#duane street lodging house

[make-friends-with-the-rats]

In December of 1899, the halls of 9 Duane Street Lodging House echoed with the voices of newsies. This was the 30th annual holiday feast held for the newsboys and their guests. Kid Blink, among others, gave toasts and speeches, including one entitled "The Strike, When We Licked", no doubt celebrating their successful strike from the summer. The newsies were served a generous feast of turkey, boiled ham, celery, mashed potatoes, turnips, tea, bread and butter, and -- the newsies favorite -- pies.

[sources: 1, 2, 3, 4]

This year, to celebrate the 155th anniversary of the first annual Duane Street holiday feast, I have put together a list of prompts for the first annual Duane Street December. Happy Holidays!

tag: #duane street december

(transcribed list under the cut)

---

NEWSIES Duane Street December

First Snow

Favorite Character

Irving Hall/Medda's Theatre

Holiday Decorations

Family

Kid Blink

Mittens

Boots Arbus

Marbles

Best Friends

Cold Feet

Our Man Denton

Little Newsies

Snowman

Traditions

The Jacobs Family

Warmth

Something Unexpected

Snowball Fight

Jack Kelly

Little Brother

Bad Luck

Dreidel

Patrick's Mother

Turkey and Pie/The Duane Street Dinner

Gift Giving

Improvin' The Truth

Candlelight

Kloppman

Mistletoe

New Years Eve, 1899

[racetrackmybeloved]

thinking about how much pain crutchy must be in

like. his crutch is clearly too short for him. did he get it before hitting his growth spurt and now can't afford a taller one? is he waiting until he grows even more so that he doesn't have to keep on buying new ones? bending over sideways like that constantly must hurt him SO much.

and combine that with carrying stacks of papers all day? the other kids can transfer their papers to their other arm when they start to get tired, but he can't.

someone give crutchy a back massage please and thank you

sidenote: i wrote 'someone get that boy an ibuprofen' as a stupid tag and then thought hm did ibuprofen exist yet and no it did not (until the 1960s)! paracetemol didn't appear commercially in the US until 1950. production of aspirin started in 1899, and it was advertised and distributed to doctors and hospitals at this point, but was not available to the public without a prescription until 1915.

HOWEVER newsboys did sometimes go to hospitals - in 1897 a newsboy named john kelly staying at the duane st lodging house had a sore throat, and the superintendent sent him to the hudson street hospital. and in 1900, after a fight between two newsboys led to one of them stabbing the other in the neck, the injured boy was sent to the hospital (he was apparently fine). that was a very long winded way of saying that it IS feasible for crutchy to have gone to a doctor and gotten a prescription.

so yeah maybe our boy crutchy was actually taking aspirin !

sources woo

[bumlets-appreciation-blog]

Duane Street December Day Six: Kid Blink

David wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the image in front of him. Kid Blink always seemed so vibrant and larger-than-life: loud, passionate, and boundlessly confident, he was the epitome of the dime-novel pirate heroes that his friend loved so much. Yet here he was, lying belly-down in a snowy alleyway with his head shoved under a broken wagon. The image would’ve been hilarious if it wasn’t so confusing.

“Are you alright, Blink?” At the sound of David’s voice, Blink jumped and cracked his head against the wagon. Swearing louder than David had ever heard him, Blink shimmied himself out from under the wagon and whipped around to fix him with a vicious glare. If he didn’t know and trust him so much, David probably would’ve quailed under the force of it.

“Dammit, Dave! Why’d ya hafta go and holler like that? I woulda had her if you hadn’t come and scared us both!” Despite the anger in his voice, Blink was barely speaking above a whisper and he wasn’t waving his arms around like he normally did when he was mad, instead keeping them stiff at his side. He was a strange sight and David couldn’t help cocking his head in confusion.

“Her? Her who? Don’t tell me there’s a kid under there.” Like Blink, David kept his voice low, not wanting to startle whoever or whatever was under the wagon. His inquiry was met with a dramatic eye roll.

“No, there’s not a kid under there! It’s a kitten. Here, look.” With slow, careful movements, Blink dropped back down to the ground and gestured for David to do the same. There, under the wagon, was a coal-black kitten with enormous blue-green eyes. When she saw that she had an audience, she let out a pitiful mewl and retreated further back against the wall. It was probably one of the most heartbreaking things David had ever seen.

