Stacy Horn

Our choir rehearsal tonight was cancelled for no good reason, in the end. The only times choir rehearsal has been cancelled in my entire 30 year history of singing with the Choral Society of Grace Church was on 9/11/2001, and during Hurricane Sandy! We only got what I would call a modest snowfall.

But New Yorkers are appreciating the atmosphere of a day off. I took a lot of pictures of people with their dogs after my friend Jackie explained the trials and tribulations of walking your dog in the snow. The one that got to me was how the salt hurts their poor little feet and some people put booties on their paws to address it. This dog was having a great time, though.

Runners gotta run. I stopped by my gym to see if I could take a swim and the answer was, “You can if a life guard shows up!” I’ll call later to see.

There was a bunch of sledding even though we don’t have much of what anyone would call “hills” around here. This was on the banks of the Hudson River.

Parents were using sleds instead of strollers to take their kids around. I got the sense that kids everywhere give this mode of transportation a big thumbs up.

More dog joy. This dog in the picture below was absolutely in love with the snow. My poor cats. They have never had the opportunity to play in the snow. Perhaps they are fine with that.

So that was our blizzard. Happy snow day everyone!!

Okay, I went out and took some pictures. Even though it was only just barely snowing there was almost no one out there! A cop car went by with a loud speaker calling out, “A curfew is in effect,” even though the curfew doesn’t begin until 11 (it was around 9) and there’s almost no snow on the ground! One couple was out on a romantic stroll at least.

Almost everything was closed but a few places saw an opportunity.

The Empire State Building from my roof. It is too soon to call bullshit on this storm? It’s supposed to really start going at 11, but it’s 11 now and nothing is happening out there. No wind, still barely snowing. Watch, it will get really bad, I’ll lose electricity and heat and hot water and boy will I be sorry then.

I loved this blizzard so much it made it into my book Waiting for My Cats to Die. I’d just seen this lovely movie, After Life (Roger Ebert gave it four stars). In it, everyone who dies goes to a place where they have to pick one memory, and that memory will be the only memory they take with them when they go wherever it is that dead people go.

So I wrote down my favorite memories, trying to pick which memory I’d take with me, and the blizzard of 1978 was one of the memories I considered (in the end I couldn’t pick one memory, I loved too many). It’s such a simple, small memory, but it stood out for me at the time. I was 20 years old, and even though I couldn’t see more than a couple of feet in front of me I just had to walk from my apartment on Chatham Street into Harvard Square, a five minute walk normally, but I think it took me maybe an hour, the drifts were so high. You couldn’t see where cars were parked. The snow accumulation was so enormous I was walking down the street at a level higher than the tops of the cars!

I’d never been in a blizzard before, I just loved it. It was scary but exhilarating. When I got to Harvard Square, everything was closed of course, except Buddy’s Sirloin Pit, my favorite restaurant. Even better, it was packed with people like myself, people who couldn’t resist seeing what it was like to be out in a blizzard. I wrote about pouring A1 sauce all over my meat and wolfing it down while the room steamed. (I’m a vegetarian now, so this is funny to read.) But I’d built up such a tremendous appetite trudging through those drifts, and fighting wind and snow that was coming at me at what felt like all directions at once, never letting up. It felt like I was in a hurricane of snow. I’d engaged in a battle with nature and had won!

Mayor de Blasio just declared a state of emergency and announced that traffic in the City will be closed at 11pm to all but emergency vehicles. I think I might have to be out and about to see that, if I’m still awake.

The calm before the storm. This is looking down onto the street from my apartment window. My friend Jackie says I wouldn’t love the snow so much if I had to talk a dog. It’s hard to see but this guy is walking a little dog.

I started this post this morning, got side-tracked, and now it’s 8pm. I don’t remember what I planned to post about because I’m all about the coming storm right now. I LOVE SNOW. Please, please, please don’t be exaggerating, please let it be a great big, true, white-out, storm-of-all-time BLIZ! ZARD! I’m charging my camera batteries in preparation.

People skating at Bryant Park, behind the main branch of the New York Public Library. I like that I got someone flying past confidently and someone who just wiped out. (Sorry wipe-out person.)

Four days after Thomas Aikens was beaten up and his eye gouged out, (see the previous post) Samuel Edmund Laurie was beaten by Patrolman Zakutinski, [Shield #18396, Precinct 32] and as a result of this beating, died in Harlem Hospital less than an hour later.

A memo was sent to the Police Commissioner with several recommendations to address the conduct of patrolmen assigned to Harlem and to ease the tensions that had arisen between the community and the police. The Commissioner’s response is below.

Arthur Garfield Hays, who apparently headed up the Commission, was a very interesting person, by the way. He was a well known civil liberties lawyer who represented Sacco and Vanzetti. Google him!

Police Commissioner Lewis J. Valentine was known for fighting corruption within the police department. Unfortunately he was not at all sensitive to issues of racism and brutality. He would not concede that there was any problem whatsoever and not one suggestion was adopted. Reasonable ideas like a committee of five to seven Harlem residents to receive complaints from “colored people” in order to avoid retaliation were rejected.

Mr. Arthur Garfield Hays
The Mayor’s Commission on the Conditions in Harlem
120 Broadway
New York, NY

My Dear Mr. Hays:

In reply to your communication of September 25th, permit me to advise you that …

I, as Police Commissioner, believe that the recommendation to appoint a committee of five to seven Harlem citizens, to receive complaints from colored people, to be unnecessary and impracticable. This department draws no line as to race, color or creed, and every complaint regardless of its source, whether the writer is anonymous or identifiable, against citizens or members of our Department for alleged misconduct, is thoroughly investigated and appropriate action is always taken …

Recommending the printing of leaflets and placards, I deem this suggestion impracticable, because of the obvious impossibility of obtaining large numbers of leaflets and placards that would be required, and the effective distribution of same, within a reasonable time after an unforeseen disorder occurred.

Our municipal radio station, during business hours, could be used in any grave emergency, but most of the private stations while in operation are under contract with advertisers broadcasting commercial programs. Even though it were possible to obtain the cooperation of our large broadcasting companies … the idea appears to me to be impracticable because of the impossibility of addressing those responsible for the disorder and others in the immediate area …

In connection with the last paragraph of your letter, please be advised that each of the cases contained therein have been thoroughly investigated by appropriate officials of this Department and no cause for disciplinary action was found …

In connection with the death of Edward Laurie, on March 23, 1935, Assistant District Attorney Price presented this case to the New York County Grand Jury and the exonerated Patrolman Abraham Zabutinsky, 32nd Precinct. [I started to look into this case, and this may not have been a case of police brutality, but a genuine accident.]

In the alleged assault upon Thomas Aiken by Patrolman David Egan, 32nd Precinct, the facts in this case were presented to the New York County Grand Jury … and no indictment was found against either the prisoner or against Patrolman Egan … [two other cases were addressed]

Assuring you of my desire to cooperate, and with warmest regards …

Very Truly Yours,
Lewis J. Valentine
Police Commissioner

Looking up at a building. The zoom lens captures what was too far away for my eyes to see.