Nearly 40 years ago I went on what was essentially the first Backside of American expedition. A senior at New Hampshire's Keene State College, I walked around the downtown one night with two friends, singing, playing music, bantering, emgaging with strangers, checking out the back lots of the town (see October 6, 2019, "Remembering a Foundational Moment").
Since that time, I've had a fascination with the hidden parts of small towns and big cities, the places where the rats and riff-raff go. For quite a few years, I've wanted to explore the public alleys of Boston. Last fall, I did my first proper adventure in the city's Back Bay neighborhood (see February 1, 2025, "Sneakin' Sally Through Boston's Alleys"). Earlier this year, I returned to the Back Bay for another foray.
I started at the eastern end of Public Alley 421, which is off Arlington Street, directly across from the Public Garden. It runs between Marlborough and Beacon streets. As I mentioned in the first alley dispatch, the Back Bay is a fairly posh area. Even the parking spaces are architecturally wonderful.
I crossed Berkeley Street and into Public Alley 420. Where that alley meets Clarendon Street, I was inspired by a steam release.
The exhaust was coming from Hale House, a residential home for senior citizens located in a building named for Edwart Everett Hale, a Boston author, historian and minister. "Hale House was once the home of the historian and writer Henry Adams, grandson of President John Quincy Adams," per the Hale House web site. "In 1896, the Massachusetts Audubon Society was founded by Bostonians Harriet Lawrence Hemenway and her cousin Minna B. Hall, in the parlor of the house."
Continuing along, I was in Public Alley 419 when I spied the rear of 237 Beacon Street. Something about the hand-written house number just looked good to me.
I was also quite taken by the tall, skinny building facing onto Marlborough Street.
In Alley #418, I found a nice little scene asking for neighborly etiquette.
I hear Emily Post was big into the whole No Dumping movement.
I don't traverse back alleys looking for great architecture, although sometimes I do find some. What I tend to look for is little scenes that you wouldn't necessarily expect to find in a neighborhood like the Back Bay.
Obviously there is renovation afoot. But that white "X" on a red background essentially cautions first responders it's not safe to enter. I see that sign all over the place, usually on long-abandoned properties.
Why is there a lawnmower?
In Alley #417, I saw the first of two basketball hoops. This one is pretty sweet.
Great architecture, no. But cool details - yes.
And more etiquette lessons.
OK, great architecture, too.
I love this little building. I believe it was brought into the world in 1919, whereas the main buliding it sits behind rose in 1888. It's a tiny house for the post-World War I generation.
The scene below could be the cover for Urban Slacker Design weekly.
The photo below makes me wonder whether some tenant along this public alley descends the fire escape ladder to illegally dispose of rubbish.
Eventually I crossed Massachusetts Avenue and into Public Alley #908. I'm not sure why the system goes from #414 to #908. I saw another basketball hoop.
And then the back entrance to 531 Beacon Street.
The apartment building features studios, 1- and 2-bedroom units, with rents starting at $2,300 a month.
At this point, the alley makes a sharp curve to the south and toward Marlborough Street. I found the mix of buildings at this point quite pleasant.
I walked east on Marlborough Street for a minute before ducking into Public Alley #905. There, I saw a scene reminiscent of the old-timey days....and of the second photo in this post.
And then an odd little door.
At first I assumed this was another old coal-delivery entry point. But then I realized that this door used to be bigger before it was partially bricked up. I crossed back over Mass. Ave. and into Public Alley #429. I don't remember which alley I was in when I saw the industrial yellow locker featured below. This was the second set of lockers I've seen on my back-alley wanderings.
Whereas the locker was neat and secure, the barrels below look gross and dangerous. Perfect for a back alley!
I continued on through Public Alleys 428-423, enjoying seeing other folks using the alleys, and appreciating the relative peace and quiet. Not much caught my eye until the gorgeous fire escape seen below.
The congregation traces its history to 1839. The building dates to 1959.
My final shot was of a lovely old brick and sandstone home directly across the alley from the church.
