The Lost Stories Of New York City

For Three Hundred Eighty Nine Years,secrets have been made in New York City. It is an ever-growing web of cracks and crevices, filled with memories seen and unseen. Every inch has been touched, built and rebuilt again. These are the stories that have been lost in the fury of this place, but not forgotten.

For 57 years a widow prayed to this statue every Sunday afternoon.She placed her husband’s photo at its feet for friends to see.She shed tears when neighbors walked by.And every Sunday her prayers were answered; they never suspected a thing.

The oldest man in New York City lives at the bottom of these stairs.He will grant you one wish in exchange for one year of your life;And $15 dollars at the door.He’s never missed rent.

A man asked a woman to marry him at this lookout in 1952.He looked into her eyes and held out a ring.He waited patiently for her answer.2 months later she returned here alone, and left him one.

He uses the phone on the left to call his supplier.He uses the phone on the right to return calls from regulars running low.He uses the phone on the left to call 1-900 numbers when he’s bored.He uses a cell phone to tell his wife he’ll be at the call center late tonight.

The original owner of this lot buried $2 million dollars here to pass on to his only child. He later built a bustling candle factory here, and taught his son the family business. On the day he died he gave his son the keys and told him of his inheritance. That was three weeks ago.

The greatest metal band in the history of New York was formed behind this door in 1987. A year later they mistakenly left the lyrics to their original song, “Welcome to the Jungle” on a bar stool. The last remaining member still opens the door to tell his story or sign an autograph. And for his medication.

On the cold night of October 11th, 1973 a high school boy met the girl of his dreams standing alone at this spot. He left her his jacket, and never heard from her again. He’s returned every year on the night of October 11th with the hope of seeing her again. Forty years later he found his jacket lying here, inside the pocket was a note, that read, “I remember.”