Street-Level History

The 1980s are long gone, yet I remember my college course on New York City history as if it were yesterday. Our professor was a tall, extremely slender, highly energetic man in his early 40s who routinely wore Adidas Oregon running shoes—a fitting choice for a devoted marathoner.

On the first day, he told us that learning in his class would cost us plenty of shoe leather, and he was not kidding. He led detailed historical tours of the city, taking us around—and often inside—its many significant sites. By the end of the first tour, we were exhausted, footsore, and thoroughly fascinated by New York City’s past. The professor had truly earned the nickname we had quietly given him:

The Walking Wire.

During our first trip, he focused on Colonial New York—unimaginably smaller then—and pointed out sites of early importance. One highlight was his explanation of Wall Street’s origin: an approximately six-foot-high wall that separated New Amsterdam from the Native Americans outside it. Because the wall was only six feet tall, the Native Americans could easily peer over it into the colony. Our minds were blown.

We took other trips—to the U.S. Customs House, the Port Authority Bus Terminal, the Lower East Side tenements, Lincoln Center, the Brooklyn Navy Yard, the various former sites of Madison Square Garden, and many more. He explained each location’s historical significance, captivating us with every word.

And then came our last trip. We gathered in Manhattaan's Washington Square Park and noticed a smirk on the Wire's face. He told us to walk through the park for ten minutes, then return to the park's iconic arch. A high-pitched giggle escaped him as we walked away, unsure why we were there.

When we returned, he smiled mischievously and told us that, like most New Yorkers, we had no idea we had just walked on a mass grave containing thousands of victims of the city’s early-1800s yellow fever outbreak.

Several “Ewwwwwws!” later, he led us to the Brown Building, formerly the Asch Building. It once housed the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, the site of a watershed moment in the struggle for women’s rights.

The Walking Wire fanned the flames of my interest in history, and I remain grateful to him. My articles would likely contain far less historical content without his influence and the encouragement of others who urged me to stay true to my interests. To them—and to everyone who guided me directly or indirectly—I offer my heartfelt thanks. My life would be very different without you.

All the best,
— RWaR