The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-10-30
In New York
BY GEORGE ROSS

pondenC, who haS proWled around New York long enough on foot, took sightseeing bus ride the other day and came away without his moneys worth. Because, behind the panorama of skyscrapers, fancy residences and landmarks of this town, there are tales which, some how, the guides neglect to tell.
 Greenwich Village, for example, is not the Bohemian Gehenna the man with the megaphone makes of 1t. And the Bohemian stal- warts of, the golden days who still survive are few and a sad tribe. Saddest of them all is Max well Bodenheim, the pauper poet who wrote 20. lusty, wel-known books that should have kept him modestly comfortable for life but who now, subsists on home relief, because he sold his royalties out- right and squandered the pro- ceeds.
 Old Greenwich Village has passed into limbo of Ye Olde Gypsy Tea Roome, Ye Pig n Whistle, Serve-U -Ur-Selfs and other pseudo-arty places for Boden- helm and his ilk. Save for one or two gathering dens, the old Village haunts have disappeared. Huber'S where impoverished poets penned a sonnet for any, one who would supply them with cups of coffee, is nowhere in sight. And so the old guard now make their rendezvous in a Sev- enth Avenue basement called the Vanguard, where there is much mooching of drinks and smokes. Bodenheim is regular visitor and his little circle of Village sur- vivors consists of Harry Kemp who once wrote popular vaga- band tale called "Tramping on I.ife," John Rose Gildea, 8 rarely published poet, and Lincoln Gill lespie, g literary worshipper of Gertrude Stein.
 Morgue and Morgan
 wish the guide had also pasued to tell the sightseers the eerie story of the New York Yacht Club when the bus scooted past, by the East River bank at the foot of Twenty sixth street. Not so long ago, this tony club where J. P. Morgan and Vincent Astor, among other millionaire commodores, keep their lavish skiffs, was the site of the city morgue. Then, during the last days of prohibition, the building was converted into an alcohol storehouse for New York City's hospitals.
 But it seems some bright rum runer padded under the pier in 8 rowboat one night, bored a hole through the floor and the barrels and drained out the entire alco- hol supply. City officials gave up; and turned the former muni- cipal lodging house for the dead over to wealthy yacht-owners as a fashionable clubhouse.
 On the trip to the Bowery, il seemed to me the guide was re- citing chapter from "The Gangs of New York" He mentioned Nc. Gurks Suicide Hall, the mission riots, the shooting forays. But any New Yorker who has loiter. ed an evening in the shadow ot the T." on this street of tht down-and- knows the Bower! these days is a tame place. Tht principal sights on almost an, night are the forgotten men wht dwadle as they walk forward thu flophouse (15 cents for the night or to the, corner beanery @ cent for a plate of soup).
 Hidden Sights
 Sightseers get a passing glimpse of the grim walls O the Tombs -as the bus careens by Center street, but they miss thu drama the Law stages every morning on the top floor of Pc lice Headquarters. Here, ever. day at Q d. m. sharp, the Policl Lineup parades the criminals picked up the night, before. Som, for petty larceny, some for big time burglaries, others, for muir. der. The melodrama is playet before an eagle-eyed audience O plainsclotl1esmen, on a stage Il. luminated by high-powered lamps For liard-boiled souls, 1t is tn, best show in town; for weddings 1t is a gl.uesolne spectacle.
 But your correspondent con. fesses he enjoyed hearing agaii that the Empire State is the tall, est building in the world, tha Broadway si the .crossroad of thu world and that the Aquarium i still the feyorite place Of inter est.