Known as the Samuel Hooper House, this Commonwealth Avenue residence rose in 1861, from a design by Arthur Gilman and Gridley J.F. Bryant. "The house itself is one of the most elegant examples of the Second Empire style in Boston, with octagonal bays projecting up into the mansard roof," according to this Society of Architectural Historians write-up.
Gilman "advocated filling in the Back Bay district, urging this plan for years before his views were carried out by the state," according to Wikipedia. "Here Gridley James Fox Bryant was his colleague. Commonwealth Avenue, now one of the finest streets in the world, is due almost entirely to his persistent efforts, along with Frederick Law Olmsted. Gilman designed the H. H. Hunnewell house (1851) in Wellesley (then West Needham) and, with Bryant, the Old City Hall in Boston (1862–65).
That's a wrap on public alleys for now. I will explore more later this year for sure.
There may be another song about furtively walking through the narrow back streets of a city, but I don't know of it. Robert Palmer's cornered the market in my mind, so that's the soundtrack and headline inspiration for this post about my initial exploration of a few of Boston's many public alleys. I hope to check out more as time goes on, as I am fascinated by these perfect embodiments of the backside of America.
After checking out a Boston Open Market adjacent to Boston Common on a beautiful early October Saturday, I set off to roam nearby and within a minute found myself standing in front of Public Alley 438, just north of the Arlington Street Church in Back Bay. I've walked through some of Boston's alleys before, sometimes in service of this blog, other times just for the hell of it. And for a while I've had it in my head to do a more thorough survey of them and write about them here.
So, I figured as I stood there peering into the shadows, what better time than now, with no other plan in mind for the afternoon?
The first thing that caught my eye as I strolled along this alley, which runs behind buildings on both Boylston and Newbury streets, was perhaps the ideal siting of the day.
Brooks Brothers is a storied American luxury clothing brand. Founded in 1818 in Manhattan, the retail chain has grown to include more around 150 stores worldwide, down from a high of more than 200 before the company declared bankruptcy a few years ago.
When I think of rich people, I think of Brooks Brothers. I'm sure that would swell the heart of any man wearing a Classic Fit Patch Pocket Sport Coat in Wide-Wale Cotton Corduroy. But I also love a nice contrast, such as a faded-and-amateur printed sign on a small back-alley door for one of the world's premier fashion outlets. This small, rusty and rather secure-looking door is at the rear of 46 Newbury Street, where Brooks Brothers once was located. The Boston store currently occupies 109 Newbury Street.
There are a lot of these types of small doors in Boston's public alleys, some at ground level like this one, others raised up quite a bit higher as we'll see further down this post. They were likely used for deliveries of coal or ice and other products in use in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
When I hit Berkeley Street, where Public Alley 438 ends, I walked north across Newbury Street and then headed east in Public Alley 437. This narrow way runs parallel to Newbury Street and Commonwealth Avenue, and, like most of the other alleys I traversed, is where people who live in this high-priced district park their cars. This alley also faces the rear end of Emmanuel Church in the City of Boston.
The church was consecrated in 1862 and was the first building completed on Newbury Street. It's a beautiful and historic house of worship, but alas, it's not perfect.
I'll forgive that small blemish, especially in light of the fact that the most adorable door I saw on this tour leads into the church.
This small door leads to the Puppeteers Collaborative and Puppet Library, which were founded in 1976 by Sara Peattie and the late George Konoff, according to this article in The Hungtington News, which is an independent student newspaper at Boston's Northeastern University.
I love that the door is child-sized, and I smile when I think of adults stooping to get into the workshop.
I didn't go to the end of this alley, as it leads under The Newbury Boston, a luxury hotel, and all I saw was a loading dock and some dumpsters. I doubled back across Berkeley Street and found myself looking at a lovely little detail on the rear of the Church of the Covenant, while standing in Public Alley 436.
Built in 1867, the church "includes 42 large Tiffany windows, a gigantic glass lantern, rare Tiffany glass mosaics, complex paint schemes, elaborate trusses and traceries, a bronze chancel rail, organ screens, decorative wainscoting, chancel furniture, a eagle lectern, a pulpit, pews, a baptismal font," per its web site.
I'd love to get inside some day to see that. But that little basement window underneath a back exit, next to a garbage can, looks pretty damn good to me, too.
