What secrets do North and South Brother Islands keep? These two small islands, nestled in New York City’s East River, hold a captivating history. North and South Brother Islands, once called “De Gesellen” or “the companions,” were claimed by the Dutch West India Company in 1614. Now, standing here, gazing at their shores, we can almost feel the echoes of their past.
North Brother Island, larger of the two at 20 acres, was uninhabited until 1885. Then, Riverside Hospital, originally a smallpox hospital, relocated there. It later expanded to treat other quarantinable diseases like typhoid, smallpox, and tuberculosis. The island became a refuge, a place of quarantine and healing, but also a place of tragedy. In 1904, the General Slocum steamship caught fire and beached on North Brother Island, claiming over 1,000 lives. The hospital staff bravely worked to rescue survivors, but the island’s shores became a temporary morgue for the victims.
North Brother Island also housed a famous, or perhaps infamous, resident: Typhoid Mary. Mary Mallon, a cook who unknowingly spread typhoid fever, was confined to the island for over two decades until her death in 1938. Her story, a blend of tragedy and public health concern, is forever intertwined with the island’s history. The hospital closed shortly after her death. After World War II, the island briefly housed war veterans and their families, then became a drug rehabilitation center in the 1950s before being abandoned in 1963.
South Brother Island, a mere 6 acres, has a different tale to tell. Once a dumping ground in the mid-19th century, it later became a baseball haven. Jacob Ruppert, owner of the New York Yankees, built baseball fields here in the 1890s, even hosting the Cuban Giants, a prominent Black baseball team. A fire destroyed his summer home on the island in 1909, and it’s been largely uninhabited since. Although rumors place Babe Ruth hitting balls into the East River from the island, it was mostly abandoned by that time.
Today, both North and South Brother Islands are a wildlife sanctuary, home to various bird species. While public access is restricted, their stories continue to echo in the city’s memory. They stand as reminders of a complex past, a blend of tragedy and resilience, healing and isolation, all hidden within the currents of the East River. They are islands of secrets, whispering stories to those who listen closely.