“I found her here a few weeks ago. I’ve been feeding her, tryin�� ta get her to trust me, but it’s been pretty slow,” Blink explained as he reached his hand back under the wagon to offer the kitten his hand. Instead of sniffing them, she cowered even further and let out another pathetic cry, making Blink groan.

“Why are you trying so hard to get her?” David questioned. As kind as he knew his friend could be, a few weeks’ worth of effort to catch a kitten that clearly didn’t want to be caught was a lot. To his surprise, Blink flushed a bit at the question.

“Mush loves cats. Other boys had dogs at the lodging house so he couldn’t have one, but since they all moved out, I thought she’d make a nice Christmas present,” Blink said, his voice fond. That made sense. Blink was definitely a tough guy but he loved his friends, especially Mush. The kid was one of the few people he could see his friend going to all this trouble for.

David weighed his options. His mother preferred it when he got home before it got dark, but he didn’t think she’d fault him for staying out a little later to help Blink. Besides, he reasoned, the kitten didn’t look like she’d last much longer in this weather.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” he said before working his way out from under the wagon and heading out across the street to Tibby’s. After explaining the situation to Mr. Tibby, David walked away with a discount sausage cut into kitten-sized chunks. 

With plenty of sausage chunks and gentle encouragement, he and Blink managed to coax her close enough to grab, and soon they were making their way toward the lodging house. Kloppman barely glanced at them when they walked in but did a double-take when he saw the little black ball of fluff in Blink’s arms.

“We gettin’ a new lodger, Kid?” he asked, trying and failing to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“Yeah, Mouth and I figured that a mug like hers could peddle a thousand a week. Do ya think Mush’ll like her?” As he talked, Blink adjusted his hold on the kitten to give Kloppman a better look. 

The older man made his way out from behind the registration desk to run his fingers over her head. Despite her reservations about the boys, she seemed to like Kloppman and started purring when he scratched behind her ears.

“I think we shoulda called you ‘Mush’ instead of him since you’re so soft-hearted.” Kloppman laughed a bit but softened when he looked up at the two boys. “He’ll love her. You know he will. Now hang on a minute.”

Kloppman ducked back behind his desk and headed into the office. When he came back, he was holding a little red ribbon and carefully tied a bow around the kitten’s neck.

“There,” he said, satisfied. “Now she looks like a present. He’s upstairs if you wanna give her to ‘im now. Don’t think you’ll be able to hide her till Christmas.” Kloppman gave the kitten one more scratch under her chin before moving to sit back down with a smile on his face.

“Thanks, Kloppman. C’mon, Dave. This is from you, too.” Blink didn’t bound up the stairs like he normally did, but he still had a bit of a skip in his step. They tramped up the stairs and made their way to the dorm.

Mush was sitting on one of the lower bunks, deep in conversation with a few other boys. When Blink called his name, he perked up and started making his way over to them, though he stopped when he saw the kitten. His mouth dropped open in a way that was almost comical, but the joy in his eyes was nothing to laugh at.

“Where’d ya find her?” Mush’s voice was barely more than a whisper, reverent as he looked at the kitten in his best friend’s arms. He’d always been gentle despite his size, but David couldn’t remember a time when his friend looked so soft. The other boys Mush had been with, Swifty, Snoddy, and Bumlets, had gathered around the trio, grinning at the scene in front of them. It seemed that Mush’s love for cats was common knowledge among the lodging house residents.

“You know that alley next to Tibby’s? I found her there a while ago and thought you’d get along. It took Dave feeding her, but we finally managed to grab her. She’s still kinda skinny and she needs a bath, but she’s healthy and she already likes Kloppman, so I think she’ll fit in just fine. Do ya wanna hold her?” As Blink spoke, he already started to hand the little kitten over to his friend, grinning at how Mush managed to light up even more once she was secure in his arms.

“She’s so soft! Look, Bumlets, she has hair like yours!” Bumlets rolled his eyes a bit at the comparison, but he was smiling too much for anyone to think he was genuinely offended.

“Sure Mush. Whatever you say,” he said softly, one of his hands coming up to pat the other boy on the shoulder. Snoddy and Swifty were grinning, too, and when he saw David watching their reactions, Swifty shot him two thumbs up over Snoddy’s shoulder. And Blink, of course, looked ridiculously proud of himself as he watched his best friend cradle his lifelong wish.

