When I first moved to Manhattan on April Fool’s Day 1980, the East Village was a cooler and creepier place than it is today. It’s still cool and creepy here and there. Some of the blocks don’t look that much different than they did back then. But from Avenue A eastward to Avenue D, well, that was a whole different world for us white folk, mostly artists, musicians, junkies and club kids, looking for cheap rent, cheap dope, cheap drinks and fun bars to mix all of the above with loud music.
I first lived on St. Mark’s between 2nd and 1st in a railroad apartment with the bathtub in the kitchen. I was a junkie then, a “speedballer” actually, which meant I shot dope and coke together, which was good for staying up all night while still maintaining my narcotic composure. I shared the apartment with three other junkies. We’d sleep all day, then cop some dope and coke in the abandoned buildings of Alphabet City, stay up and go to clubs all night, then out for breakfast at Kiev after watching an hour of Mary Tyler Moore reruns. Such was life.
I moved into a boarded-up storefront on 3rd street between A and B shortly thereafter. A two-bedroom apartment for $375 a month. All the streets south of 6th between A and B were pretty scary then. Between B and C they were really scary. Between C and D? Well, you didn’t want to go there at night. At all.
Most of the buildings between B and D were condemned and abandoned. Demolished yards of rubble separated the dead shells of buildings. Some of the buildings were filled with squatters seeking no-rent habitation. Some had been taken over by drug dealers. Those were the ones I visited nightly.
Here’s how it worked: you walked up three or four flights of stairs lit only by votive candles on each landing – a Halloween horror house with other junkies, even more desperate than myself, lurking in the shadows. There was a closed apartment door at the top with a knocked out peephole. You never went inside the door. You said, “One dope, one coke,” (or whatever your order was) and stuck twenty dollars through the hole. Then some anonymous fingers stuck two packages back out the hole, the Mexican brown heroin wrapped in small glassine envelopes with rubber stamp marks on them that identified the dealer’s brand. Yes, they actually had brand names like Black Death and other sinister titles. The coke was generic, wrapped in tin foil.
It was a terrifying experience, at least for me, made even more terrifying by the fact that I was doomed to go back and repeat the same process night after night after night. In The Book of Paul, much of the action takes place in one of these no-longer-abandoned buildings. The top floor is occupied by someone far more sinister and dangerous than the most sociopathic drug dealer. It is the home of Paul and the horrors it contains are far more gruesome and terrifying than anything I ever experienced in similar ruins – though I have a few good yarns to spin about that – someday.
I don’t live like that anymore. I live in a nice loft in a nice neighborhood with my exceptional wife and two wonderful children. I’m a family man, not a self-seeking junkie. On August 16th I will celebrate 25 years clean and sober (God willing, as they say in “the rooms”). I haven’t been in an abandoned building between Avenue C and D, in decades. There hasn’t even been an abandoned building in Alphabet City in decades. I no longer have any urgent errands calling me inside, leading me up those candlelit staircases.
Yes, things are much different for me today. I’m not the same person I was when this story was set. But if you choose to visit a certain building between Avenue C and Avenue D with me, you’ll get a taste of the horror I felt, and travel on a journey that will take you to some very dark and unexpected places.
Indeed.
I use to live on “crack alley” – 13th Street between 2nd and 3rd in a building that was next to an abandoned yard, much like the one in the 2nd photograph. Prostitutes roamed that block, crack dealers were rampant and one dealer even managed to somehow secure an apartment on the 2nd floor of the building I had a studio apartment in. He’d sawed a hole through the wall into the vacant apartment next door where he’d set up shop. I remember coming home from work and seeing the entire block filled with cop cars, the building swarming with police because someone had tipped them off and they hauled the guy away. Not long after that a prostitute was murdered and then a kid was knifed and there was a little memorial set up in that abandoned lot. Those were different times. I feel no nostalgia for any of it.
I’m grateful that, against all odds, you became one of the survivors and not one of the dead. Not just because you have single-handedly transformed my life into an enviable one or because of our beautiful children, but also because you are taking all that enormous talent and brain power and doing something wonderful with it. You are an example to so many.
For those who have not yet read the Book of Paul, you should.
And for those who have, you know what I’ve talking about.
Thanks so much Ariane. We’ve both come a long, long way. Love and light instead of all that darkness. You are such a blessing.
I love it when authors write what they know. It makes their writing more believable to be sure. Knowing that you lived this for a time makes The Book Of Paul that much more real. I am glad that you were able to get out of that situation, but still be able to share some of your experience with us!
Thanks Shelly, if I knew then what I knew now…I’d probably have been just as stupid. The invulnerable feeling of youth will always argue the dumber tale and usually win.
Congratulations on your 25 years of clean. I had no idea you were in that situation ..and I’m sure it was no easy ride changing it. Good luck with your new book ..I assume you’ve started another …keep it up.
Hey Bill, thanks so much! Nice to hear from you! Yes, it’s been quite a voyage. I’m one of the lucky ones. Yes, I’m working on a young adult fantasy called The Dream Palace and a few sequels and prequels to The Book of Paul. It may still me only $.99 on Amazon today. Price is going up again post-promo. Anyway it’s a crazy book, very dark, very entertaining. Take care of yourself!