“What did you do there?”

In my teens I began to spend time over in the city, especially when I would play hooky from school. Hop the turnstile (or rush the gate) at 15th street-Prospect Park; catch the F-Train and ride to a place that seemed like a different world.

Here’s a story from the New York Post on Washington Square Park in the Village. Been there many times.

This entry was posted in 1970, 1977, Booze, Brown Bag, Colitas, Container Diaries, Depression, F-Train, Hang out, Holy Name and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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