A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO THE NEAR EAST SIDE OF DETROIT Because of swift, undirected growth, Detroit may have forlorn aspects, but this does not indicate a lack of civic pride. — Michigan, A Guide To the Wolverine State (WPA, 1941) * * * Jonathan Miller is our Guide to Detroit, the city where he lives and works as a hotel maintenance manager. You know that thing you broke at that hotel, he fixed it. His photography is on tumblr at detroitmaintenanceman and everything else is at his website, detroitmaintenance.
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A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO THE NEAR EAST SIDE OF DETROIT Because of swift, undirected growth, Detroit may have forlorn aspects, but this does not indicate a lack of civic pride. — Michigan, A Guide To the Wolverine State (WPA, 1941) * * * Jonathan Miller is our Guide to Detroit, the city where he lives and works as a hotel maintenance manager. You know that thing you broke at that hotel, he fixed it. His photography is on tumblr at detroitmaintenanceman and everything else is at his website, detroitmaintenance.
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A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO THE NEAR EAST SIDE OF DETROIT Because of swift, undirected growth, Detroit may have forlorn aspects, but this does not indicate a lack of civic pride. — Michigan, A Guide To the Wolverine State (WPA, 1941) * * * Jonathan Miller is our Guide to Detroit, the city where he lives and works as a hotel maintenance manager. You know that thing you broke at that hotel, he fixed it. His photography is on tumblr at detroitmaintenanceman and everything else is at his website, detroitmaintenance.
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A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO THE NEAR EAST SIDE OF DETROIT Because of swift, undirected growth, Detroit may have forlorn aspects, but this does not indicate a lack of civic pride. — Michigan, A Guide To the Wolverine State (WPA, 1941) * * * Jonathan Miller is our Guide to Detroit, the city where he lives and works as a hotel maintenance manager. You know that thing you broke at that hotel, he fixed it. His photography is on tumblr at detroitmaintenanceman and everything else is at his website, detroitmaintenance.
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A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO THE NEAR EAST SIDE OF DETROIT Because of swift, undirected growth, Detroit may have forlorn aspects, but this does not indicate a lack of civic pride. — Michigan, A Guide To the Wolverine State (WPA, 1941) * * * Jonathan Miller is our Guide to Detroit, the city where he lives and works as a hotel maintenance manager. You know that thing you broke at that hotel, he fixed it. His photography is on tumblr at detroitmaintenanceman and everything else is at his website, detroitmaintenance.
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A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO THE NEAR EAST SIDE OF DETROIT

Because of swift, undirected growth, Detroit may have forlorn aspects, but this does not indicate a lack of civic pride.

— Michigan, A Guide To the Wolverine State (WPA, 1941)

* * *

Jonathan Miller is our Guide to Detroit, the city where he lives and works as a hotel maintenance manager. You know that thing you broke at that hotel, he fixed it. His photography is on tumblr at detroitmaintenanceman and everything else is at his website, detroitmaintenance.

TEN PIN JESUS - SAINT PAUL, MINNESOTA There’s a friendly reminder when you walk into the St. Francis Bowling Center in Saint Paul, Minn., players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.” That’s because this is a church basement bowling alley.   Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after-quitting-time fun (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and ’90s. But, you might be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. * * * Tom McNamara is the co-editor of THE AMERICAN GUIDE.
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TEN PIN JESUS - SAINT PAUL, MINNESOTA There’s a friendly reminder when you walk into the St. Francis Bowling Center in Saint Paul, Minn., players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.” That’s because this is a church basement bowling alley.   Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after-quitting-time fun (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and ’90s. But, you might be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. * * * Tom McNamara is the co-editor of THE AMERICAN GUIDE.
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TEN PIN JESUS - SAINT PAUL, MINNESOTA There’s a friendly reminder when you walk into the St. Francis Bowling Center in Saint Paul, Minn., players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.” That’s because this is a church basement bowling alley.   Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after-quitting-time fun (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and ’90s. But, you might be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. * * * Tom McNamara is the co-editor of THE AMERICAN GUIDE.
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TEN PIN JESUS - SAINT PAUL, MINNESOTA There’s a friendly reminder when you walk into the St. Francis Bowling Center in Saint Paul, Minn., players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.” That’s because this is a church basement bowling alley.   Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after-quitting-time fun (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and ’90s. But, you might be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. * * * Tom McNamara is the co-editor of THE AMERICAN GUIDE.
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TEN PIN JESUS - SAINT PAUL, MINNESOTA There’s a friendly reminder when you walk into the St. Francis Bowling Center in Saint Paul, Minn., players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.” That’s because this is a church basement bowling alley.   Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after-quitting-time fun (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and ’90s. But, you might be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. * * * Tom McNamara is the co-editor of THE AMERICAN GUIDE.
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TEN PIN JESUS - SAINT PAUL, MINNESOTA There’s a friendly reminder when you walk into the St. Francis Bowling Center in Saint Paul, Minn., players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.” That’s because this is a church basement bowling alley.   Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after-quitting-time fun (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and ’90s. But, you might be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. * * * Tom McNamara is the co-editor of THE AMERICAN GUIDE.
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TEN PIN JESUS - SAINT PAUL, MINNESOTA

There’s a friendly reminder when you walk into the St. Francis Bowling Center in Saint Paul, Minn., players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.”

That’s because this is a church basement bowling alley.  

Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after-quitting-time fun (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar).

Most started closing down in the 1980s and ’90s. But, you might be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer.

* * *

Tom McNamara is the co-editor of THE AMERICAN GUIDE.

