240. JANE JACOBS

240. JANE JACOBS

The White Horse Tavern was,

in the, late 70's, a gem of a

place. On Hudson Street, a

few doors up from where

Jane Jacobs had lived,

before her move to Toronto,

it bore more aspects of a

'literary' soiree than a bar,

although it certainly was

that. Jane Jacobs had

written 'The Life and 

Death of a Great 

American City', 

pretty much an 

expose of her fight 

and take-down, her

adventure-telling of 

that long-ongoing battle 

with Robert Moses,

who was intent, as 

'money-lender in

the temple'  on 

fairly destroying 

the 'local' and the 

neighborhood character 

of NYC, especially 

the Greenwich Village 

portion of it, with his

multi-lane by-ways 

and highways that 

would have cut through 

everything, indiscriminately,

and with tolls, just so 

cars and trucks could 

better move through, 

on a quick in-and-out 

pass through, of Manhattan. 

All so that his bridge and

tunnel authorities could keep

raking money in to do more.

He was against all things 

which made what the city

what it was : the charm 

and deliberateness of 

local streets, shopkeepers, 

neighbors at street level, 

not in enormous, packed, 

high-rises blocs of 

housing (the lower east 

side got that anyway, 

and they still stand  -  

problematic, rundown, 

and noisy-fierce. He saw

nothing of that vision.

Jane did, house-marm 

and mother of kids, 

almost an accidental 

hero. Jane wanted a 

New York where, at 

street-level, people 

still knew one another, 

worked together, watched 

each others kids, kept 

random oversight to 

neighbors and small-shops 

and trade stores, local 

grocers, parks and 

playgrounds. Robert 

Moses wanted everything 

torn down, broken up, 

segregated  -  plazas 

and wind-swept places 

was all he'd give to 

the 'people', who 

were certainly 

secondary to his 

viewpoint of the 

commercialization 

and economic 

streamlining of 

commerce. People 

be damned. When 

you see a parking lot 

of 9 acres, cars, and 

a half-mile walk to 

the store(s) connected 

to it, that's Moses. 

Jane Jacobs, unbelievably 

and against all odds, in 

the 1950's stood up to 

him. Mobilized locals, 

formed community-activist 

groups, stormed meetings, 

and eventually they won 

their case. Moses had 

already done a lot of 

damage to NYC, but 

at least the Village was 

saved and not sundered  

-  no highway, as he'd 

planned, was cut through,

 no thruways and by-passes 

and mega-slots for cars 

and trucks. He was sent

packing, and his plans 

curtailed. The funny thing

about Robert Moses, big-

time bureaucrat and

municipal boss, doing 

all this  -  hr NEVER in

his life had a driver's

license. He always had

drivers, supplied by

Government, taking him

around. After the

successes of her crusade

 and plight, and the greater 

success of her book and 

story, she became a 

quite-someone, and 

eventually, even for 

her and her family 

and husband, the 

city became too much  

- they moved and lived, 

after that, in Toronto 

for many years; a place,

a city, she found more 

conducive to her 

particular idea of city

living, and , place, 

and pace too. No 

matter. 555 Hudson 

Street, today completely 

unmarked and non-descript, 

lives on. To me, in 

my mind, it was as 

if she'd never left 

555 anyway  -  not 

that the crowds nearby 

at a 'watering hole' like 

The White Horse must 

have always pleased her.

Some of my friends

 threw me a 30th 

birthday party there, 

and then we 'groggily' 

walked out to the old

Hudson River piers, 

to finish the night. That 

was the night one of my 

friends (this would have

been late Sept. '79, I 

guess. He and I shared 

a birth date, but he was 

younger by some 5 or 

6 years.) said if he (as a 

writer) wasn't famous 

by the time HE was 30, 

he'd kill himself. He 

wasn't. He didn't. 

Although, alas, he 

is now, these years 

later, quite dead. Back 

then these piers were 

derelict trysting spots 

of weird village people, 

endless gay men and 

women , when 'cruising' 

was in vogue,) all 

pre-AIDS too), crowds 

of dingy student and 

wastrel types. There 

was no commercial 

pier business left, 

except the dark-side 

and the dark-trade. 

We stayed there 

most of the night, 

bizarrely happy and 

dead-drunk as well. 

Oh to be 30 once 

more. I don't quite

 think Jane Jacobs 

had all that sort of 

thing so much in 

mind with her 

vision of the 'livable' 

city, but she did, 

I assure you, give 

allowances for 

such diversity, 

local color, and 

adventure-breaks 

from the boredom 

of routine, in her 

large picture. that's 

what made her 

so real and so great.