Falling for Paterson Falls, Paterson New Jersey

October 13, 2009 01:13 PM ET | Schlager, Ken | Permanent Link

Sometimes it pays to heed your own advice. Such was the case on Sunday when I followed a recommendation in the current New Jersey Monthly and took a day trip to Paterson Falls.

Photo by Steve Greer.

I’ve lived in the Montclair area for more than 20 years and often stray into the surrounding towns east, west, and south. But in all this time, I’ve only had one prior occasion to go two towns north to Paterson—and never before to Paterson Falls.
But on Sunday—a mild and sunny Sunday—I couldn’t get anyone in my clan enrolled in one of the more ambitious day trips outlined in the October issue, so I decided to go solo to the Falls. I was well-rewarded.
I had my first glimpse of the plunging water from a parking lot, then walked across McBride Avenue Extension to the Great Falls Historic District Cultural Center, a neat little wooden shack amid the great brick buildings of the industrial area that grew up around the Falls. There I was greeted by Giovanna Cecchetti (“call me Joanne, it’s easier”), a delightful part-time employee of Paterson’s department of community development, who advised me how to best enjoy the visit.
I started with a stroll through the cultural center, taking in its Alexander Hamilton timeline. It was Hamilton’s vision that got Paterson started as an industrial center—powered by the rushing waters of the Passaic River. Amazing guy, that Hamilton. An orphan by age 13. A lieutenant colonel in George Washington’s army by age 20. The first secretary of the treasury at age 34.
Too bad Hamilton’s plans for the Falls area didn’t include a McBride Avenue crosswalk. I waited out the heavy traffic, then walked up the hill for a view of the Falls from the footbridge that spans the waters just downstream of the 77-foot drop. I was pleased to see that others had the same idea for that Sunday afternoon (were they all New Jersey Monthly readers?) and had brought their families out for a look at “the cradle of American industry.” Nice rainbow, too.
Crossing back over McBride, I entered Raceway Park, so-named for the narrow channel of water (or Raceway) diverted from above the Falls. In its manufacturing heyday, the water racing through the winding channel and down its spillways turned the waterwheels that powered the factories that lined its banks.
These days, the Raceway moves at a snail’s pace. Someday soon, the Raceway should be restored to its former frothy glory when the National Park Service takes over administration of the area. For now, the channel is nothing more than a muck of pea soup salted with beer cans and Styrofoam boxes. Still it’s a pleasant walk down the hill from Raceway Park, past the Paterson Museum (too nice a day for museum-going) and the other remnants of Paterson’s industrial past—following roughly along the route of the Raceway.
Crossing Mill Street I entered into the lively neighborhood known these days as Little Lima. Having worked up a good appetite, I ducked into a little Peruvian spot called Sandwiches Locos. I’m still not sure whether the fellow behind the counter spoke English, but I managed to come away with a Cuban sandwich and an Inca Cola.
My plan was to walk back up the hill to the Falls while munching my sandwich. Alas, one bite and streams of viscous Cuban sandwich sauce (whatever that is) came streaming down my arm (ably demonstrating the downhill liquid rush that drove Paterson’s industrial development).
Apart from that debacle, it was a thoroughly delightful day trip. Next time I’ll bring napkins.