6 years later.
Thursday, May 31st, 2007Just about 6 years ago, The Hub and I were awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of sirens, the smell of smoke, and the sight of leaping flames. In our disorientation, we thought our building was on fire. It turned out to be the brownstone diagonally across the street. We were relieved no one was hurt, but bummed to lose our corner bodega; we’d only moved in together about 6 months before, and nipping out to get a gallon of milk or a chocolate bar was a nice convenience. But we figured someone would swoop in and have it back in business within a year or two.
As you can see from the photo below, not quite.
Work is coming along, I guess, but I have a hard time believing the speculation I’ve heard that a cafe will operate from the ground floor here.
A year or two after this place burned, The Hub and I were awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of sirens, the smell of smoke, and the sight of leaping flames. Again. This time, it was a house across the street, and people were yelling to try to make sure anyone inside woke up and got out. Today, here it stands:
My reaction after two of these incidents in such a short amount of time was similar to my reaction after walking across the Williamsburg Bridge on 9/11 and then across the Brooklyn Bridge in the 2003 blackout: If I’ve gotta walk across the Manhattan Bridge to get home ( = if a building on the third corner across from us burns), it might be time to pull up stakes.
But I digress. My point: I read somewhere today that it’s possible to house all the homeless people in New York City in existing vacant structures in Manhattan alone. As expensive as real estate is in this town, as precious as space is, I never cease to be amazed by how much wasted space we still have.