SIKH PARADE - STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA “I just got back from the Sikh Parade,” I tell my friends. “The what?” they say. “The Sikh Parade. Starts near the beginning of San Joaquin Street, snakes through Downtown and across Weber, then back up California Street. Ya know?” “Never heard of it.” I’ve attended the Sikh Parade for three years in a row now, and I maintain that it is one of the most enjoyable and liberating events that Stockton, California, has to offer its residents. Fresh, delicious Indian food is available on every street corner. Cultural music spills out of float speakers as they roll by. A wash of vibrant, colorful fabric streams through the street — collecting the bright spring sunlight and reflecting it against shop windows and the dashboards of parked cars. In 2012, the April parade preluded the October celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Stockton Gurdwara on South Grant Street. This temple is the first permanent Sikh settlement in the United States, and Sikhs from all over the California Central Valley come to visit and participate in the parade’s progression through the city. The Sikh parade happens each year at the tail end of April.  * * * Brandon Getty is a State Guide to California, specifically the Central Valley region and his home city of Stockton. Follow on Tumblr at Maps to Stockton, on blogspot at Shooting Daggers, or on his Carbonmade Portfolio.
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SIKH PARADE - STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA “I just got back from the Sikh Parade,” I tell my friends. “The what?” they say. “The Sikh Parade. Starts near the beginning of San Joaquin Street, snakes through Downtown and across Weber, then back up California Street. Ya know?” “Never heard of it.” I’ve attended the Sikh Parade for three years in a row now, and I maintain that it is one of the most enjoyable and liberating events that Stockton, California, has to offer its residents. Fresh, delicious Indian food is available on every street corner. Cultural music spills out of float speakers as they roll by. A wash of vibrant, colorful fabric streams through the street — collecting the bright spring sunlight and reflecting it against shop windows and the dashboards of parked cars. In 2012, the April parade preluded the October celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Stockton Gurdwara on South Grant Street. This temple is the first permanent Sikh settlement in the United States, and Sikhs from all over the California Central Valley come to visit and participate in the parade’s progression through the city. The Sikh parade happens each year at the tail end of April.  * * * Brandon Getty is a State Guide to California, specifically the Central Valley region and his home city of Stockton. Follow on Tumblr at Maps to Stockton, on blogspot at Shooting Daggers, or on his Carbonmade Portfolio.
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SIKH PARADE - STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA “I just got back from the Sikh Parade,” I tell my friends. “The what?” they say. “The Sikh Parade. Starts near the beginning of San Joaquin Street, snakes through Downtown and across Weber, then back up California Street. Ya know?” “Never heard of it.” I’ve attended the Sikh Parade for three years in a row now, and I maintain that it is one of the most enjoyable and liberating events that Stockton, California, has to offer its residents. Fresh, delicious Indian food is available on every street corner. Cultural music spills out of float speakers as they roll by. A wash of vibrant, colorful fabric streams through the street — collecting the bright spring sunlight and reflecting it against shop windows and the dashboards of parked cars. In 2012, the April parade preluded the October celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Stockton Gurdwara on South Grant Street. This temple is the first permanent Sikh settlement in the United States, and Sikhs from all over the California Central Valley come to visit and participate in the parade’s progression through the city. The Sikh parade happens each year at the tail end of April.  * * * Brandon Getty is a State Guide to California, specifically the Central Valley region and his home city of Stockton. Follow on Tumblr at Maps to Stockton, on blogspot at Shooting Daggers, or on his Carbonmade Portfolio.
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SIKH PARADE - STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA “I just got back from the Sikh Parade,” I tell my friends. “The what?” they say. “The Sikh Parade. Starts near the beginning of San Joaquin Street, snakes through Downtown and across Weber, then back up California Street. Ya know?” “Never heard of it.” I’ve attended the Sikh Parade for three years in a row now, and I maintain that it is one of the most enjoyable and liberating events that Stockton, California, has to offer its residents. Fresh, delicious Indian food is available on every street corner. Cultural music spills out of float speakers as they roll by. A wash of vibrant, colorful fabric streams through the street — collecting the bright spring sunlight and reflecting it against shop windows and the dashboards of parked cars. In 2012, the April parade preluded the October celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Stockton Gurdwara on South Grant Street. This temple is the first permanent Sikh settlement in the United States, and Sikhs from all over the California Central Valley come to visit and participate in the parade’s progression through the city. The Sikh parade happens each year at the tail end of April.  * * * Brandon Getty is a State Guide to California, specifically the Central Valley region and his home city of Stockton. Follow on Tumblr at Maps to Stockton, on blogspot at Shooting Daggers, or on his Carbonmade Portfolio.
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SIKH PARADE - STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA “I just got back from the Sikh Parade,” I tell my friends. “The what?” they say. “The Sikh Parade. Starts near the beginning of San Joaquin Street, snakes through Downtown and across Weber, then back up California Street. Ya know?” “Never heard of it.” I’ve attended the Sikh Parade for three years in a row now, and I maintain that it is one of the most enjoyable and liberating events that Stockton, California, has to offer its residents. Fresh, delicious Indian food is available on every street corner. Cultural music spills out of float speakers as they roll by. A wash of vibrant, colorful fabric streams through the street — collecting the bright spring sunlight and reflecting it against shop windows and the dashboards of parked cars. In 2012, the April parade preluded the October celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Stockton Gurdwara on South Grant Street. This temple is the first permanent Sikh settlement in the United States, and Sikhs from all over the California Central Valley come to visit and participate in the parade’s progression through the city. The Sikh parade happens each year at the tail end of April.  * * * Brandon Getty is a State Guide to California, specifically the Central Valley region and his home city of Stockton. Follow on Tumblr at Maps to Stockton, on blogspot at Shooting Daggers, or on his Carbonmade Portfolio.
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SIKH PARADE - STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA “I just got back from the Sikh Parade,” I tell my friends. “The what?” they say. “The Sikh Parade. Starts near the beginning of San Joaquin Street, snakes through Downtown and across Weber, then back up California Street. Ya know?” “Never heard of it.” I’ve attended the Sikh Parade for three years in a row now, and I maintain that it is one of the most enjoyable and liberating events that Stockton, California, has to offer its residents. Fresh, delicious Indian food is available on every street corner. Cultural music spills out of float speakers as they roll by. A wash of vibrant, colorful fabric streams through the street — collecting the bright spring sunlight and reflecting it against shop windows and the dashboards of parked cars. In 2012, the April parade preluded the October celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Stockton Gurdwara on South Grant Street. This temple is the first permanent Sikh settlement in the United States, and Sikhs from all over the California Central Valley come to visit and participate in the parade’s progression through the city. The Sikh parade happens each year at the tail end of April.  * * * Brandon Getty is a State Guide to California, specifically the Central Valley region and his home city of Stockton. Follow on Tumblr at Maps to Stockton, on blogspot at Shooting Daggers, or on his Carbonmade Portfolio.
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SIKH PARADE - STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA “I just got back from the Sikh Parade,” I tell my friends. “The what?” they say. “The Sikh Parade. Starts near the beginning of San Joaquin Street, snakes through Downtown and across Weber, then back up California Street. Ya know?” “Never heard of it.” I’ve attended the Sikh Parade for three years in a row now, and I maintain that it is one of the most enjoyable and liberating events that Stockton, California, has to offer its residents. Fresh, delicious Indian food is available on every street corner. Cultural music spills out of float speakers as they roll by. A wash of vibrant, colorful fabric streams through the street — collecting the bright spring sunlight and reflecting it against shop windows and the dashboards of parked cars. In 2012, the April parade preluded the October celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Stockton Gurdwara on South Grant Street. This temple is the first permanent Sikh settlement in the United States, and Sikhs from all over the California Central Valley come to visit and participate in the parade’s progression through the city. The Sikh parade happens each year at the tail end of April.  * * * Brandon Getty is a State Guide to California, specifically the Central Valley region and his home city of Stockton. Follow on Tumblr at Maps to Stockton, on blogspot at Shooting Daggers, or on his Carbonmade Portfolio.
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SIKH PARADE - STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA

“I just got back from the Sikh Parade,” I tell my friends. “The what?” they say. “The Sikh Parade. Starts near the beginning of San Joaquin Street, snakes through Downtown and across Weber, then back up California Street. Ya know?”

“Never heard of it.”

I’ve attended the Sikh Parade for three years in a row now, and I maintain that it is one of the most enjoyable and liberating events that Stockton, California, has to offer its residents.

Fresh, delicious Indian food is available on every street corner. Cultural music spills out of float speakers as they roll by. A wash of vibrant, colorful fabric streams through the street — collecting the bright spring sunlight and reflecting it against shop windows and the dashboards of parked cars.

In 2012, the April parade preluded the October celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Stockton Gurdwara on South Grant Street. This temple is the first permanent Sikh settlement in the United States, and Sikhs from all over the California Central Valley come to visit and participate in the parade’s progression through the city.

The Sikh parade happens each year at the tail end of April. 

* * *

Brandon Getty is a State Guide to California, specifically the Central Valley region and his home city of Stockton. Follow on Tumblr at Maps to Stockton, on blogspot at Shooting Daggers, or on his Carbonmade Portfolio.

