I've probably said the name "Fulton" more than any other in my lifetime. It stretched from downtown Brooklyn all the way to my neighborhood of Cypress Hills where it ended before getting cut off by Rockaway Parkway in Woodhaven, Queens. It's the street where I had lunch at Mike's Pizzeria. The street where I played the Marvel vs. Capcom 2 arcade cabinet for the first time at Fulton Family (RIP). The J train still rolls along this street above ground so you can see the steady changes to the neighborhood creep in over time as you ride through. A lot has changed since this picture was taken in 2009, but some things never seem to change. Cypress Hills is still a vibrant immigrant community despite the rampant gentrification over the past 15 years. In 2022, it's one of the last vestiges of the NYC I remember living through in the 80s and 90s. Out of the hundreds or thousands of shots we took, this one came out the best in my opinion. It captures a vital piece of my life. My hood. And there's nothing quite as representative of my hood as Fulton St. itself. It's dingy, dirty, and sometimes dangerous. The train tracks block most of the sun as the J train shrieks and creeks around the turn at Crescent St. The hustle and bustle of people going to work and shopping. The pastelito salesmen and women who kept us fed on the cheap. The macho dudes on the corner bullshitting. The hot Latina women with the big booties. "Fulton" was, and is, the spot. The main artery feeding life into Cypress Hills, Brooklyn.
Dimensions: 1936 x 1288
