My late father (1912-2009) stated that years ago there were street vendors who specialized in replacing broken laundry lines. They were wiry-looking fellows who would climb the pole for a fee.

They would walk down the streets crying “Lines up! Lines up!” while also keeping an eye out for apartments that needed their services.

Au contraire, Fathead. Of my last five apartments in Brooklyn all had laundry poles in the backyards; two were still being used for their intended purpose. Most you see are just rusty reminders of by-gone years. But you have to actually look: like telephone poles and electric lines, they are so prevalent you no longer even see them.

1938 Chevrolet Standard sedan at the curb.

-- on the other side of that wall!

But the building on the left remains intact.

Something you won't see on the city landscape any longer. Growing up in the Bronx seeing our laundry flapping in the breeze out our kitchen window was a usual sight. Now we have specially scented fabric softener to imitate the fresh clean scent.