TOWERS AND SPIRES The great variety of treatment of church towers and spires is a characteristic element of the Vermont scene. In contrast with the rolling green and blue of the Vermont hills these white sentinels provide the needed accent to the serenity of the landscape. A square tower rising from the front of the church, terminating in a belfry surmounted by a spire was the most common form. … The interiors of the churches were for the most part plain to the point of severity, and the infrequent original pulpit compositions as in the Federated Church (1833) in Castleton were limited by an aestheticism rooted in a moral distrust of the ornate. — Vermont, A Guide to the Green Mountain State (WPA, 1937) * * * Tara Wray is the State Guide to Vermont. Follow her on Tumblr at Tara Wray Photography. Also, see her chapbook, “Barnard People, Vol. 1, Photographs of Vermonters.”
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TOWERS AND SPIRES The great variety of treatment of church towers and spires is a characteristic element of the Vermont scene. In contrast with the rolling green and blue of the Vermont hills these white sentinels provide the needed accent to the serenity of the landscape. A square tower rising from the front of the church, terminating in a belfry surmounted by a spire was the most common form. … The interiors of the churches were for the most part plain to the point of severity, and the infrequent original pulpit compositions as in the Federated Church (1833) in Castleton were limited by an aestheticism rooted in a moral distrust of the ornate. — Vermont, A Guide to the Green Mountain State (WPA, 1937) * * * Tara Wray is the State Guide to Vermont. Follow her on Tumblr at Tara Wray Photography. Also, see her chapbook, “Barnard People, Vol. 1, Photographs of Vermonters.”
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TOWERS AND SPIRES The great variety of treatment of church towers and spires is a characteristic element of the Vermont scene. In contrast with the rolling green and blue of the Vermont hills these white sentinels provide the needed accent to the serenity of the landscape. A square tower rising from the front of the church, terminating in a belfry surmounted by a spire was the most common form. … The interiors of the churches were for the most part plain to the point of severity, and the infrequent original pulpit compositions as in the Federated Church (1833) in Castleton were limited by an aestheticism rooted in a moral distrust of the ornate. — Vermont, A Guide to the Green Mountain State (WPA, 1937) * * * Tara Wray is the State Guide to Vermont. Follow her on Tumblr at Tara Wray Photography. Also, see her chapbook, “Barnard People, Vol. 1, Photographs of Vermonters.”
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TOWERS AND SPIRES The great variety of treatment of church towers and spires is a characteristic element of the Vermont scene. In contrast with the rolling green and blue of the Vermont hills these white sentinels provide the needed accent to the serenity of the landscape. A square tower rising from the front of the church, terminating in a belfry surmounted by a spire was the most common form. … The interiors of the churches were for the most part plain to the point of severity, and the infrequent original pulpit compositions as in the Federated Church (1833) in Castleton were limited by an aestheticism rooted in a moral distrust of the ornate. — Vermont, A Guide to the Green Mountain State (WPA, 1937) * * * Tara Wray is the State Guide to Vermont. Follow her on Tumblr at Tara Wray Photography. Also, see her chapbook, “Barnard People, Vol. 1, Photographs of Vermonters.”
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TOWERS AND SPIRES The great variety of treatment of church towers and spires is a characteristic element of the Vermont scene. In contrast with the rolling green and blue of the Vermont hills these white sentinels provide the needed accent to the serenity of the landscape. A square tower rising from the front of the church, terminating in a belfry surmounted by a spire was the most common form. … The interiors of the churches were for the most part plain to the point of severity, and the infrequent original pulpit compositions as in the Federated Church (1833) in Castleton were limited by an aestheticism rooted in a moral distrust of the ornate. — Vermont, A Guide to the Green Mountain State (WPA, 1937) * * * Tara Wray is the State Guide to Vermont. Follow her on Tumblr at Tara Wray Photography. Also, see her chapbook, “Barnard People, Vol. 1, Photographs of Vermonters.”
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TOWERS AND SPIRES The great variety of treatment of church towers and spires is a characteristic element of the Vermont scene. In contrast with the rolling green and blue of the Vermont hills these white sentinels provide the needed accent to the serenity of the landscape. A square tower rising from the front of the church, terminating in a belfry surmounted by a spire was the most common form. … The interiors of the churches were for the most part plain to the point of severity, and the infrequent original pulpit compositions as in the Federated Church (1833) in Castleton were limited by an aestheticism rooted in a moral distrust of the ornate. — Vermont, A Guide to the Green Mountain State (WPA, 1937) * * * Tara Wray is the State Guide to Vermont. Follow her on Tumblr at Tara Wray Photography. Also, see her chapbook, “Barnard People, Vol. 1, Photographs of Vermonters.”
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TOWERS AND SPIRES The great variety of treatment of church towers and spires is a characteristic element of the Vermont scene. In contrast with the rolling green and blue of the Vermont hills these white sentinels provide the needed accent to the serenity of the landscape. A square tower rising from the front of the church, terminating in a belfry surmounted by a spire was the most common form. … The interiors of the churches were for the most part plain to the point of severity, and the infrequent original pulpit compositions as in the Federated Church (1833) in Castleton were limited by an aestheticism rooted in a moral distrust of the ornate. — Vermont, A Guide to the Green Mountain State (WPA, 1937) * * * Tara Wray is the State Guide to Vermont. Follow her on Tumblr at Tara Wray Photography. Also, see her chapbook, “Barnard People, Vol. 1, Photographs of Vermonters.”
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TOWERS AND SPIRES The great variety of treatment of church towers and spires is a characteristic element of the Vermont scene. In contrast with the rolling green and blue of the Vermont hills these white sentinels provide the needed accent to the serenity of the landscape. A square tower rising from the front of the church, terminating in a belfry surmounted by a spire was the most common form. … The interiors of the churches were for the most part plain to the point of severity, and the infrequent original pulpit compositions as in the Federated Church (1833) in Castleton were limited by an aestheticism rooted in a moral distrust of the ornate. — Vermont, A Guide to the Green Mountain State (WPA, 1937) * * * Tara Wray is the State Guide to Vermont. Follow her on Tumblr at Tara Wray Photography. Also, see her chapbook, “Barnard People, Vol. 1, Photographs of Vermonters.”
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TOWERS AND SPIRES

The great variety of treatment of church towers and spires is a characteristic element of the Vermont scene. In contrast with the rolling green and blue of the Vermont hills these white sentinels provide the needed accent to the serenity of the landscape. A square tower rising from the front of the church, terminating in a belfry surmounted by a spire was the most common form. … The interiors of the churches were for the most part plain to the point of severity, and the infrequent original pulpit compositions as in the Federated Church (1833) in Castleton were limited by an aestheticism rooted in a moral distrust of the ornate.

— Vermont, A Guide to the Green Mountain State (WPA, 1937)

* * *

Tara Wray is the State Guide to Vermont. Follow her on Tumblr at Tara Wray Photography. Also, see her chapbook, “Barnard People, Vol. 1, Photographs of Vermonters.”

