What of those ghostly catacombs that lie dormant below city streets? Those subway tunnels, never finished, never filled with the screeches of trains and the busy commotion of commuters. Just there. Dead. You've heard of the subway's demise. The tunnels were too narrow. The city was too broke. A grand miscalculation. Well, most of what you've heard is, sorry to say, untrue. The popular story of the subway's demise is myth-laden and as incomplete as the original plan. The full story, long buried in mounds of public records dispersed in libraries, is now revealed. Local author Jacob R. Mecklenborg emerges from those dusty tomes with a fresh, thought-provoking, full examination of the subway's demise and what its future might hold.

Cincinnati emerged from a tumultuous 19th century as a growing metropolis committed to city planning. The most ambitious plan of the early twentieth century, the Cincinnati Subway, was doomed to failure. Construction began in 1920 and ended in 1927 when the money had run out. Today, two miles of empty subway tunnels still lie beneath Cincinnati, waiting to be used. The Cincinnati Subway tells the whole story, from the turbulent times in the 1880s to the ultimate failure of "Cincinnati's White Elephant." Along the way, the reader will learn about what was happening in Cincinnati during the growth of the subway-from the Courthouse Riots in 1884 to life in the Queen City during World War II.

Staten Island's first railroad began in 1860 as a passenger line connecting towns along the island's eastern shore, with ferry service from Vanderbilt's Landing to Manhattan. The Staten Island Rapid Transit was a second line, built in 1885. During the 19th century, major eastern trunk railroads competed for the New York freight market. The Baltimore & Ohio Railroad (B&O) was a latecomer but saw opportunity with Staten Island in 1886, buying interest in both railroads. The B&O took control of the island's passenger service and turned it into a thriving commuter railroad with three branches and nearly 40 stations, forever changing transportation in the borough. Reaching Staten Island from Cranford, New Jersey, the B&O built a major freight yard at Arlington and a waterfront terminal at St. George. The railroad's customers ran the gamut from large industries like Procter & Gamble to small one-carload coal dealerships. By 1971, the cash-strapped B&O sold the passenger service to the New York City Transit Authority (NYCTA), and by 1985, the B&O had left New York for good.

"Cincinnati Streetcar Heritage is a photographic essay of the Cincinnati, Ohio streetcar system. Cincinnati's first electric streetcar line was the conversion of the Mt. Adams & Eden Park Inclined Railway Company cable car line to electric operation in 1888, which became part of the Cincinnati Street Railway Company in 1896. Because of concern over corrosion of underground conduits and water pipes, Cincinnati's streetcar lines were required to have a double overhead wire within city limits. Cincinnati, along with Merrill, Wisconsin, and Havana, Cuba, were the only streetcar systems in North America with a double overhead wire system. Two open observation streetcars were placed in sightseeing service during 1939. The only Presidents' Conference Committee (PCC) cars ever built with two trolley poles were operated in Cincinnati. Although Cincinnati's streetcars made their last run in 1951, the Toronto Transit Commission purchased 52 of Cincinnati's PCC cars with the last one taken out of service in 1982. Cincinnati Streetcar Heritage documents the city's streetcar era, including the Cincinnati Bell Connector streetcar line which opened in 2016, linking downtown Cincinnati with the Over the Rhine neighborhood"--Back cover.

A richly illustrated story of public transit in one of America’s most historic cities, from public ferry and horse-drawn carriage to the MBTA. A lively tour of public transportation in Boston over the years, Boston in Transit maps the complete history of the modes of transportation that have kept the city moving and expanding since its founding in 1630—from the simple ferry serving an English settlement to the expansive network of the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority, or MBTA. The story of public transit in Boston—once dubbed the Hub of the Universe—is a journey through the history of the American metropolis. With a remarkable collection of maps and architectural and engineering drawings at hand, Steven Beaucher launches his account from the landing where English colonists established that first ferry, carrying passengers between what is now Boston’s North End and Charlestown—and sparing them what had been a two-day walk around Boston Harbor. In the 1700s, horse-drawn coaches appeared on the scene, connecting Boston and Cambridge, with the bigger, better Omnibus soon to follow. From horse-drawn coaches, horse-drawn railways evolved, making way for the electric streetcar networks that allowed the city’s early suburbs to sprout—culminating in the multimodal, regional public transportation network in place in Boston today. With photographs, brochures, pamphlets, guidebooks, timetables, and tickets, Boston in Transit creates a complete picture of the everyday experience of public transportation through the centuries. At once a practical reference, local history, and travelogue, this book will be cherished by armchair tourists, day-trippers, and serious travelers alike.

Long before folks had a television set and radio in every room, they sought entertainment by stepping out for a night on the town. The choices around Cincinnati were nearly limitless: live theater at the Cox; spectacular musicals at the Shubert; hotels featuring fine dining and dance orchestras; talking pictures at everyoneA[a¬a[s favorite movie palaceA[a¬athe Albee; burlesque and vaudeville shows at the Empress Theater on Vine Street; and gambling casinos were just a short drive across the river in Newport. All of the major entertainment venues in the Queen City during the first half of the 20th century are explored in Stepping out in Cincinnati. From saloons to ornate movie palaces and from the Cotton Club to the Capitol, you join those pleasure seekers, getting a real sense of what they saw: wonderful events and their countless imagesA[a¬athe things of which fond memories were made. Today, those memories have faded and virtually all of the once-glittering showplaces have been bulldozed into history. But within these pages, we get to experience first hand what it was like to be there. Unique among the many photographs featuring unforgettable movie houses and nightclub orchestras are never-before-published images of actual live vaudeville performances onstage at the Shubert, plus rare, clandestine pictures snapped inside the casinos in Newport. Also revealed are the locations of the better-known speakeasies during Prohibition; where the best halls to dance to live orchestras were; what the earliest movie houses were like; and what black Cincinnatians did for entertainment.

Cincinnati earned its nickname of "Queen City of the West" with a wealth of fine theaters and hotels, a burgeoning brewery district and the birth of professional baseball. Though many of these treasures have vanished, they left an indelible mark on the city. Revisit the favorite locales from old Coney Island to Crosley Field. Celebrate lost gems, such as the palatial Albee Theater and the historic Burnet House, where Generals Grant and Sherman plotted the end of the Civil War. Along the way, author Jeff Suess uncovers some uniquely Cincinnati quirks from the inclines and the canal to the infamous incomplete subway. Join Suess as he delves into the mystery and legacy of Cincinnati's lost landmarks.

Hidden down alleyways, on street corners or on the bricks above the cityscape, Cincinnati's fading advertisements hide in plain sight. These ghost signs still tout their wares and services, remnants of a bygone era. Each sign has a vivid story behind it unique to its era, product and craftsmanship. "Wall dogs" like sign artist Gus Holthaus left their marks on the city. A sign for the Beehive, the club and restaurant at the top of the arena, reminds residents of Cincinnati's pro hockey team, the Stingers. Not many can remember "the Other Place," but a hand-painted advertisement still adorns a city wall. Join author and photographer Ronny Salerno for a tour of Cincinnati's vanishing signs and their intriguing history.