It was at the town library that I heard about Officer Harrington’s quick thinking on the front steps of the MacCann house . . .
Tag: Nathan Ward
A riderless horse clopping with hungry purpose down the block was not such a rare sight on that part of the West Side then. . .
“You better come get me,” George mumbled into the phone when his wife Connie answered brightly on the third ring . . .
New York was scruffier then; everywhere you saw signs of its humbling in its bald park lawns and strobe-popping Broadway head shops . . .
We had switched from beer to a pair of hot rums dubbing around in a reporters’ bar across from the women’s prison downtown. Outside it was storming in late-October style, the first chilly rain that gnaws like winter, and from our polished stools we watched the people tilt their umbrellas at one another like blind knights as they passed . . .
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