SUGARLAND A guide to Harlem, Florida, using Florida: A Guide to the Southernmost State (WPA, 1939) as your map.  You see the sign — Harlem — and turn off the Sugarland Highway just past Clewiston. Unless you lived in it, you wouldn’t know Harlem, Florida. You drive up and are introduced by a white church outlined in yellow abutting a graveyard. So many of the structures are white: from the blindingly-so church to the faded, off-white houses up and down the streets. In the cemetery, white cattle egrets strut among the headstones, skittering off when you get too close.  Your WPA Florida guidebook says Harlem was a settlement established by the transient blacks that worked in the U.S. Sugar Corporation fields. And, in the square-mile wide Harlem skyline, the U.S. Sugar plant is still there. It is the Harlem skyline. You get the feeling it always will be. Today, the town remains almost all black, half live below the poverty line, and half still work in agriculture. Florida-born Zora Neale Hurston, in her 1937 book, Their Eyes Were Watching God, is quoted by your guide; describing the scene of itinerant pickers in and around Lake Okeechobee, not far from Harlem: Day by day now, the hordes of workers poured in. Some came limping in with their shoes and sore feet from walking. It’s hard trying to follow your shoe instead of your shoe following you. They came in wagons from way up in Georgia and they came in truck loads from east, west, north and south. Permanent transients with no attachments and tired looking men with their families and dogs in flivvers. All night, all day, hurrying in to pick beans. Skillets, beds, patched up spare inner tubes all hanging and dangling from the ancient cars on the outside and hopeful humanity, herded and hovered on the inside, chugging on to the muck. People ugly from ignorance and broken from being poor. In Harlem, take out the black glossy SUVs and beat-up pick-ups, imagine half the number of headstones in the church graveyard: sometimes years gone by can still leave things in stasis, just more of the same and the same. * * * Tom McNamara is the co-editor of The American Guide.
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SUGARLAND A guide to Harlem, Florida, using Florida: A Guide to the Southernmost State (WPA, 1939) as your map.  You see the sign — Harlem — and turn off the Sugarland Highway just past Clewiston. Unless you lived in it, you wouldn’t know Harlem, Florida. You drive up and are introduced by a white church outlined in yellow abutting a graveyard. So many of the structures are white: from the blindingly-so church to the faded, off-white houses up and down the streets. In the cemetery, white cattle egrets strut among the headstones, skittering off when you get too close.  Your WPA Florida guidebook says Harlem was a settlement established by the transient blacks that worked in the U.S. Sugar Corporation fields. And, in the square-mile wide Harlem skyline, the U.S. Sugar plant is still there. It is the Harlem skyline. You get the feeling it always will be. Today, the town remains almost all black, half live below the poverty line, and half still work in agriculture. Florida-born Zora Neale Hurston, in her 1937 book, Their Eyes Were Watching God, is quoted by your guide; describing the scene of itinerant pickers in and around Lake Okeechobee, not far from Harlem: Day by day now, the hordes of workers poured in. Some came limping in with their shoes and sore feet from walking. It’s hard trying to follow your shoe instead of your shoe following you. They came in wagons from way up in Georgia and they came in truck loads from east, west, north and south. Permanent transients with no attachments and tired looking men with their families and dogs in flivvers. All night, all day, hurrying in to pick beans. Skillets, beds, patched up spare inner tubes all hanging and dangling from the ancient cars on the outside and hopeful humanity, herded and hovered on the inside, chugging on to the muck. People ugly from ignorance and broken from being poor. In Harlem, take out the black glossy SUVs and beat-up pick-ups, imagine half the number of headstones in the church graveyard: sometimes years gone by can still leave things in stasis, just more of the same and the same. * * * Tom McNamara is the co-editor of The American Guide.
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SUGARLAND A guide to Harlem, Florida, using Florida: A Guide to the Southernmost State (WPA, 1939) as your map.  You see the sign — Harlem — and turn off the Sugarland Highway just past Clewiston. Unless you lived in it, you wouldn’t know Harlem, Florida. You drive up and are introduced by a white church outlined in yellow abutting a graveyard. So many of the structures are white: from the blindingly-so church to the faded, off-white houses up and down the streets. In the cemetery, white cattle egrets strut among the headstones, skittering off when you get too close.  Your WPA Florida guidebook says Harlem was a settlement established by the transient blacks that worked in the U.S. Sugar Corporation fields. And, in the square-mile wide Harlem skyline, the U.S. Sugar plant is still there. It is the Harlem skyline. You get the feeling it always will be. Today, the town remains almost all black, half live below the poverty line, and half still work in agriculture. Florida-born Zora Neale Hurston, in her 1937 book, Their Eyes Were Watching God, is quoted by your guide; describing the scene of itinerant pickers in and around Lake Okeechobee, not far from Harlem: Day by day now, the hordes of workers poured in. Some came limping in with their shoes and sore feet from walking. It’s hard trying to follow your shoe instead of your shoe following you. They came in wagons from way up in Georgia and they came in truck loads from east, west, north and south. Permanent transients with no attachments and tired looking men with their families and dogs in flivvers. All night, all day, hurrying in to pick beans. Skillets, beds, patched up spare inner tubes all hanging and dangling from the ancient cars on the outside and hopeful humanity, herded and hovered on the inside, chugging on to the muck. People ugly from ignorance and broken from being poor. In Harlem, take out the black glossy SUVs and beat-up pick-ups, imagine half the number of headstones in the church graveyard: sometimes years gone by can still leave things in stasis, just more of the same and the same. * * * Tom McNamara is the co-editor of The American Guide.
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SUGARLAND A guide to Harlem, Florida, using Florida: A Guide to the Southernmost State (WPA, 1939) as your map.  You see the sign — Harlem — and turn off the Sugarland Highway just past Clewiston. Unless you lived in it, you wouldn’t know Harlem, Florida. You drive up and are introduced by a white church outlined in yellow abutting a graveyard. So many of the structures are white: from the blindingly-so church to the faded, off-white houses up and down the streets. In the cemetery, white cattle egrets strut among the headstones, skittering off when you get too close.  Your WPA Florida guidebook says Harlem was a settlement established by the transient blacks that worked in the U.S. Sugar Corporation fields. And, in the square-mile wide Harlem skyline, the U.S. Sugar plant is still there. It is the Harlem skyline. You get the feeling it always will be. Today, the town remains almost all black, half live below the poverty line, and half still work in agriculture. Florida-born Zora Neale Hurston, in her 1937 book, Their Eyes Were Watching God, is quoted by your guide; describing the scene of itinerant pickers in and around Lake Okeechobee, not far from Harlem: Day by day now, the hordes of workers poured in. Some came limping in with their shoes and sore feet from walking. It’s hard trying to follow your shoe instead of your shoe following you. They came in wagons from way up in Georgia and they came in truck loads from east, west, north and south. Permanent transients with no attachments and tired looking men with their families and dogs in flivvers. All night, all day, hurrying in to pick beans. Skillets, beds, patched up spare inner tubes all hanging and dangling from the ancient cars on the outside and hopeful humanity, herded and hovered on the inside, chugging on to the muck. People ugly from ignorance and broken from being poor. In Harlem, take out the black glossy SUVs and beat-up pick-ups, imagine half the number of headstones in the church graveyard: sometimes years gone by can still leave things in stasis, just more of the same and the same. * * * Tom McNamara is the co-editor of The American Guide.
Zoom
SUGARLAND A guide to Harlem, Florida, using Florida: A Guide to the Southernmost State (WPA, 1939) as your map.  You see the sign — Harlem — and turn off the Sugarland Highway just past Clewiston. Unless you lived in it, you wouldn’t know Harlem, Florida. You drive up and are introduced by a white church outlined in yellow abutting a graveyard. So many of the structures are white: from the blindingly-so church to the faded, off-white houses up and down the streets. In the cemetery, white cattle egrets strut among the headstones, skittering off when you get too close.  Your WPA Florida guidebook says Harlem was a settlement established by the transient blacks that worked in the U.S. Sugar Corporation fields. And, in the square-mile wide Harlem skyline, the U.S. Sugar plant is still there. It is the Harlem skyline. You get the feeling it always will be. Today, the town remains almost all black, half live below the poverty line, and half still work in agriculture. Florida-born Zora Neale Hurston, in her 1937 book, Their Eyes Were Watching God, is quoted by your guide; describing the scene of itinerant pickers in and around Lake Okeechobee, not far from Harlem: Day by day now, the hordes of workers poured in. Some came limping in with their shoes and sore feet from walking. It’s hard trying to follow your shoe instead of your shoe following you. They came in wagons from way up in Georgia and they came in truck loads from east, west, north and south. Permanent transients with no attachments and tired looking men with their families and dogs in flivvers. All night, all day, hurrying in to pick beans. Skillets, beds, patched up spare inner tubes all hanging and dangling from the ancient cars on the outside and hopeful humanity, herded and hovered on the inside, chugging on to the muck. People ugly from ignorance and broken from being poor. In Harlem, take out the black glossy SUVs and beat-up pick-ups, imagine half the number of headstones in the church graveyard: sometimes years gone by can still leave things in stasis, just more of the same and the same. * * * Tom McNamara is the co-editor of The American Guide.
Zoom

SUGARLAND

A guide to Harlem, Florida, using Florida: A Guide to the Southernmost State (WPA, 1939) as your map. 

You see the sign — Harlem — and turn off the Sugarland Highway just past Clewiston. Unless you lived in it, you wouldn’t know Harlem, Florida. You drive up and are introduced by a white church outlined in yellow abutting a graveyard. So many of the structures are white: from the blindingly-so church to the faded, off-white houses up and down the streets. In the cemetery, white cattle egrets strut among the headstones, skittering off when you get too close. 

Your WPA Florida guidebook says Harlem was a settlement established by the transient blacks that worked in the U.S. Sugar Corporation fields. And, in the square-mile wide Harlem skyline, the U.S. Sugar plant is still there. It is the Harlem skyline. You get the feeling it always will be.

Today, the town remains almost all black, half live below the poverty line, and half still work in agriculture.