So let's take a break to learn about these public alleys. There are a lot of them; the more I look at Google Maps, the more of them I find. There are also private alleys. Most, if not all, of them originally served the same purpose: as entry points for deliveries of coal, ice, food supplies and who knows what else (guns? love letters? banned books? alcohol during Prohibition?). They are located in neighborhoods where the buildings date to the mid-19th century through the early 20th.
"Originally, all of the alleys were private, with each property owner owning the land to the middle of the passageway and each deed containing easements for common passage and drainage by the owners of the other lots on the block," according to this Back Bay Houses article. "As private property, the alleys were the responsibility of the owners, not the city, to maintain. Inattention and inability to reach agreement among the owners about maintenance led to significant deterioration. In the 1890s, the poor maintenance and condition of the alleys became a matter of increasing public concern.
"In 1898, the Massachusetts Legislature granted the City of Boston the authority to take jurisdiction over alleys 25 feet or less in width....The City subsequently designated all but three alleys in the residential portion of the Back Bay as public alleys and took responsibility for their maintenance," the article continues. This designation holds for public alleys in other parts of the city.
Today, the alleys, many of which are about 16 feet wide, lead to residential parking and, in some cases, entry points into apartments and condominiums. Restaurants have large trash bins in some of the alleys, which means there are of course rats scurrying around. I imagine flooding is a problem in some of them.
I didn't see any members of the Rattus norvegicus family on this tour, but I did see chained-up bicycles, idling food-delivery scooters, other folks ambling along, back windows into expensive shops and much more. I imagine the alleys see their share of drug-dealing and prostitution in certain areas, as well as quirky middle-aged men making photos of rusty fire escapes, odd doorways and church windows.
OK, let's get back to the sites.
Where Public Alley 436 meets Clarendon Street, I made a photo of a back gate and a lovely trio of windows.
This is the rectory of nearby Trinity Church. The building dates to 1880 and was designed by architecture giant H.H. Richardson, per Wikipedia. I featured this building in a post nearly five years ago about this area of Boston (see March 11, 2020, "A Walk Through Boston's Back Bay & Copley Square").
I continued west down Public Alley 435 and there, across from a trio of what are likely very expensive parking spaces, and a garage with a fenced patio on top (some real money here...), I was happy to see a side alley with garbage cans and other signs of the back of a restaurant.
I love skirting the edges of society, where different cultures, lifestyles, economic positions and ways of life clash. That's what I liked most about exploring the alleys of the ritzy area of Back Bay: lots of money in the parking spots and condos and private gardens and shops and restaurants. But a different reality, in the form of garbage, smelly puddles, rat traps, dark corners and hidden history stands right there, too.
I crossed Dartmouth Street and near the western end of Public Alley 434, I saw some Mexican pride hanging in a window at the rear of 184 Commonwealth Avenue.
In a few steps I was agog at one of my favorite buildings in Boston: the First Spiritual Temple at the corner of Exeter and Newbury Streets. Even standing in the shadows of an alley, with little room to step back, look up and take in all the grandeur of Hartwell and Richardson's creation, I was in awe.
I crossed Exeter Street and headed down Public Alley 433. I dug the very non-chic back entrance to 208 Commonwealth Avenue, where condos run in excess of $700,000.
At the intersection of Fairfield Street and Public Alley 432 is a lovely building known historically as the Asa Potter house. I was hypnotized by the fire escapes.
The house was completed in 1877 and had one of the first residential elevators in the Back Bay, per this article at Back Bay Houses.
A short distance west along the alley and I encountered a tableau of colors too lovely to ignore.
This is the back door to La Neta Pinche Taco Shop, at 255 Newbury Street. There's so much going on in this scene: the blue trash bin contrasting with the white linen box; the yellow cage for propane tanks bumping against the white barrels; the green trash bin anchoring the right side; the boxes and plastic storage containers filled with ingredients; the scooter that an employee might have ridden to work. All of these items tell stories about the food industry that most customers don't see or think about.
Speaking of the food industry....