The kitten, it seemed, had adjusted pretty well to the attention, moving her head so she was tucked under Mush’s chin and purring loud enough for all to hear. David’s cheeks were starting to hurt from all his smiling, but he couldn’t help it. The last time he was Mush this happy was when they saw Jack riding up on Roosevelt’s carriage instead of heading to Santa Fe.

“What’s her name?” David asked, if only to give his mouth a rest from his smile. Mush looked down at the kitten again with a contemplative expression that quickly changed to a determined one.

“Shadow. She looks like a Shadow, don’t she?” When the other boys nodded, Mush grinned impossibly wider before settling his eyes on Blink and David with a hopeful expression. “Is she really mine, guys? Do I really get to keep her?”

“Course you do, Mush. I can’t think of anyone better to take care of her.” Blink was good at that, saying things with so much authority that no one could think to argue with him. At his friend’s reassurance, Mush quickly turned to hand off Shadow to a startled Snoddy before dragging Blink and David into a hug.

“Thanks, guys. You’re the best.” Pulling back with an ever-radiant smile, Mush turned to take Shadow back from Snoddy, cooing at the kitten when she nuzzled back into his chest. The other three boys circled Shadow and Mush, taking turns petting her and saying sweet things but Blink pulled David aside and wrapped him in a hug of their own.

“Thanks, Dave,” he whispered before pulling back to spit in his palm and offer it for a handshake.

“Anytime, pal,” David answered before spitting in his own palm and clasping Blink’s hand with his own. “Anytime.”

[chaosfairy18]

Bumlets thoughts! The boy was spinning today and my friend told me I should share my thoughts so here we go :) So, Bumlets, one of the background newsies of the 92 movies that was cast for his dancing talent (did you know Dominic Lucero was a background dancer for Michael Jackson, Paul Abdual and Madonna?) and doesn't get to say much, but he for sure has fabulous hair.

He is also named after an actual resident in the Duane Street Lodging house around the time of the strike (there is an entire article I once found on Tumblr and when I find it again I'll try to reblog it) and there it is mentioned he kind of speaks for the other newsies there and is called "The King of the Bums" which is very cool to me I do remember that article being a bit before 1899 so I had some thoughts... What if before Jack came along and became leader not just inside the lodging house but outside to the other boroughs, Bumlets was the one to speak for the matters of the newsies in the lodge, specifically for Kloppman. In turn Kloppman trusts him with locking up the lodge sometimes (I saw that in the fic: "Inside the Lodging House: Hard Truths and Annoying sounds" today and loved it) and if there is a problem with one of the boys he asks if he could talk to him first (as most don't react well to adults as it is). At some point Francis Sullivan, newly named Jack Kelly comes along and is more outwardly a leader, kind of more agressively a leader where Bumlets was usually quiet, polite and not particularly ambitious, he just wanted to help if he could and if someone else wants to be the actual leader he is fine with that too.

Another thing is he has leather suspenders (which you can see in Seize the Day reprise as he is right in the front) which for me means he is putting thought into his appearance and also into buying durable things (here we have a saying roughly translating to "better buy something good than buy twice", so saying you should rather buy expensive long-living things sometimes) even if he's not wearing the fanciest clothes apart from it they still seem well maintained and that just is something you notice. The buyers probably do that too.

Can't forget his boyfriends either (that here is just who I think he would be cute with) which would be Skittery and Swifty <3 He and Skittery stickfight in Carrying the Banner (which looks so fun), then they stand next to each other at the Rally and for Swifty in the scene where Snyder is looking for Jack in the lodge they are always beside each other and there are probably more scenes but those are just the ones coming to mind and me and my friend have been going feral over them. But I think that's better for another post eventually, just wanted to add it!

Another fun fact: Dominic Lucero was in fact the same age as Max Casella and therefore also 25 in 1992. Live with that knowledge folks.

Thanks for reading this!

[daveysjackie]

What if there's a reason for Medda's maternal behaviour to Jack?

What if years ago, when she was simply another one of the Bowery Beauties, long ago, she was swept off her feet by one of the patrons? He would be at almost every show and it didnt take long for a young Medda to be ready to give up everything to be with him.

What if she discovers she's pregnant? She is overjoyed at that but when she tells her lover, he makes an excuse, leaves and is never seen again.

What if Medda was determined to raise her child, social stigmas be damned? She has savings left by her last family member who passed away a few years back and she uses it to buy the mortgage to Irving Hall. One of her fellow Beauties gives her an old crib her family no longer uses. The others make baby clothes in their spare time.

