When Manhattan Was Affordable—And Dangerous

It took me well over a year of dedicated searching to find a residence in Manhattan. I suspect that this journey would take even longer today.

I did not wish to acquire roommates; I had heard too many horror stories. I also did not wish to find myself inside something that looked and felt like a set from “Blue Velvet.”

People I meet today with the same goal are clueless. One of them actually asked me what “affordable housing” is. Another was unaware of the United Nations.

This past week, I heard a TV commentator say that ownership wins over renting. This became apparent to me in the late ’70s. You do not need a doctorate in economics to realize this. The trouble with ownership is money. Do you have it? Can you borrow it? Can you team up with reliable people?

Sometimes something really is too good to be true. A while back, the economist David Gordon, who owned a brownstone on the north side of Tompkins Square Park in the East Village, tried to snag me as a neighbor. The building next to his was selling for $6,000. I actually visited it. The former home of a dentist, it still had the chair smack in the center of one room (I wanted it).

Unfortunately, I knew a little too much about the area. A friend rented a huge place on the south side of the park, and I never quite felt secure inside. A hipster paradise, the nabe had businesses like the Psychedelicatessen to the north. It also saw frequent riots conducted by homeless encampments, complete with armed and helmeted police, smudge bombs, etc.

Everyone living there could routinely expect that his or her home would be tossed at least once, with or without property damage. A guy murdered and cooked his girlfriend, serving the park’s denizens the meal out of a stewpot. Her name was Monica Beerle, and she was a modern dancer from Switzerland. One wag taped a message on the apartment door reading, “Is it soup yet?”

One year, I enjoyed taking photos of Wigstock. The park served as its original headquarters.

But somehow, I thought better of it. Now the whole place is gentrified.—Kathryn Nocerino