Across Gloucester Street, at the east end of Public Alley 431, is Casa Romero, a Mexican restaurant that's been in business since 1972. When I posted this photo on Instagram, a few of my followers vouched for the eatery's excellence. This place has to be good, considering its alleyway entrance.
Continuing across Hereford Street and into Public Alley 430, I came across one of the more decadent elements I've seen in the Back Bay.
What this not-so-great photo is showing you is part of an extensive roof deck/parking garage/covered parking structure that stretches behind several Commonwealth Avenue buildings, some of which are ivy-covered. I tried to find out more about this feature, but was unable to do so. If anyone knows about it, please share.
Just before the western end of Public Alley 430 at Massachusetts Avenue, the combination of window reflection, peeling paint (ironic considering this is at the rear of a Johnson Paint store) and some scuffed-up brick spoke to me.
I headed south on Mass. Ave., unsure exactly where I would find my next alley, although I knew there were plenty of options. I went east on Boylston Street, then past the beautiful pair of buildings occupied by Boston Architectural College and Boston Fire Department's Ladder 15 and Engine 33 companies, and turned north on Hereford Street. And boom - Public Alley 444 to my left.
The small brick building in the foreground may have been a stable or firehouse in its original incarnation, based on its front facade. The Brutalist building looming in the background is the primary home of the previously mentioned architectural college (I believe the shorter brick building is also part of that institution). The six-story concrete block, which was completed in 1966, was designed by Ashley, Meyer & Associates. The 50-foot architectural trompe l'oeil mural seen here from the alley was painted on the west elevation in 1979 by artist Richard Haas.
I headed back across Hereford and into Public Alley 443, where I immediately saw a curious white door about 6-8 feet above the sidewalk.
I can picture a horse-drawn wagon from Brookline Ice & Coal slogging through the mud, stopping in front of this door and loading product into a kitchen or boiler room. This is the rear of The Tennis & Racquet Club, which was founded in 1902 in this Classical Revival building designed by the firm of Parker & Thomas. "[T}he oldest athletic and social club in the city of Boston...[t]he club is known for its century-old tradition of court tennis (the regal, slate-walled ancestors of all racquet sports), the unique and exciting game of racquets, and its top-rated squash program," per its web site.
I can smell the sweat of early-20th century Boston Brahmins through the walls, and taste their cognac.
(No trespassing sign right around the corner from the funky white door.)
Several restaurants and bars back up to Public Alley 443. Below is one of many large garbage bins located there.
I believe "NNN" refers to this band, who I'd never heard of.
I debated making the photo below, as it's a personal decoration outside someone's apartment window. But I couldn't resist.
After crossing Fairfield Street into Public Alley 441, I made the shot below. That rusty duct just hit me right.
A little further down that alley, I felt the need to document the truth of the sign below.
Correct. There are no dumpsters here. But what's in that rat death trap?
Below is my favorite image from my back-alley jaunt.
I don't recall exactly where this totally random set of lockers was located, and it doesn't even matter. I just love the light blue of the lockers against the reds and whites and browns of the bricks. And I wonder: who put the lockers there? Why? Why are some of them open? And what's with the paint can?
I went back across Exeter Street into Public Alley 440. There, I found the sneaky way into Old South Church.
The sanctuary rose in 1875, the third building to stand on this site.
To wrap up my trip, I took a rare selfie in Public Alley 439, somewhere between Dartmouth and Clarendon streets.
Hope you enjoyed this trek through the underbelly of one of Boston's most chic neighborhoods. Keep your eyes peeled for more back-alley adventures in the near future!
In my first post about Beverly, Mass., I toured the small city's Cabot Street commercial drag (see September 16, 2023, "Downtown Beverly, Part I: Cabot Street + Environs"). As I mentioned at the end of that essay, after exploring that area, I headed west on Federal Street, as I sensed I would bump into good backside things before too long.
Soon enough I hit Rantoul Street, and realized quickly that I'd been along this main thoroughfare once before, a few years ago, tossing back beers with former coworkers at Old Planters Brewing. This area, close to the Bass River, with more obvious signs of Beverly's industrial past, had plenty to check out, even with ongoing redevelopment.