Florida-born Zora Neale Hurston, in her 1937 book, Their Eyes Were Watching God, is quoted by your guide; describing the scene of itinerant pickers in and around Lake Okeechobee, not far from Harlem:

Day by day now, the hordes of workers poured in. Some came limping in with their shoes and sore feet from walking. It’s hard trying to follow your shoe instead of your shoe following you. They came in wagons from way up in Georgia and they came in truck loads from east, west, north and south. Permanent transients with no attachments and tired looking men with their families and dogs in flivvers. All night, all day, hurrying in to pick beans. Skillets, beds, patched up spare inner tubes all hanging and dangling from the ancient cars on the outside and hopeful humanity, herded and hovered on the inside, chugging on to the muck. People ugly from ignorance and broken from being poor.

In Harlem, take out the black glossy SUVs and beat-up pick-ups, imagine half the number of headstones in the church graveyard: sometimes years gone by can still leave things in stasis, just more of the same and the same.

* * *

Tom McNamara is the co-editor of The American Guide.

GANESHA TEMPLE, QUEENS Intricately carved rooftop gopurams (towers) rise above the Ganesha Temple, soaring over the neighborhood’s detached houses, backyard kiddie pools, and Q27 bus stops. The Hindu Temple Society of North America’s Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, or Ganesha Temple in Flushing, Queens (45-57 Bowne St) is one of the nation’s oldest and largest Hindu temples, claiming more than 20,000 devotees on its rolls. It conducts daily services, holds classes and events in its community center, and hosts festival celebrations throughout the year. The Temple Society was formed in 1970, and early services were conducted in a small frame house on the site of today’s temple. A larger structure was completed in 1977 and multi-million dollar renovations in the 2000s included the installation of thousands of tons of granite carved in India by hundreds of artisans and reconstructed at the Flushing complex. Lord Ganeša, Hinduism’s elephant-headed god, is the presiding deity of the Queens temple, but more than 40 others are worshipped there, as well. “Interior spaces of American Hindu temples are designed to be more communal as compared with the intimate spaces within traditional Hindu temples,” says Mary McGee, Associate Professor of Classical Hinduism at Columbia University. On sunny mornings in the Ganesha Temple, adherents make their way to the shrines through the brilliant spears of light admitted by numerous skylights, but the sense of community in the main temple area penetrates even to the fluorescent-lit basement vegetarian canteen. There, kitchen staff serve up both food offerings for temple deities and delicious South Indian vegetarian dishes for cafeteria-goers. (Generally open 8:30am-9:00pm) Visitors are welcome to the Ganesha Temple, but are expected to respectfully follow temple rules (e.g. shoes are not allowed inside). The above photos were taken during ceremonies to infuse divine energy into temple statues after renovation. Before an admiring crowd, Minnie the elephant paraded to the temple as a manifestation of Lord Ganeša. On the building’s roof, priests poured holy baths of water, milk, and honey onto temple deities. * * *  Erin Chapman is co-editor of the American Guide. 
Zoom Info
GANESHA TEMPLE, QUEENS Intricately carved rooftop gopurams (towers) rise above the Ganesha Temple, soaring over the neighborhood’s detached houses, backyard kiddie pools, and Q27 bus stops. The Hindu Temple Society of North America’s Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, or Ganesha Temple in Flushing, Queens (45-57 Bowne St) is one of the nation’s oldest and largest Hindu temples, claiming more than 20,000 devotees on its rolls. It conducts daily services, holds classes and events in its community center, and hosts festival celebrations throughout the year. The Temple Society was formed in 1970, and early services were conducted in a small frame house on the site of today’s temple. A larger structure was completed in 1977 and multi-million dollar renovations in the 2000s included the installation of thousands of tons of granite carved in India by hundreds of artisans and reconstructed at the Flushing complex. Lord Ganeša, Hinduism’s elephant-headed god, is the presiding deity of the Queens temple, but more than 40 others are worshipped there, as well. “Interior spaces of American Hindu temples are designed to be more communal as compared with the intimate spaces within traditional Hindu temples,” says Mary McGee, Associate Professor of Classical Hinduism at Columbia University. On sunny mornings in the Ganesha Temple, adherents make their way to the shrines through the brilliant spears of light admitted by numerous skylights, but the sense of community in the main temple area penetrates even to the fluorescent-lit basement vegetarian canteen. There, kitchen staff serve up both food offerings for temple deities and delicious South Indian vegetarian dishes for cafeteria-goers. (Generally open 8:30am-9:00pm) Visitors are welcome to the Ganesha Temple, but are expected to respectfully follow temple rules (e.g. shoes are not allowed inside). The above photos were taken during ceremonies to infuse divine energy into temple statues after renovation. Before an admiring crowd, Minnie the elephant paraded to the temple as a manifestation of Lord Ganeša. On the building’s roof, priests poured holy baths of water, milk, and honey onto temple deities. * * *  Erin Chapman is co-editor of the American Guide. 
Zoom Info
GANESHA TEMPLE, QUEENS Intricately carved rooftop gopurams (towers) rise above the Ganesha Temple, soaring over the neighborhood’s detached houses, backyard kiddie pools, and Q27 bus stops. The Hindu Temple Society of North America’s Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, or Ganesha Temple in Flushing, Queens (45-57 Bowne St) is one of the nation’s oldest and largest Hindu temples, claiming more than 20,000 devotees on its rolls. It conducts daily services, holds classes and events in its community center, and hosts festival celebrations throughout the year. The Temple Society was formed in 1970, and early services were conducted in a small frame house on the site of today’s temple. A larger structure was completed in 1977 and multi-million dollar renovations in the 2000s included the installation of thousands of tons of granite carved in India by hundreds of artisans and reconstructed at the Flushing complex. Lord Ganeša, Hinduism’s elephant-headed god, is the presiding deity of the Queens temple, but more than 40 others are worshipped there, as well. “Interior spaces of American Hindu temples are designed to be more communal as compared with the intimate spaces within traditional Hindu temples,” says Mary McGee, Associate Professor of Classical Hinduism at Columbia University. On sunny mornings in the Ganesha Temple, adherents make their way to the shrines through the brilliant spears of light admitted by numerous skylights, but the sense of community in the main temple area penetrates even to the fluorescent-lit basement vegetarian canteen. There, kitchen staff serve up both food offerings for temple deities and delicious South Indian vegetarian dishes for cafeteria-goers. (Generally open 8:30am-9:00pm) Visitors are welcome to the Ganesha Temple, but are expected to respectfully follow temple rules (e.g. shoes are not allowed inside). The above photos were taken during ceremonies to infuse divine energy into temple statues after renovation. Before an admiring crowd, Minnie the elephant paraded to the temple as a manifestation of Lord Ganeša. On the building’s roof, priests poured holy baths of water, milk, and honey onto temple deities. * * *  Erin Chapman is co-editor of the American Guide. 
Zoom Info
GANESHA TEMPLE, QUEENS Intricately carved rooftop gopurams (towers) rise above the Ganesha Temple, soaring over the neighborhood’s detached houses, backyard kiddie pools, and Q27 bus stops. The Hindu Temple Society of North America’s Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, or Ganesha Temple in Flushing, Queens (45-57 Bowne St) is one of the nation’s oldest and largest Hindu temples, claiming more than 20,000 devotees on its rolls. It conducts daily services, holds classes and events in its community center, and hosts festival celebrations throughout the year. The Temple Society was formed in 1970, and early services were conducted in a small frame house on the site of today’s temple. A larger structure was completed in 1977 and multi-million dollar renovations in the 2000s included the installation of thousands of tons of granite carved in India by hundreds of artisans and reconstructed at the Flushing complex. Lord Ganeša, Hinduism’s elephant-headed god, is the presiding deity of the Queens temple, but more than 40 others are worshipped there, as well. “Interior spaces of American Hindu temples are designed to be more communal as compared with the intimate spaces within traditional Hindu temples,” says Mary McGee, Associate Professor of Classical Hinduism at Columbia University. On sunny mornings in the Ganesha Temple, adherents make their way to the shrines through the brilliant spears of light admitted by numerous skylights, but the sense of community in the main temple area penetrates even to the fluorescent-lit basement vegetarian canteen. There, kitchen staff serve up both food offerings for temple deities and delicious South Indian vegetarian dishes for cafeteria-goers. (Generally open 8:30am-9:00pm) Visitors are welcome to the Ganesha Temple, but are expected to respectfully follow temple rules (e.g. shoes are not allowed inside). The above photos were taken during ceremonies to infuse divine energy into temple statues after renovation. Before an admiring crowd, Minnie the elephant paraded to the temple as a manifestation of Lord Ganeša. On the building’s roof, priests poured holy baths of water, milk, and honey onto temple deities. * * *  Erin Chapman is co-editor of the American Guide. 
Zoom Info
GANESHA TEMPLE, QUEENS Intricately carved rooftop gopurams (towers) rise above the Ganesha Temple, soaring over the neighborhood’s detached houses, backyard kiddie pools, and Q27 bus stops. The Hindu Temple Society of North America’s Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, or Ganesha Temple in Flushing, Queens (45-57 Bowne St) is one of the nation’s oldest and largest Hindu temples, claiming more than 20,000 devotees on its rolls. It conducts daily services, holds classes and events in its community center, and hosts festival celebrations throughout the year. The Temple Society was formed in 1970, and early services were conducted in a small frame house on the site of today’s temple. A larger structure was completed in 1977 and multi-million dollar renovations in the 2000s included the installation of thousands of tons of granite carved in India by hundreds of artisans and reconstructed at the Flushing complex. Lord Ganeša, Hinduism’s elephant-headed god, is the presiding deity of the Queens temple, but more than 40 others are worshipped there, as well. “Interior spaces of American Hindu temples are designed to be more communal as compared with the intimate spaces within traditional Hindu temples,” says Mary McGee, Associate Professor of Classical Hinduism at Columbia University. On sunny mornings in the Ganesha Temple, adherents make their way to the shrines through the brilliant spears of light admitted by numerous skylights, but the sense of community in the main temple area penetrates even to the fluorescent-lit basement vegetarian canteen. There, kitchen staff serve up both food offerings for temple deities and delicious South Indian vegetarian dishes for cafeteria-goers. (Generally open 8:30am-9:00pm) Visitors are welcome to the Ganesha Temple, but are expected to respectfully follow temple rules (e.g. shoes are not allowed inside). The above photos were taken during ceremonies to infuse divine energy into temple statues after renovation. Before an admiring crowd, Minnie the elephant paraded to the temple as a manifestation of Lord Ganeša. On the building’s roof, priests poured holy baths of water, milk, and honey onto temple deities. * * *  Erin Chapman is co-editor of the American Guide. 