What if Medda goes into labour far too early and when her baby is born, she already knows they're not destined to be together long? Yet she cherishes the week she miraculously gets with her baby boy, committing everything about him to memory and having a little portrait of him made.

What if Medda, a week after giving birth, is burying her baby boy? She has a mortgage she can just barely afford, clothes and crib that will never be used, has to pay for the sudden funeral. Yet all she can bare to think about is that this isn't fair and her Jack should be in her warm arms and not in a cold coffin.

What if Medda suffers with extreme depression for weeks? She can barely even leave her room, let alone ensure that Irving Hall continues to put on performances. The Beauties help where they can but it's getting difficult.

What if Medda is eventually encouraged to just take a quick walk, just to give her a change in surroundings and as she's on the walk, she meets a man by the name of Francis Sullivan? They bump into each other and he insists on buying her a pastry from the bakery to make up for it. And he was going to the bakery anyway because he wants to surprise his wife. So they walk and talk. She learns that he and his wife have recently moved to New York. That eventually they want to settle out west. And she divulges, vaguely, the pain that has plagued her and he tells her that tonight, over dinner, he and his wife would pray for her son and for her. She invites him and his wife to one day visit Irving Hall before they go their seperate ways. They never meet again but she never forgets his kindness.

What if one day, years later, there's a frantic knocking at the back door of the hall? When she opens the door, there stands a skinny little boy of 7, fiddling with the cross necklace he wore and she nearly cries because he looks just like her Jack that she buried so long ago. He hands her a note, from Francis Sullivan Sr, that explains that his wife died a year ago and that he will be sent to prison for something he has done. It begs her to take care of his boy because he has no one else left.

What if Medda takes him in? She doesn't have much space in her room so at first, she gets him to sleep on the small couch, an old prop no longer in use in the Hall. And in the middle of the night, she hears little footsteps cross the room. Little Francis climbs into her bed without a word and falls asleep right there, in her arms.

What if Medda can't take it? He looks so much like her Jack and her heart hurts and in a way she feels she's betraying her baby. So after a week, she tells Francis of the Duane Street Lodging House: how there will be loads of boys there he can make friends with, he can hawk papers with them to make money. And yet, even as she drops him off outside the lodging house, the note from her friend niggles in her mind and she tells him to come visit next weekend.

What if that's how their bond forms? He visits almost every weekend, sometimes bringing a friend, most of the time by himself. Until he disappears. At first, Medda thinks perhaps it slipped his mind or he just didn't feel like it. Weeks turn into months and Medda is half convinced that the innocent little boy has died, all because she couldn't put her heart aside to care for him.

What if he returns suddenly, looking very haunted? He tells her of his time in The Refuge and how terrible it was and how the warden Snyder said he would be listening out for any news about Francis to lock him up again. And he tells her his intention to change his name so he'd be more difficult to follow.

What if Medda is the one who suggests Jack and his eyes just light up and it fits him so perfectly that she can't help but wonder if he is, in some way, her baby boy? He takes the name Kelly from an article in that day's paper and thus Jack Kelly is born.

What if Medda watches him grow into the young, brave, dreamer, leader he becomes? He ends up in the Refuge again but escapes with the indirect help of the Governor, a story she loves to hear him talk about because he has a natural gift for tales.

What if after the strike, after almost losing her second Jack, she tells him about his namesake? And he and Medda visit the baby's grave together. And while she still grieves for that baby she lost far too soon, she realises that, through Jack Kelly, she was given another chance to be a mother.

What if.

[bowling-alleycarpet]

Hey, I'm a huge fan of thinking of Crutchie as Jewish. But do you have a citation for the historical Crutch Morris being Jewish. Or are you basing this on Marty Belafsky?

Based on history! We don’t have one exacting citation, but a common hypothesis based on the pieces of citable information we do have.

The most conclusive simply being the fact that the overwhelming majority of people named Morris, a very Jewish name originating from Moshe, are themselves; especially given the time and place in history, when 40% of newsies who answered the 1901 NYC census were Jewish and there weren’t abundant legal or marital ways for a man’s name to be changed in the usa like there are today. Could this have been a false name like Jack Kelly or Blink? Of course, (though I doubt he would have recorded a false name when he was an elected official of the newsboy union) so, as with all other information, this has to be taken with a grain of salt.

