A lovely, gentle, mildly nostalgic piece in the New York Times by Gay Talese, recounting his maiden trip aboard one of the tourist cruisers that sail around Manhattan. It’s as elegant and neat and finely-constructed as you might imagine:
Atop a cliff on the Manhattan bank of the Harlem River stands the 185-foot Highbridge Water Tower, which resembles a medieval minaret and housed a carillon that chimed tunes thrice daily until it was destroyed by arson in 1984. Across the river, within view of Yankee Stadium (or stadiums, both old and new), two young boys hurled stones toward our vessel, failing to reach the mark but prompting Captain Weber to respond to their ill intent with a few forceful honks on his foghorn. There were rows of rusty subway cars lining railroad tracks in weedy fields, and storage buildings attended by junkyard dogs and surrounded by barbed wire fencing. On a rickety wooden pier, an elderly man in a straw hat stood with his fishing rod extended over the muddy water.
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