I walked a ways south on Rantoul Street, on the east side, before making my first shot.
Now known as Gateway Condominiums, this late 19th century brick building rose as Woodbury Bros. Shoe Company, according to MACRIS. The factory was built "by the Beverly Building Association, an organization of local businessmen who sought to attract new industry to the city, particularly after a major fire in Lynn, MA destroyed many shoe factories," per MACRIS. The building association also constructed the factories across Rantoul Street, which are shown below.
These buildings date to 1895, and were originally home to the J.W. Carter Shoe Company, I believe. In subsequent years, companies including Decron Plastics, Superior Hat Company, Superior Real Estate, Criterion Shoe Company, Lion Leather and Plastic and Porter Sewing Machine Corporation were located here, according to the web site for Porter Mill Studios, which currently occupies one of these buildings. Porter Mill is home to artists, studios and small businesses. The adjacent old factory building is home to Advantage Self Storage.
Around the corner, heading west toward the Bass River, is another old mill building, along Pleasant Street, hard by the commuter train tracks.
I believe the ghost sign says "The Porter Machine," likely referring to the aforementioned Porter Sewing Machine Corp., which may have used this facility at some point. This is 60 Pleasant Street, which dates to 1896, and was built as the J.P. Friend & Co. Box Factory, according to MACRIS. Other tenants over the years included A.W. Copp & Co. box manufacturers, S.H. Dow & Co. shoe stitching, Gavaza Bottle Cap Co., Beverly Mattress Co. and National House Furnishing Co. Below, on the west-facing side of the building, you can see a ghost sign for Beverly Mattress.
The building is now apartments. Around the corner from the old box factory, facing River Street, is the Beverly Depot.
Built in 1896, the train station was erected by the B&M Railroad, replacing an 1839 depot. The new depot was designed by Bradford Gilbert, who was said at the time to be the best-known railroad station architect in the country, according to MACRIS. The depot is currently used as a station for the MBTA's Newburyport/Rockport commuter line. Additionally, the historic building houses The Beverly Depot, a steakhouse and seafood restaurant.
Across River Street is a former fire house and union meeting hall currently being used as a homeless shelter.
Built sometime in the early 1870s as a firehouse -- you can see where the fire apparatus would have come out the front of the building -- by 1945 it was converted into the headquarters for the United Electrical, Radio, and Machineworkers of America, C.I.O. Local 271, according to MACRIS. It is currently known as River House and "was formed in response to the chronic need for emergency-shelter services for homeless individuals in the greater Beverly and North Shore area," per its web site.
Next door to the shelter is a building known by its historic name, the Upton Machine Shop, as well as by its common name, Cameron Car Company.
The latter outfit manufactured automobiles for nearly two decades, from 1902 to 1920, first in Rhode Island (not sure what town or city); then in Brockton, Mass.; next in Beverly, at this location; and then Norwalk and finally Stamford, Connecticut, according to Wikipedia. The company made two, four, and six-cylinder models.
That's pretty damn cool!
The building, which I believe dates to 1907, is currently occupied by Van Ness Creative, a full-service film and video production company.
Looking east from in front of the old car manufacturing plant, I spied a nice old sign located on the other side of the commuter rail tracks.
Note the oil geyser spewing out of the top of the derrick. I'm not sure whether Bill's Oil Service is still in business, as there is a used auto place located at the address I found online for Bill's.
Next up are three businesses all in row along River Street, between Bridge and Federal streets. Two of the places have closed, while the other moved nearby. I'm wondering if their bottom lines were affected by the closure of the Hall-Whitaker drawbridge on Bridge Street back in June of last year. Spanning the Bass River, the bridge connected Beverly's Ryal Side neighborhood with downtown.
First is the Ryal Side Auto Center, which was in business at the corner of Bridge and River streets for more than three decades.
This business has moved to 126 Park Street, I'm happy to report.
The other two businesses, which were located in the same building, may have shared ownership.
The River Street Grille appears to have closed last year. I'm not sure how long it was in business.
(Mural on the back of the restaurant painted by an artist who goes byGrimdrops.)