We also have one photograph that is commonly associated to be Crutch Morris that many past historians have made the presumption from:

[im going to edit this to add the picture give me a few minutes sorry]

This photo is commonly MIS-ASSOCIATED with Louis Hines’ work documenting New York’s working children in the 1930s. THIS IS INCORRECT. It appears nowhere in his published work. So much as a reverse image search tells us this is actually an undated photograph from the New York Historical Society Archive. @newsieshistory (their presence here is greatly missed) was able to match up the windows in the background to those on the Duane Street Newsboy Lodging House (the actual lodge house the one in the film is based on, where Kid Blink, Crutch Morris, Dutch[y] Johnson, [Swifty] the Rake, Bumlets, Snoddy, Pie Eater, Snipeshooter, among others really lived according to both articles on the strike and nyc census records), while it was operating as a newsboy lodge house, sometime c. 1890-1920. This could be another newsie that lived there during those years meeting the description of Crutch from the rally article, but its as close to a known photo as exists.

I am certain there is more, but I’m currently in the process of moving my historical documents out of google drive to fight the ai so I do not currently have access to my archive, I will attempt to add more tomorrow.

[lmelodymusicl]

Jack Kelly Headcanons (92sies)

Here are some headcanons for Jack Kelly (92sies)

Canon Era

Jack’s parents were born in Ireland and immigrated to America during the 1860s. His father was Francis Sullivan and his mother was Maureen Kelly.

Jack’s relationship with his parents was very complicated. His mother was always sweet and kind to him, but his father was always horrible and abusive to him. 

Jack’s mother told him stories about the Wild West when he was very young. That is where he gets his cowboy persona from. 

Jack and his father were always fighting, and it was always over the smallest things. His father was always drinking and getting into fights with random people on the street.

One day when Jack was ten years old, he and Maureen were walking down the street. Suddenly she started coughing and wheezing. When Jack saw this, he was worried and called out for help. But by the time the doctors arrived, it was too late. She had already died from pneumonia.

Jack’s relationship with his father worsened, and I don’t have much to say except the fact that his father ended up in jail for killing somebody. It was where he felt that he had to become a newsie so he could support himself. It was during this time where Medda took him in to live with her.

Jack has been sent to the Refuge twice, and it was horrible.

By the time he was eleven, he moved into the Duane Street lodging house, and it was by this time he met Racetrack, Crutchy, and all the other boys. It was also where Racetrack taught Jack how to stand up for himself. They’ve all remained a close bond. 

By the time Jack was sixteen, he met David Jacobs. At first David wanted nothing to do with Jack, but eventually they started becoming friends.

Has a close bond with Les, David’s little brother.

Is currently in a relationship with Sarah, who is David and Les’s older sister.

[riding-palominos-every-day]

So Smalls lives at the Elizabeth Home for Girls. She joins the boys to get her papers and sell with though; they're just more fun than the other girls.

She stays at their lodging house in the evenings, but can't stay the night (rules are rules). Some of the boys who have spare clothes let her borrow them, pants and shirts are more comfy than her old dress. Her hair's already cropped short, easier to wash that way.

After a while, she starts to wonder if the Elizabeth is really where she belongs. Oscar Delancey's already mistaken her for a boy once, and she didn't correct him- she got a little rush of excitement, in fact.

Then one night, after a lot of thinking, he goes to the front desk at Duane Street and hands over a few cents. Kloppman understands immediately. Some of the other boys are surprised at first, but they don't question him. Tommy Boy simply invites him to have the bunk above his, and that's that.

[ao3feed-newsies]

Duane Street December Day 4: Holiday Decorations

by, Superhero_fanatic by Superhero_fanatic Kloppman decorates the Lodging House for the holidays. Words: 253, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 4 of Duane Street December 2024 Fandoms: Newsies (1992) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Kloppman (Newsies) read : https://ift.tt/0qpywg6 - December 04, 2024 at 08:16PM

[undescribed1mage]

Archive Warning(s), Rating, & Category: None, Teen & Up, Gen

Fandom(s): Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: The Musical

Relationship(s): Racetrack Higgins & Jack Kelly, Crutchie & Racetrack Higgins, Crutchie & Racetrack Higgins & Jack Kelly

Character(s): Racetrack Higgins, Jack Kelly (Newsies), Crutchie (Newsies)