Zoom Info
GANESHA TEMPLE, QUEENS Intricately carved rooftop gopurams (towers) rise above the Ganesha Temple, soaring over the neighborhood’s detached houses, backyard kiddie pools, and Q27 bus stops. The Hindu Temple Society of North America’s Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, or Ganesha Temple in Flushing, Queens (45-57 Bowne St) is one of the nation’s oldest and largest Hindu temples, claiming more than 20,000 devotees on its rolls. It conducts daily services, holds classes and events in its community center, and hosts festival celebrations throughout the year. The Temple Society was formed in 1970, and early services were conducted in a small frame house on the site of today’s temple. A larger structure was completed in 1977 and multi-million dollar renovations in the 2000s included the installation of thousands of tons of granite carved in India by hundreds of artisans and reconstructed at the Flushing complex. Lord Ganeša, Hinduism’s elephant-headed god, is the presiding deity of the Queens temple, but more than 40 others are worshipped there, as well. “Interior spaces of American Hindu temples are designed to be more communal as compared with the intimate spaces within traditional Hindu temples,” says Mary McGee, Associate Professor of Classical Hinduism at Columbia University. On sunny mornings in the Ganesha Temple, adherents make their way to the shrines through the brilliant spears of light admitted by numerous skylights, but the sense of community in the main temple area penetrates even to the fluorescent-lit basement vegetarian canteen. There, kitchen staff serve up both food offerings for temple deities and delicious South Indian vegetarian dishes for cafeteria-goers. (Generally open 8:30am-9:00pm) Visitors are welcome to the Ganesha Temple, but are expected to respectfully follow temple rules (e.g. shoes are not allowed inside). The above photos were taken during ceremonies to infuse divine energy into temple statues after renovation. Before an admiring crowd, Minnie the elephant paraded to the temple as a manifestation of Lord Ganeša. On the building’s roof, priests poured holy baths of water, milk, and honey onto temple deities. * * *  Erin Chapman is co-editor of the American Guide. 
Zoom Info
GANESHA TEMPLE, QUEENS Intricately carved rooftop gopurams (towers) rise above the Ganesha Temple, soaring over the neighborhood’s detached houses, backyard kiddie pools, and Q27 bus stops. The Hindu Temple Society of North America’s Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, or Ganesha Temple in Flushing, Queens (45-57 Bowne St) is one of the nation’s oldest and largest Hindu temples, claiming more than 20,000 devotees on its rolls. It conducts daily services, holds classes and events in its community center, and hosts festival celebrations throughout the year. The Temple Society was formed in 1970, and early services were conducted in a small frame house on the site of today’s temple. A larger structure was completed in 1977 and multi-million dollar renovations in the 2000s included the installation of thousands of tons of granite carved in India by hundreds of artisans and reconstructed at the Flushing complex. Lord Ganeša, Hinduism’s elephant-headed god, is the presiding deity of the Queens temple, but more than 40 others are worshipped there, as well. “Interior spaces of American Hindu temples are designed to be more communal as compared with the intimate spaces within traditional Hindu temples,” says Mary McGee, Associate Professor of Classical Hinduism at Columbia University. On sunny mornings in the Ganesha Temple, adherents make their way to the shrines through the brilliant spears of light admitted by numerous skylights, but the sense of community in the main temple area penetrates even to the fluorescent-lit basement vegetarian canteen. There, kitchen staff serve up both food offerings for temple deities and delicious South Indian vegetarian dishes for cafeteria-goers. (Generally open 8:30am-9:00pm) Visitors are welcome to the Ganesha Temple, but are expected to respectfully follow temple rules (e.g. shoes are not allowed inside). The above photos were taken during ceremonies to infuse divine energy into temple statues after renovation. Before an admiring crowd, Minnie the elephant paraded to the temple as a manifestation of Lord Ganeša. On the building’s roof, priests poured holy baths of water, milk, and honey onto temple deities. * * *  Erin Chapman is co-editor of the American Guide. 
Zoom Info
GANESHA TEMPLE, QUEENS Intricately carved rooftop gopurams (towers) rise above the Ganesha Temple, soaring over the neighborhood’s detached houses, backyard kiddie pools, and Q27 bus stops. The Hindu Temple Society of North America’s Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, or Ganesha Temple in Flushing, Queens (45-57 Bowne St) is one of the nation’s oldest and largest Hindu temples, claiming more than 20,000 devotees on its rolls. It conducts daily services, holds classes and events in its community center, and hosts festival celebrations throughout the year. The Temple Society was formed in 1970, and early services were conducted in a small frame house on the site of today’s temple. A larger structure was completed in 1977 and multi-million dollar renovations in the 2000s included the installation of thousands of tons of granite carved in India by hundreds of artisans and reconstructed at the Flushing complex. Lord Ganeša, Hinduism’s elephant-headed god, is the presiding deity of the Queens temple, but more than 40 others are worshipped there, as well. “Interior spaces of American Hindu temples are designed to be more communal as compared with the intimate spaces within traditional Hindu temples,” says Mary McGee, Associate Professor of Classical Hinduism at Columbia University. On sunny mornings in the Ganesha Temple, adherents make their way to the shrines through the brilliant spears of light admitted by numerous skylights, but the sense of community in the main temple area penetrates even to the fluorescent-lit basement vegetarian canteen. There, kitchen staff serve up both food offerings for temple deities and delicious South Indian vegetarian dishes for cafeteria-goers. (Generally open 8:30am-9:00pm) Visitors are welcome to the Ganesha Temple, but are expected to respectfully follow temple rules (e.g. shoes are not allowed inside). The above photos were taken during ceremonies to infuse divine energy into temple statues after renovation. Before an admiring crowd, Minnie the elephant paraded to the temple as a manifestation of Lord Ganeša. On the building’s roof, priests poured holy baths of water, milk, and honey onto temple deities. * * *  Erin Chapman is co-editor of the American Guide. 
Zoom Info
GANESHA TEMPLE, QUEENS Intricately carved rooftop gopurams (towers) rise above the Ganesha Temple, soaring over the neighborhood’s detached houses, backyard kiddie pools, and Q27 bus stops. The Hindu Temple Society of North America’s Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, or Ganesha Temple in Flushing, Queens (45-57 Bowne St) is one of the nation’s oldest and largest Hindu temples, claiming more than 20,000 devotees on its rolls. It conducts daily services, holds classes and events in its community center, and hosts festival celebrations throughout the year. The Temple Society was formed in 1970, and early services were conducted in a small frame house on the site of today’s temple. A larger structure was completed in 1977 and multi-million dollar renovations in the 2000s included the installation of thousands of tons of granite carved in India by hundreds of artisans and reconstructed at the Flushing complex. Lord Ganeša, Hinduism’s elephant-headed god, is the presiding deity of the Queens temple, but more than 40 others are worshipped there, as well. “Interior spaces of American Hindu temples are designed to be more communal as compared with the intimate spaces within traditional Hindu temples,” says Mary McGee, Associate Professor of Classical Hinduism at Columbia University. On sunny mornings in the Ganesha Temple, adherents make their way to the shrines through the brilliant spears of light admitted by numerous skylights, but the sense of community in the main temple area penetrates even to the fluorescent-lit basement vegetarian canteen. There, kitchen staff serve up both food offerings for temple deities and delicious South Indian vegetarian dishes for cafeteria-goers. (Generally open 8:30am-9:00pm) Visitors are welcome to the Ganesha Temple, but are expected to respectfully follow temple rules (e.g. shoes are not allowed inside). The above photos were taken during ceremonies to infuse divine energy into temple statues after renovation. Before an admiring crowd, Minnie the elephant paraded to the temple as a manifestation of Lord Ganeša. On the building’s roof, priests poured holy baths of water, milk, and honey onto temple deities. * * *  Erin Chapman is co-editor of the American Guide. 
Zoom Info
GANESHA TEMPLE, QUEENS Intricately carved rooftop gopurams (towers) rise above the Ganesha Temple, soaring over the neighborhood’s detached houses, backyard kiddie pools, and Q27 bus stops. The Hindu Temple Society of North America’s Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, or Ganesha Temple in Flushing, Queens (45-57 Bowne St) is one of the nation’s oldest and largest Hindu temples, claiming more than 20,000 devotees on its rolls. It conducts daily services, holds classes and events in its community center, and hosts festival celebrations throughout the year. The Temple Society was formed in 1970, and early services were conducted in a small frame house on the site of today’s temple. A larger structure was completed in 1977 and multi-million dollar renovations in the 2000s included the installation of thousands of tons of granite carved in India by hundreds of artisans and reconstructed at the Flushing complex. Lord Ganeša, Hinduism’s elephant-headed god, is the presiding deity of the Queens temple, but more than 40 others are worshipped there, as well. “Interior spaces of American Hindu temples are designed to be more communal as compared with the intimate spaces within traditional Hindu temples,” says Mary McGee, Associate Professor of Classical Hinduism at Columbia University. On sunny mornings in the Ganesha Temple, adherents make their way to the shrines through the brilliant spears of light admitted by numerous skylights, but the sense of community in the main temple area penetrates even to the fluorescent-lit basement vegetarian canteen. There, kitchen staff serve up both food offerings for temple deities and delicious South Indian vegetarian dishes for cafeteria-goers. (Generally open 8:30am-9:00pm) Visitors are welcome to the Ganesha Temple, but are expected to respectfully follow temple rules (e.g. shoes are not allowed inside). The above photos were taken during ceremonies to infuse divine energy into temple statues after renovation. Before an admiring crowd, Minnie the elephant paraded to the temple as a manifestation of Lord Ganeša. On the building’s roof, priests poured holy baths of water, milk, and honey onto temple deities. * * *  Erin Chapman is co-editor of the American Guide. 
Zoom Info

