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I can barely recall the 70's except from photos as I was born in '75. My family immigrated here when I was a few months old. From what they tell me, it was super easy back then to get a decent job and it was pretty cheap to live here. But that seems just about all NYC was good for at the time. Crime was ridiculous - my father worked for a couple of years as a gas attendant (night shift) while studying for his masters, and they'd have hold-ups like every other night. Black-white racial tension was worse back then as well.
I can barely recall the 70's except from photos as I was born in '75. My family immigrated here when I was a few months old. From what they tell me, it was super easy back then to get a decent job and it was pretty cheap to live here. But that seems just about all NYC was good for at the time. Crime was ridiculous - my father worked for a couple of years as a gas attendant (night shift) while studying for his masters, and they'd have hold-ups like every other night. Black-white racial tension was worse back then as well.
Sorry that you can never be president!
I remember as a kid in the '80s, going to 5th Avenue during Christmas time, and seeing homeless men sleeping and begging outside Tiffany's, Cartier, Bergdorf Goodman--even sometimes FAO Schwarz . In the middle of the day, of course.....
If you don't mind me jumping in, I would like to say that the original post shared a lot of truths. Also what many of you had heard from your parents and grandparents is very accurate. I am from Bushwick and was born there and lived there through the years of "Leave it to Beaver""" and Father Knows Best, meaning I was at the tail end of the "Family Values" era and then lived there through the worst times in its history--the burnings. It is true, you could not walk the streets, and in school (where they used to chain the doors to keep us in and the drug dealers out) they actually taught us how to walk in the streets to protect ourselves. Even more of a horror for me, I went to Catholic school and we wore uniforms, making us prime targets. I used to have to run home the three blocks some days and had to run into the factory next door rather than take the time to turn my key in my lock, because I was being chased by JHS kids with metal garbage can covers and sticks. The men in the factory would come out with boxcutters and sticks to chase off the kids so I could get in my door. I also remember walking through the streets up to my ankles in some spots in litter. The streets were so dirty. Once vets from the Vietnam War started coming back, so many were strung out on heroin and LSD and having lived at a bus stop, many would hang out on my stoop and pass out or even worse, be sick or overdose there. I had to sometimes wait for the poiice to find them before I tried to leave my house. There are many equally as sickening stories. But for as many wretched things I remember about those days in the city, I have memories of it that I would give almost anything to relive once again. It was a depressing place in those days, but as such, it took a lot less to make you appreciate fun, beauty and charm when and where you saw it.
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