As for the Bowl-o-Mat, below, it was a candlepin bowling establishment that appears to have closed in 2018 or 2019.
Here's a Goodle Street View image from November 2017. Man, I wish that sign was still there....
Moving on.
Facing Federal Street, below, is the graffiti-covered backside of a long, low building known as Beverly Industrial Park, which fronts on West Dane Street. Businesses there include New England Leather Co., Top to Bottom Construction, Salem Plumbing Supply and Graff City USA, an art supply store.
(Maybe somebody thought Graff City USA was actually Grafitti City....)
Tucked between the heavily tagged industrial park building and a residiential building is Joe's On a Roll.
A takeout and food truck business on Federal Street, Joe's specializes in lobster rolls and other seafood, and has a great work of art on its roof.
At the corner of Federal and Park streets, I spied some cool artwork.
Currently a private residence (I think) and perhaps also a machine shop, this building was a mystery to me until I posted these photos on Instagram. There, I learned from someone who commented that this building was originally a gas station, and then was turned into a Chevrolet dealership in the 1930s. More recently, it was home to Freeman's BMW Motorcycle, hence the artwork.
I love it when people know things and share those things.
Heading south on Park Street, I was stopped in my tracks by the building housing Gentile Brewing Company, which calls itself a nano brewery.
Built in 1884 by the Charles H. Creesy and Co. shoe manufacturer, this building was home to other manufacturers over the years, according to the brewery's web site. "Organized in Beverly in 1875, [Creesy] manufactured women's and misses' 'dongola goods in medium grades,'" per MACRIS. Dongola is a leather process that uses goatskin, calfskin or sheepskin to make a soft, thin product.
Across Park Street from the brewing company are two related stores: Gordon's, which sells gifts and collectibles, including "Beverly Theme Gifts," and offers scissor sharpening and custom embroidery; and Theological Threads, the sign for which caught my eye, despite its understated nature.
Theological Threads sells Bible markers, funeral palls, urn covers, banners, humeral veils, dalmatics and plenty of other religious items that I've never heard of. The company traces its history to 1976. I highly suggest reading about that history on the company's web site.
Back out on Rantoul Street, the next thing that caught my eye was the entrance to the lounge for Anmol, an Indian restaurant.
I went west on Federal Street (again) and then north on Park Street, where I spied the little industrial building below, which is home to Eastern Cycle.
In business since 1956, the company is "a mechanical manufacturing facility providing prototype and prodcution CNC Machining, Welding, Assembly, & Leak Detection," according to its web site. "We are best suited for aluminum and stainless steel families of material, but are capable of working with most hard-to-machine materials."
Where Park Street meets West Dane Street there is a martial arts school that's been around since 1962.
By this time in my jaunt, the light was waning. I made the last four photos because a) I was attracted to the signage and b) I found it easier to shoot things that were already lit up.
As I walked up West Dane back to Rantoul Street, I had to rub my eyes to make sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing.
The Pickled Onion is an Irish bar and grill that seems likely to have been here for quite some time. I love love love the sign, the neon up top so warm and inviting, and the list of Gaelic words below telling you what sort of food, drink and atmosphere to expect.
Right down the street is another great sign, pointing the way to ChrisPy's Liquors & Lottery.
The last two places have great stories. First up is Jacob's Corner Bar & Grill.
I'm not sure how long the bar has been around. According to the eatery's web site, the name of the place "is a tribute to the owners (sic) teammate and best friend who tragically lost his life months after graduating from Endicott College. His name was Jacob Maxfield and on the football field he wore the number 88. The loss of Jake inspired not only Jacobs Corner (sic) but also several fundraising efforts including a yearly golf tournament and a community cleanup event."
So sad, but a nice tribute to a friend. Finally, Gloria Food Store, right next to Jacob's.
From the store's web site: "The Gloria Food Store has been on the corner of Rantoul and Federal Streets since 1936. Our family, the Ofiesh family, bought the store in 1983, and ever since, we've enjoyed every day of serving Beverly's residents the best Italian cold cuts and speciality (sic) items!"
Eighty-seven years this place has been in business -- and 40 with the most recent owners! That's just fantastic.
