This week, we continue with our series of longer pieces unraveling the histories of storied buildings.
View of 444 Broadway as The Olympic Theatre, year unknown. Photo courtesy of The Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs: Photography Collection, The New York Public Library.
James Norman knew exactly what he was doing when he walked into 444 Broadway in the spring of 1862. And the woman he shot knew, too. The music was loud, drinks were flowing, and he was a jilted man. He gave $100 dollars (a hefty sum in 1862) to buy furniture to his fiancée Kate White, a waitress at the concert saloon on the ground floor of the building. She ran away with the money, never to be heard from again. They had met one of the many times he must have come in drunk, sweaty, and groping. It’s not hard to imagine why she took the money and ran.
This week, we present a series of longer pieces unraveling the histories of storied buildings.
(Photo: Bill Altham)
On the 16th of November in 1964, four women and four men appeared in their underwear at the Judson Memorial Church,happily cavorting with each other and rubbing their bodies with carefree smiles. They piled up together, humping and sensually touching each other in a mess of raw fish, chicken and sausages. It was an event devoid of modesty, an unapologetic, uncensored expression of sexuality.
It was dark by the time members of the East Village walkabout group entered Tompkins Square Park, carrying plastic bags containing clean syringes, sterilized cookers and tourniquets, condoms, lubricants and dental dams. More →