Shanty Town

Image from NY Times, J. David Goodman

A somber and somewhat sad article, "Under a Exit Ramp,  A Cluster of Mysteries" by J. David Goodman, ran in The Times today. The subject? The removal of shanty homes along Riverside Drive.

I've never seen the particular "one-room, plywood shanty" they describe in detail, but I've seen many of these ramshackle structures along the Hudson River and always wondered about the people dwelling there. Although I couldn't imagine living in one myself--and felt a deep sadness for the people and the stories that must have led them to those resting places-- I have always envied the solitude those structures must provide. Tucked away from the boom of Broadway, the roar and discomfort of the subway, one might actually be able to sleep through the night, once you get over the fear of being alone on a highway-side.

Sometimes when we drive down the West Side Highway I search through the trees for resting spots like this and try to feel what a cold winter night or balmy summer evening spent amongst the white noise of passing cars might be like. The thoughts whoosh by at the speed of our Mustang.

Last summer, Ben and I stumbled upon a nesting place like this under a bridge at the south end of Inwood Hill Park. I wondered who had made the place home. There were piles of clothing, a plastic tarp or large bag, and a cluster of tiles that had been glued to a wall, the beginnings of a mural. I wanted to sit amongst the clutter and touch the tiles, search the space for some clues as to the character and story of the resident, but felt like an intruder, uncomfortable that we had broken into someone's home.

I understand the never-ending myriad of twists and turns of fate that bring someone to a state of homelessness. It is an ugly and sad thing for someone to not have a place to call home--something Ben believes should be an inalienable right--but I (guiltily) revel in the romantic notion that this loner lived peacefully for a short time in the shack along the edge of the river, content to live in his "little house, solidly put together, with a single glass window and a front door equipped with a peephole and a knocker."

Regardless of what we think about the location of the home, the squalor it possibly lent, the peace he may have found for those short weeks in October and November must have been blissful-- a state even the most flush amongst us cannot always buy.

Comments

[The Gay Recluse]

For a pic of the actual house I took last fall, scroll to the bottom here:

http://thegayrecluse.com/2009/01/07/on-the-city-pattern-project-the-secession-building/

[Carla Zanoni]

I'm sitting here with my jaw dropped. I can't believe you guys built that. So, what is that bs about the man not being approachable? Is the whole story false? I'm floored.

[The Gay Recluse]

Lol, we didn't build it, I photographed it!

[Carla Zanoni]

Oh, thank god! I thought the story was a sham!