Additional Tag(s): Whumptober 2023, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Based on Newsies: The Musical (UK), Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Racetrack Higgins Needs A Hug, Post-Strike (Newsies), Panic Attack, Jack Kelly's Penthouse (Newsies), Brother Feels, Big Brother Jack Kelly (Newsies), Title from a Mumford & Sons Song, Crying, happy first bthb bingo 2 me

Summary:

If it were even three days earlier, Racetrack Higgins wouldn't have thought twice about climbing up the fire escape around the back of the Duane Street Lodging House up to Jack’s penthouse. If he had had this nightmare, one about his family, not just his mother like usual, but Joey, Crutchie, Jack too, making it the worst one he's had in like — forever, before the strike then he would've gone up and spent the night curled up with Jack and Crutchie, relying on their quiet snores to lull him to sleep.

Or — Racetrack has a nightmare after the strike.

[WRITTEN FOR WHUMPTOBER DAY 17: "LEAVE ME ALONE." AND THE @badthingshappenbingo PROMPTS "LEAVE ME ALONE." AND PANIC ATTACK.]

[Happy Bingo 2 me woah]

[betterto-die-thanto-crawl]

Francis Jack "Cowboy" Kelly Sullivan

FULL NAME: Francis Sullivan 

ALSO KNOWN AS: Jack Kelly, Cowboy

BIRTH DATE + AGE: August 16, 17 (canon)

ZODIAC: Leo GENDER: male (cis or trans, depending on verse) PRONOUNS: he/him SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual FACECLAIM: tba 

BIRTHPLACE: New York City, New York 

CURRENT HOME: Newsboy Lodging House at Duane St., Manhattan 

LANGUAGE: English 

OCCUPATION: Newsboy, leader of the Lower Manhattan Newsboys 

SPECIES: Human 

PARENTS: Mary Abigail Rose (Máire (MAW ra) Abigeál (AHBI ghel) Róisín (ROW sheen)) Sullivan (née Kelly) and John Andrew (Seán (SHAWN) Aíndriú (AHN dryu)) Sullivan

SIBLINGS: none 

OTHER(S): none

Jack Kelly’s childhood was good enough. His family was poor, crowded into Irish tenements in Lower Manhattan, but they always found a way to smile. His mother was a light, and his father’s laugh made anyone want to join in with his laughter. Jack grew up with stories about far away lands, cowboys and adventurers, craftily told by his father. These stories inspired him to start scribbling and drawing on any scrap of paper he could find until he perfected his talent for drawing. Their home was a home full of joy, even if the walls were thin and the room was small. They were together, and really, that was all that mattered. But when his mother fell pregnant, tragedy struck when she tripped and fell going down the tenement stairs, landing hard on her stomach, causing her to go into labor far too early. She miscarried and passed along with the baby, leaving Jack and his dad on their own. His dad broke, turning to drink in the evenings after work until he got into a fight at a bar one night and killed someone. He was carted off to jail, leaving Jack on his own. Born Francis Sullivan, Jack chose a new name, Jack (from his mother’s nickname for his father John) and Kelly (from his mother’s maiden name). From the start, he was on the run as Snyder sought to throw him into the Refuge before finally finding a refuge of his own among the newsboys of the Lower Manhattan “Newsboy’s Lodging House”, on Duane Street. From there, he would continue to dream of cowboy adventures and try desperately to escape from his family and the legacy they left him as Snyder continued to hunt him through the streets of New York. But he had friends and he wasn’t alone anymore, and his dreams carried him forward even when New York City wanted to hold him back. Someday, he knew, he would find his Santa Fe.

[make-friends-with-the-rats]

The Journal, February 16, 1896. [source]

This is an illustration of the "school room" in the newsboys' lodging house at 9 Duane Street.

First, I find the "boys who swear or use tobacco cannot stay here" to be hilarious.

Second, do you see who I see in the bottom right?

[walkman-cat]

:DD

putting this under a cut because it is LONG

[not-so-brief backstory wbwb]

Splasher was born in a village in an island in the cyclades. He lived with his parents, grandfather, and brother (Stathis, older than him by 6 years).

he learnt to swim from a young age, and since then loved water and swimming

Greece was quite poor in the late 19th century, and in 1895 Splasher’s family moved to America in hopes of better opportunities and good fortune (Splasher was 5-6, Stathis 12)

New York City was overwhelming in comparison to Splasher’s village, and only Stathis knew any English (and it wasn’t quite enough), but his parents eventually found jobs and Stathis began selling newspapers for Atlantis (a greek language newspaper around at the time. it was also monarchist :/). Splasher joined him when he turned 7.

