Fort Greene
Brooklyn
For the past four or five
years a friend of mine has been trying to get me to go to the annual blowing of
the steam whistles from the Pratt Institute’s steam engine room. It always
sounded like a terrible idea to me: standing outside in the freezing cold at
midnight listening to some whistles. But an impending move to Manhattan caused
me to change my mind this year; I certainly wouldn’t ever go if it meant a
late-night train ride into Brooklyn! And, of course, the friend who always
wanted to go spent this particular New Year’s in Florida.
As someone who attended
Pratt, I can safely tell you that the steam engine room is one of the very few
redeeming things about the once illustrious school. It is a designated National
Mechanical Engineering Landmark—did you even know such honors existed? The
steam driven generators are the oldest of their kind being operated in the
northeast area of the United States. The engine room is also a favorite hangout
of the many Pratt cats (another one of Pratt's few redeeming qualities), particularly during the winter as the place is always
quite warm.
While the engine room has
been chugging along since the school’s founding in 1887, the Pratt New Year’s
Eve Whistle Blow tradition was started in the 1960s by the school’s chief
engineer, Conrad Milster. Every year he breaks out the old steam whistles and
plays various melodies (or, more accurately, attempts to) on the various pipes.
The larger ones, however, are mainly good for making lots of steam and noise. Apparently
(and as someone who went to Pratt I do not find this at all surprising) he
single-handedly turned the engine room into a museum with little to no support
from the school administration. The musical tunes are played on 32-note steam
calliope that Milster constructed himself out of three-inch steel pipes. Some
years he manages to get special whistles for the event, like in 2006 he had the
whistle from the SS Normandie, a famous liner that capsized at a Manhattan pier
during WWII.
The musical festivities
start around 11pm. They can be heard from blocks away. To describe how the
whistles sound on campus, the words “shrill,” “piercing,” and “deafening” come
to mind. Milster seems to be particularly fond of the smaller whistles’ higher registers.
Despite having entire lower registers to work with, he used the sharper ones
during his attempts at “Heart and Soul” and “Auld Lang Syne.” Earplugs are
definitely recommended.
The whistles draw a
surprisingly large crowd, many with festive hats, sparklers, and bottles of
champagne. I had heard reports that some spectators like to dress up in period
garb, but did not see anyone dressed as such last night. To, of course, my
great disappointment.
There is no countdown or
build-up to the actual midnight steam blow that sends plumes of smoke billowing
several stories up into the air. This felt a bit anticlimactic, but in the
whistles’ defense, I find New Year’s to be a very anticlimactic holiday in
general. Most of the other revelers on campus seemed fairly excited, though,
they did have fireworks and drink, two things I did not.
Engineering and machinist
nerds will particularly enjoy this event; I stumbled on some machinist discussion
boards discussing this and they were quite excited about the different
whistles Milster has accumulated over the years. Reading their descriptions of
the engineer room was like reading machinist porn. They were also thoroughly
disgusted by people who don’t know enough to fully appreciate the beautiful
music created by these whistles—a performance he once gave at South Street
Seaport was cut short because people complained about the noise. Philistines.
I am glad I went, though,
if only to say I’ve been there and know what all the fuss is about. If you live
in the area and it’s not too chilly and you’re not doing anything else, I’d say
give it a go. But, seriously, unless you're a steam whistle fanatic, bring earplugs. They're really loud.
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