Northern Boulevard and 147th is long gone.

Weeping Beech Tree, undated photo. Unbeknownst to the throngs of present day Flushing denizens, the town of Flushing was once the "cradle of America's horticultural business." The Linnaean Botanic Garden and Nursery was founded in 1737 by Robert Prince and provided maple trees to Jefferson's Monticello, among other influential customers. In the late 1830s, Samuel Parsons, a local Quaker, established his own nursery business, which would go on to provide the original trees and shrubs for both Central Park and Prospect Park. His business became America's most celebrated commercial nursery. Parsons was a pioneering horticulturalist who introduced a number of plant species to North America. In 1847 he returned from a trip to Belgium with a four-inch-tall cutting of a weeping beach tree. He planted it near the John Bowne House (his wife was a Bowne descendant) and it grew... and grew. By the middle of the 20th century the tree was massive: 60-feet-tall, with a 14-foot trunk, and an 85-foot-wide umbrella of branches. This tree was considered the mother of all other weeping beech trees in the United States. In 1966 the tree was designated a living landmark, along with the 1885-planted magnolia grandiflora on Lafayette Avenue in Bedford-Stuyvesant. Despite more than a century of hardy growth, the weeping beech began to deteriorate in the 1970s. Even with serious efforts, including fertilizer injections and cables to keep it standing, the tree was pronounced dead in 1998. Following a brief funeral, the landmark tree was chopped down from its spot behind Kingsland Homestead, the home to the Queens Historical Society. A considerable stump and a number of weeping beech offspring remain. The younger beech trees have thrived since the loss of their progenitor, growing to considerable height themselves.

Kingsland Homestead ARCHITECT: Unknown DATE: 1774 STYLE: Dutch Colonial This is Flushing’s only remaining 18th Century dwelling, and its second oldest house. The Kingsland Homestead is a wooden two-story building with a basement and an attic, and represents the country’s Dutch Colonial Style of architecture, and the typical house of Revolutionary War period.

Not all New York City landmarks are made of stone or steel or glass. Here is a list of some of the city's famous topiary, both long gone and still standing. Much like buildings, these trees 🌳 🌳 dominated streetscapes, provided community gathering places, and witnessed history.

Weeping Beech Weeping Beech tree. The tree stood in the Kingsland Homestead until 1998.