Despite living in a crammed tenement, and having to do backbreaking work daily, Splasher’s family was happy. His pappous would tell him stories about sea monsters and heroes, and his parents would tell him about everything they would do when they ran into fortune (Splasher wanted to return to Greece, and buy a house by the sea and swim every day and maybe meet the monsters in his pappous’ stories).

One day in October of 1896, it was storming. Splasher was playing in the puddles (he likes the sound of when you throw a rock into water, and likes the sound of splashing even more), and Stathis was trying to convince him to come home before he caught cold.

When they eventually returned, they found their tenement building on fire (it’d been struck by lightning). Their tenement was near the top, and their parents and pappous were killed.

Splasher and Stathis went to live with another Greek family (family friends who they’d met on the boat to America) for the winter; but having two extra mouths to feed, even when they make some money, is tough, and in the spring of 1897 Stathis and Splasher left the family and started living on the streets (or, more accurately: Stathis took Splasher and left when he began to feel unwelcome)

They continued to sell newspapers, eventually moving from Atlantis to English language newspapers for better revenue and also to learn more English (Splasher could understand some of it and could speak a little, but couldn’t read; Stathis could read a bit and understand far more, but hesitated speaking it because of his accent)

in the summer, one day when the selling hadn’t been so great for a while, Stathis left Splasher alone in Greeley Square with a promise to return with food. he never returned.

lost, hungry, and without his only family, splasher went back to where the family he’d stayed with in the winter lived, only to find that they’d moved. Instead he finds Buttons’ family living there, who see his stack of papers and think he’s lost his way to the Duane St. lodging house, so when Buttons comes home they make him show Splasher the way.

Splasher and Buttons became friends on the walk there despite the language difference, and Buttons stayed the night at the lodging house so Splasher was less alone.

The rest is history :] (Splasher in my head is 10-ish during the strike) [notes and more ramblings wbwbwb]

Splasher’s been terrified of thunder, lightning, and fire ever since his house burnt down and usually spends thunderstorms in a fugue state. He still loves rain, though. And swimming.

teaches some of the other newsies how to swim

Buttons gave him the name Splasher early in their friendship. His real name is Ευάγγελος, but nowadays he only ever uses it when speaking to greek people who aren’t newsies.

Stathis was arrested for stealing food and sent to the refuge. Splasher finds this out from one of the older newsies (haven’t decided who) who was there with him. (They’d heard so much about him, and had promised to keep him safe if when they got out is Stathis didn’t make it)

What Splasher doesn’t find out is that Stathis died trying to escape. (He believes that Stathis left and went back to Greece. It’s better than thinking about the alternatives.)

Loves the other newsies fiercely, but misses being spoken to in Greek, so he seeks out other Greek families. Also hawks the headlines in a mixture of Greek and English.

Is the darling of the Greek elderly of lower manhattan. He regularly personally delivers many of them papers and he’s got a deal with this one γιαγια and her family where he gives them newspapers in exchange for meals (he’s also missed Greek cooking). Some of their behaviours are rubbing off on him.

Everything wrong that happens to him is because of the evil eye. Bad selling day? Someone gave him the μάτι. Injury? Someone gave him the μάτι. Headache? Evil eye. Other than this he isn’t particularly superstitious.

will aggressively ftou ftou ftou everyone around him (usually before the headline comes up). (ftou ftou ftouing being a way of protecting someone from the evil eye/bringing good luck) (usually this is done by parents/grandparents to children, but is also done generally and splasher doesn’t really care). the other newsies were initially confused as to why he was pretending to spit on them thrice but when he explained many of them also began ftou ftou ftouing (albeit with more saliva)

He once ftou ftou ftoued race and he won the bets he made at the races. Since then it’s become tradition for race to ask him for a ftouing before he goes to the races (not exactly how it works but Splasher doesn’t care, he likes the routine of it).

still trusts adults a lot more than he should

is used to being told what to do, and flounders when something new happens because Things are Unclear

the nuns somehow found out he’s Greek Orthodox and since then they often “forget” to give him any food/coffee in the morning. he hasn’t realised why he’s often left out and thinks it’s just because someone gave him the mati. Besides, his friends always share :)

sometimes tells the stories his pappous told him to the others (albeit with more of a focus on the sea monsters than the heroes, and with a lot of ad-libbing).