GANESHA TEMPLE, QUEENS

Intricately carved rooftop gopurams (towers) rise above the Ganesha Temple, soaring over the neighborhood’s detached houses, backyard kiddie pools, and Q27 bus stops.

The Hindu Temple Society of North America’s Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, or Ganesha Temple in Flushing, Queens (45-57 Bowne St) is one of the nation’s oldest and largest Hindu temples, claiming more than 20,000 devotees on its rolls. It conducts daily services, holds classes and events in its community center, and hosts festival celebrations throughout the year.

The Temple Society was formed in 1970, and early services were conducted in a small frame house on the site of today’s temple. A larger structure was completed in 1977 and multi-million dollar renovations in the 2000s included the installation of thousands of tons of granite carved in India by hundreds of artisans and reconstructed at the Flushing complex.

Lord Ganeša, Hinduism’s elephant-headed god, is the presiding deity of the Queens temple, but more than 40 others are worshipped there, as well. “Interior spaces of American Hindu temples are designed to be more communal as compared with the intimate spaces within traditional Hindu temples,” says Mary McGee, Associate Professor of Classical Hinduism at Columbia University.

On sunny mornings in the Ganesha Temple, adherents make their way to the shrines through the brilliant spears of light admitted by numerous skylights, but the sense of community in the main temple area penetrates even to the fluorescent-lit basement vegetarian canteen. There, kitchen staff serve up both food offerings for temple deities and delicious South Indian vegetarian dishes for cafeteria-goers. (Generally open 8:30am-9:00pm)

Visitors are welcome to the Ganesha Temple, but are expected to respectfully follow temple rules (e.g. shoes are not allowed inside).

The above photos were taken during ceremonies to infuse divine energy into temple statues after renovation. Before an admiring crowd, Minnie the elephant paraded to the temple as a manifestation of Lord Ganeša. On the building’s roof, priests poured holy baths of water, milk, and honey onto temple deities.

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Erin Chapman is co-editor of the American Guide. 

