I was working as an assistant in a
photo studio on the 28th floor of a building on 7th Avenue
when the lights went out. We looked out and watched them wink off
across town: it was 1965 and we got to watch the first New York City
blackout. It was weird. As it happened, my friend Al lived a few
blocks away and after walking down the fire stairs with a few hundred
other people, I figured I might as well walk over to his apartment
since without electricity it seemed to be a good bet that there would
be no subway to get me home to my parents house in Brooklyn.
Fortunately Al and his folks lived on the 3rd floor. And
they were home. For some reason, the phones were working so I was
able to call home and assure Mom that I was well and had a place to
spend the night and equally important, that Al's mother was going to feed us. Then me
and Al decided to take a walk.
With all the stuff that went on that
evening, my strongest memory was walking up to Times Square. There were no street lights and traffic signals were out but less than an hour later there
were guys on the street selling flashlights. And by the time we got
up to 42nd Street, the food joints and hot dog stands had
gas lamps and candles set up and were doing business as usual. That
was the evening I learned that New Yorkers – the ones who make the
place happen - have their own particular hustle. By next morning
there were guys driving around with trucks loaded with huge hunks of dry
ice, hawking it to food retailers. Of course, these are the same
people who set up stands selling umbrellas within seconds of the
first drops hitting the pavement.
And in that great New York spirit,
here is a guy who appeared on 5th Avenue around the 3rd
week of January.
He probably was there the day before too, but with
400,000 people walking by, it was hard to notice him then. Today I stopped to chat with him. Pleasant guy. Nice buttons and tourists probably think $5 is a fair price. Hey, buck's a buck, right? Say hello if you are demonstrating in the neighborhood.
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