also teaches them greek curses (and later teaches davey some Greek when he asks)

anyways thanks to everyone who enabled me wbwbwbwbwb

would. would anyone care if i rambled about greek splasher wbwbw

[bumlets-appreciation-blog]

Duane Street December Day Seven: Mittens

Knitting wasn’t exactly Esther’s forte, but she hoped Jack liked the mittens all the same. She’d tried matching the color to his red bandana and had tasked Les with figuring out what size they should be. Jack may not be Jewish, but it didn’t stop him from bringing over some old paint from Irving Hall so Les could show him how to make menorahs out of his hand prints. They’d even roped David and Sarah into the impromptu craft session, though Esther had to put a stop to it when Sarah smeared paint all over Jack’s face, and he worked some into her hair in return. It was difficult to be stern when her children looked so happy and she was sure they could hear the smile in her voice while she lectured them about making a mess.

She’d gotten the idea for the present when the boys came home Sunday from selling papers. David and Les were fine, but Jack’s bare fingers were bright red and practically frozen from the cold. Esther had made him sit by the stove, piling him with every blanket in the apartment while Sarah set about making him some hot tea. Jack, as it had turned out, had given his gloves to a younger boy he called Snipeshooter and wouldn’t be able to replace them for a while. Jack was fed two helpings of soup and slept on the settee that night with Les plastered to his front and wasn’t allowed to leave until he’d had some coffee and a warm breakfast. Once he had gone, Esther immediately went to her yarn basket and set to work.

The mittens would hopefully be done tonight, and with any luck, he’d stick around long enough for her to give them to him. Hanukkah had already ended, but she hoped he wouldn’t mind an early Christmas present. He’d called himself “a lapsed Catholic” when Mayer had asked but spoke so highly of the Christmas dinner at the lodging house that she imagined he still celebrated parts of the holiday. Either way, Jack was a sweet boy, if still a little awkward from time to time, and deserved something nice. Even better, he deserved something nice that would also prevent him from losing his fingers to frostbite.

Esther, it seemed, had been blessed because she finished off the mittens right before she heard the sound of the boys coming up the stairs. Sarah helped her wrap them in paper and twine and managed to slide the package onto the table, in front of Jack’s usual seat at the table, right before they came tromping in. The look on Jack’s face when he saw the gift was an adorable mix of flustered and confused, but it paled in comparison to the softness in his eyes and the love on his face when he saw what was inside. Jack didn’t hug her very often, but as he wrapped his arms around her and whispered a “thank you” into her ear, she thought it made the hugs they did share even more special.

[chaosfairy18]

For @newsiesficchallenges day 6: headcannons

Due to the actual Bumlets of circa 1899 being referred to as "King of the Bums" and someone who speaks for the lodging house on Duane street I think before Jack came along and became leader that was Bumlets' job. At least mostly. He wasn't so much representing the Lower Manhattan Newsies to the outside as representing any wishes or complaints to Kloppman (or anyone else working in the lodge). He isn't feeling like he needs to be a leader so he stepped down when Jack wanted it but before that he knew he could help and stepped up. I also saw in a few fics that Kloppman would trust him with keys to lock up if there was ever anything so that would fit too and I am taking that. If there are any internal complaints he is still someone the others go to for advice or help.

Also his leather suspenders tell me he has at least some kind of higher standing and is very mindful of his appearance and how he talks.

[musicalcuriosity]

Monday, November 27th, 1899- The Sun

Another article about the boys denied entry to the Duane Street Lodging House in the afternoon. Said Robert Gibson:

“Every Sunday they open the doors at 1 o’clock in the afternoon and let us in so that we can use the gymnasium and get out of the cold. Today we were froze out. They didn’t open the door at 1 o’clock, but kept us out all day. The dudes that pay 10 cents a night got in. We only pay five cents. There’s only a few dudes. We got hunk tonight. Every Sunday night they have a meeting and ladies come to hear us sing. Tonight we all stayed out and wouldn’t come in when they opened the doors and there was only about six of the dudes at meeting. There were sixty of us who stayed out.”

Counter to Robert’s statement, Mr. Heig said the boys were kept out because some of them had played in the freshly painted walls the day before, and that only about 20 boys “revolted”.

People:

Robert Gibson, age 15, newsboy

Superintendent [Rudolph] Heig 

Places:

Newsboys’ Lodging House

Duane Street