ROADSIDE RELIGION Alabama is a state in which more than 90 percent of its citizens believe in God. North of Birmingham, on I-65, it’s easy to see you’re deep in the Bible Belt. Religion is everywhere. Roadsides, gas stations, car washes, bumper stickers, churches. You’re always a stone’s throw from someone or something telling you about the Lord.  Summer afternoons I’d spend hours driving the roads between Birmingham and Huntsville. Driving the small highways that go through Warrior and Jasper. Hanceville and Good Hope. You see one sign, then suddenly you can’t stop seeing them. Around every corner you’ll find one nailed to a tree. All hand-painted, exclaiming “Help Us God To Do Your Work Everyday” and “Praise God and Jesus Please.” * * * Michael McCraw is a State Guide to Georgia and an At-Large Guide to the Southeast. He’s a photographer who’s spent his whole life in the South and when he’s not photographing or writing you can find him with his family or stocking shelves at his work. Follow his work on Tumblr or at his website.  
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ROADSIDE RELIGION Alabama is a state in which more than 90 percent of its citizens believe in God. North of Birmingham, on I-65, it’s easy to see you’re deep in the Bible Belt. Religion is everywhere. Roadsides, gas stations, car washes, bumper stickers, churches. You’re always a stone’s throw from someone or something telling you about the Lord.  Summer afternoons I’d spend hours driving the roads between Birmingham and Huntsville. Driving the small highways that go through Warrior and Jasper. Hanceville and Good Hope. You see one sign, then suddenly you can’t stop seeing them. Around every corner you’ll find one nailed to a tree. All hand-painted, exclaiming “Help Us God To Do Your Work Everyday” and “Praise God and Jesus Please.” * * * Michael McCraw is a State Guide to Georgia and an At-Large Guide to the Southeast. He’s a photographer who’s spent his whole life in the South and when he’s not photographing or writing you can find him with his family or stocking shelves at his work. Follow his work on Tumblr or at his website.  
Zoom
ROADSIDE RELIGION Alabama is a state in which more than 90 percent of its citizens believe in God. North of Birmingham, on I-65, it’s easy to see you’re deep in the Bible Belt. Religion is everywhere. Roadsides, gas stations, car washes, bumper stickers, churches. You’re always a stone’s throw from someone or something telling you about the Lord.  Summer afternoons I’d spend hours driving the roads between Birmingham and Huntsville. Driving the small highways that go through Warrior and Jasper. Hanceville and Good Hope. You see one sign, then suddenly you can’t stop seeing them. Around every corner you’ll find one nailed to a tree. All hand-painted, exclaiming “Help Us God To Do Your Work Everyday” and “Praise God and Jesus Please.” * * * Michael McCraw is a State Guide to Georgia and an At-Large Guide to the Southeast. He’s a photographer who’s spent his whole life in the South and when he’s not photographing or writing you can find him with his family or stocking shelves at his work. Follow his work on Tumblr or at his website.  
Zoom
ROADSIDE RELIGION Alabama is a state in which more than 90 percent of its citizens believe in God. North of Birmingham, on I-65, it’s easy to see you’re deep in the Bible Belt. Religion is everywhere. Roadsides, gas stations, car washes, bumper stickers, churches. You’re always a stone’s throw from someone or something telling you about the Lord.  Summer afternoons I’d spend hours driving the roads between Birmingham and Huntsville. Driving the small highways that go through Warrior and Jasper. Hanceville and Good Hope. You see one sign, then suddenly you can’t stop seeing them. Around every corner you’ll find one nailed to a tree. All hand-painted, exclaiming “Help Us God To Do Your Work Everyday” and “Praise God and Jesus Please.” * * * Michael McCraw is a State Guide to Georgia and an At-Large Guide to the Southeast. He’s a photographer who’s spent his whole life in the South and when he’s not photographing or writing you can find him with his family or stocking shelves at his work. Follow his work on Tumblr or at his website.  
Zoom
ROADSIDE RELIGION Alabama is a state in which more than 90 percent of its citizens believe in God. North of Birmingham, on I-65, it’s easy to see you’re deep in the Bible Belt. Religion is everywhere. Roadsides, gas stations, car washes, bumper stickers, churches. You’re always a stone’s throw from someone or something telling you about the Lord.  Summer afternoons I’d spend hours driving the roads between Birmingham and Huntsville. Driving the small highways that go through Warrior and Jasper. Hanceville and Good Hope. You see one sign, then suddenly you can’t stop seeing them. Around every corner you’ll find one nailed to a tree. All hand-painted, exclaiming “Help Us God To Do Your Work Everyday” and “Praise God and Jesus Please.” * * * Michael McCraw is a State Guide to Georgia and an At-Large Guide to the Southeast. He’s a photographer who’s spent his whole life in the South and when he’s not photographing or writing you can find him with his family or stocking shelves at his work. Follow his work on Tumblr or at his website.  
Zoom
ROADSIDE RELIGION Alabama is a state in which more than 90 percent of its citizens believe in God. North of Birmingham, on I-65, it’s easy to see you’re deep in the Bible Belt. Religion is everywhere. Roadsides, gas stations, car washes, bumper stickers, churches. You’re always a stone’s throw from someone or something telling you about the Lord.  Summer afternoons I’d spend hours driving the roads between Birmingham and Huntsville. Driving the small highways that go through Warrior and Jasper. Hanceville and Good Hope. You see one sign, then suddenly you can’t stop seeing them. Around every corner you’ll find one nailed to a tree. All hand-painted, exclaiming “Help Us God To Do Your Work Everyday” and “Praise God and Jesus Please.” * * * Michael McCraw is a State Guide to Georgia and an At-Large Guide to the Southeast. He’s a photographer who’s spent his whole life in the South and when he’s not photographing or writing you can find him with his family or stocking shelves at his work. Follow his work on Tumblr or at his website.  
Zoom

ROADSIDE RELIGION

Alabama is a state in which more than 90 percent of its citizens believe in God. North of Birmingham, on I-65, it’s easy to see you’re deep in the Bible Belt. Religion is everywhere. Roadsides, gas stations, car washes, bumper stickers, churches. You’re always a stone’s throw from someone or something telling you about the Lord.  Summer afternoons I’d spend hours driving the roads between Birmingham and Huntsville. Driving the small highways that go through Warrior and Jasper. Hanceville and Good Hope. You see one sign, then suddenly you can’t stop seeing them. Around every corner you’ll find one nailed to a tree. All hand-painted, exclaiming “Help Us God To Do Your Work Everyday” and “Praise God and Jesus Please.”

* * *

Michael McCraw is a State Guide to Georgia and an At-Large Guide to the Southeast. He’s a photographer who’s spent his whole life in the South and when he’s not photographing or writing you can find him with his family or stocking shelves at his work. Follow his work on Tumblr or at his website.  

Follow your guide to a church basement bowling alley in St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s the St. Francis Bowling Center, where players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.”  Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after quitting time get togethers (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and 90s. Though, you’ll be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. This is one of those times you say to yourself: “Only in America.” Photo Credit: Katie Howie and Marianne McNamara     
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Follow your guide to a church basement bowling alley in St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s the St. Francis Bowling Center, where players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.”  Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after quitting time get togethers (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and 90s. Though, you’ll be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. This is one of those times you say to yourself: “Only in America.” Photo Credit: Katie Howie and Marianne McNamara     
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Follow your guide to a church basement bowling alley in St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s the St. Francis Bowling Center, where players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.”  Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after quitting time get togethers (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and 90s. Though, you’ll be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. This is one of those times you say to yourself: “Only in America.” Photo Credit: Katie Howie and Marianne McNamara     
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Follow your guide to a church basement bowling alley in St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s the St. Francis Bowling Center, where players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.”  Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after quitting time get togethers (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and 90s. Though, you’ll be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. This is one of those times you say to yourself: “Only in America.” Photo Credit: Katie Howie and Marianne McNamara     
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Follow your guide to a church basement bowling alley in St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s the St. Francis Bowling Center, where players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.”  Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after quitting time get togethers (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and 90s. Though, you’ll be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. This is one of those times you say to yourself: “Only in America.” Photo Credit: Katie Howie and Marianne McNamara     
Zoom Info
Follow your guide to a church basement bowling alley in St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s the St. Francis Bowling Center, where players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.”  Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after quitting time get togethers (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and 90s. Though, you’ll be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. This is one of those times you say to yourself: “Only in America.” Photo Credit: Katie Howie and Marianne McNamara     
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Follow your guide to a church basement bowling alley in St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s the St. Francis Bowling Center, where players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.”  Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after quitting time get togethers (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and 90s. Though, you’ll be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. This is one of those times you say to yourself: “Only in America.” Photo Credit: Katie Howie and Marianne McNamara     
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Follow your guide to a church basement bowling alley in St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s the St. Francis Bowling Center, where players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.”  Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after quitting time get togethers (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and 90s. Though, you’ll be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. This is one of those times you say to yourself: “Only in America.” Photo Credit: Katie Howie and Marianne McNamara     
Zoom Info
Follow your guide to a church basement bowling alley in St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s the St. Francis Bowling Center, where players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.”  Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after quitting time get togethers (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar). Most started closing down in the 1980s and 90s. Though, you’ll be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer. This is one of those times you say to yourself: “Only in America.” Photo Credit: Katie Howie and Marianne McNamara     
Zoom Info

Follow your guide to a church basement bowling alley in St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s the St. Francis Bowling Center, where players are asked to “be courteous and respectful to other players by using appropriate, Christian behavior.” 

Once common across the Midwest and parts of the Northeast, there are less than 200 church bowling lanes left in America today. German immigrants started building these holy alleys in the 1860s as meeting places and moral refuges for wholesome, after quitting time get togethers (i.e. to keep family breadwinners from blowing their paychecks at the bar).

Most started closing down in the 1980s and 90s. Though, you’ll be glad to know, some of the church lanes that are left now sell beer.

This is one of those times you say to yourself: “Only in America.”

Photo Credit: Katie Howie and Marianne McNamara