2553 Sage Place ca. 1936 This Spuyten Duyvil store was approximately 100 years old, and from the 1850s to the early 1930s housed a barber shop. One of the daughters of barber Peter Tarantino turned the shop into a luncheonette called “Ye Olde Country Store,” but the store failed, a victim of the Depression. The store was closed when Abbott visited, but she was able to photograph the store’s exterior and interior. The exterior view, which Abbott discarded, shows the rural character of the neighborhood, which lacked paved roads and sidewalks. The interior view shows the store’s original beaded wooden sealing board and hand-planed oak floors. The potbelly stove, wall clock, and wire-back chairs date from the turn of the century. The light streaming in from the windows casts a warm glow, lending the illusion of stability and order to the scene. Sage Place no longer exists. In the 1960s, the area was cleared for apartment buildings and a high school.

Henry Hudson Monument, May 25, 1937. A monument without its honoree! Pictured here in 1937 this tall pedestal had been without a statue for two and a half decades. During the Hudson-Fulton Celebration of 1909 (commemorating the 300th anniversary of Hudson's arrival and the centennial of Fulton's steamboat) a plan was developed to honor Hudson with a memorial. Land was donated, funds were amassed, architects Babb, Cook and Welch designed a 100-foot-high Doric column, and sculptor Karl Bitter began to model his statue of Hudson. The column was erected in 1912 but the project stalled in 1915 with low funds and the death of Bitter. In 1935, Parks Commissioner Robert Moses revived the monument plans as part of his Henry Hudson Bridge and Park project. Karl H. Gruppe, one of Bitter's students, created the statue which was finally placed on top of the 25-year-old column and dedicated in January of 1938.

In the foreground of this 1906 photograph is Spuyten Duyvil Creek. The creek originally flowed around and to the north of the neighborhood known as Marble Hill. A narrow, somewhat meandering, but fast-flowing waterway, it was traversed by a few small bridges (such as the one seen here). The differences between high and low tide on this creek were so drastic that when low, one could wade through the creek, but when the water was at high tide a small ferry was needed to cross. Because the strait was so shallow it was not an appropriate shipping lane. The Harlem Shipping Canal was dug from a section of the creek in 1895 and as such Marble Hill was a temporary island sitting between the shipping canal to the south and the remaining section of the creek to the north. In 1914 the remaining creek was filled in, using rocks from the excavation of Grand Central Terminal. Since 1914 Marble Hill has been geographically attached to the Bronx while politically it remains part of Manhattan.

The Edgehill Church was founded in 1869 as a mission of the Riverdale Presbyterian Church, established to serve the religious needs of the workers at the nearby Johnson Iron Foundry. Despite the specific objective, the congregation of this chapel remained humble, given that most of the 300 foundry workers were Irish Catholics. Francis B. Kimball designed the 1889 structure seen here, which is a mix of Romanesque Revival, neo-Tudor, and Shingle styles, and has Tiffany windows. Appropriately named, as it sits on a steeply sloping hill, the full edifice is only visible from the south side of the building. From the main road on Independence Avenue, the chapel is largely obscured by the crest of the hill and dense foliage. Designated a landmark in 1980, the chapel (which severed ties with its founding church in 1917) was set to close in the late 1970s due to a declining population. Instead, a well-loved Bronx pastor (and for 16 years the official Bronx Borough Historian), Rev. Dr. William A. Tieck took over the parish and secured its survival.

Before Inwood and Washington Heights were densely populated and long before the Henry Hudson Bridge stretched across the Hudson, the Johnson Family built their ironworks in the Spuyten Duyvil. Having first worked upstate as part of another firm, Elias Johnson had made a fair amount of money creating munitions and provisions for the Mexican American War. Ready to strike out on his own, Johnson raised some capital and began building his factory in Spuyten Duyvil in 1853 with his son Isaac. Nor was Isaac a neophyte, he had graduated from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute that same year with a degree in Civil Engineering. It was Isaac Johnson who sited the mill, scouting locations throughout the city (including what is now Central Park.) Eying the peninsula jutting out from Spuyten Duvel, Johnson decided to put the foundry there with the land being shared by a rolling mill. The proximity to the railroads and New York's waterways made the plant quickly prosperous. Soon it was pushing out ironwork for all manner of commercial and home applications. The Johnsons soon were able to afford fancy homes, expensive lifestyles, and trips to exotic locales. However, their prosperity was only beginning. During the civil war, the Johnsons built prototypes of a cannon for the Union, guaranteeing their quality. Its success made the Johnson Foundry an important munitions supplier, a role the foundry would continue in through World War I. It would also branch out into steel production as well as automobile mechanics (dominating the automobile parts industry in its nascent stages.) As the prospects of the foundry grew so did the number of their employees, starting in the low hundreds to over sixteen hundred employees at the time of its closing. The Johnsons, a fairly religious family, were said to be fairly interested in the well being and health of their workers and built a number of reading rooms, chapels, and accommodations for their workers. The end would come, not from depression or disaster, but the New York Legislature. In 1919, it was decided that the ship canal would be straightened to make it more navigable. Peninsulas like the one that the Johnson Foundry were situated on were to be blasted away and dredged. It would take four more years, but the Johnson foundry would be closed and demolished.

Before Inwood and Washington Heights were densely populated and long before the Henry Hudson Bridge stretched across the Hudson, the Johnson Family built their ironworks in the Spuyten Duyvil.

On the neighborhood’s western edge, the eight-story John F. Kennedy High School building—now home to several smaller schools—similarly straddles the invisible Manhattan–Bronx dividing line.