The Waterbury Democrat., 1946-10-01
NEW YoRK's BLACK MAGIC

packed tight with silence extending | as far as the ear can reach . Restless breezes hold 8 whispered l tete-a-tete as they hum around cor nerS Mountains of shadows waltz gracefully across gutterS :. Darkened windows are whitewaShed with moonshine, and the luminous buildings stand like frozen ghosts Street lamps poke fingers of light through the inky sky Still ness grips the atmosphere in lov- er's embrace. The sinister beauty of ebony silence prowlS the streets searching for the dreams of poets.
 Central Park spills its scenic treas Nre in the dark . Fallen leaves frolic with balmy windS-indulging in their whackrobatics Trees drip with greenery Winding roads are disturbed only by the me- tallic gargle of passing cars .. Sometimes it's so quiet-you can hear the castenetS of crickets Spacious lawns are patches of natural beauty in the stone and steel landscape The surrounding skyline is coated with moonglow Flashlights of the patroling park police turn on and off like giant fireflieS.
 The Main Stem during the pre- dawn hours settles down to a para 1ytic pace. Its bonfire. of activity has been quenched and only tiny Eickers of energy remain. When the mazda display is snuffed out the streets shallow gayety vaniShes like dreams Only the dim Nights of an-night eateries blink through the midnightness :. Broadway loaferS perch around tables and gnaw on their unimport- ant opinions. The speaker doesn't Interest anybody, and nobody inter eStS the speaker The Grandest Canyon is cushioned with calm while t patiently waits for the soundless crack of dawn.
 There are always humans haunt ing the town from midnight to sunrise. Many of them are rootless people, whitening and waiting for zeroS Many are sinful and shameless. Most are the homeless and the lonely, who have found life a continual war. The serenity of night seems to offer them a little peace Torch-luggers (who cannot sleep) wander through the streets like ghosts of dead loves. The night brings out the muggerS and felonS who make a Jungle of their sector There are unhappy alcoholics spouting theT depressing autobiographies.
 N's so quiet you can hear the crisp rustic of newspaper pages be- ing turned. Or your cars motor purr Night workers gaze through leaden-lidded orbs and swap empty stares A gust of wind heralds the approach of 8 bsas or Broadway trolley as they wreck the wall of silence . Cleaners sweep the Uttered pave Ments-the swiSh-sWiSh-swish of brooms and hose providing an &C., compartment for a symphony of boredom Monotony finds a home here.
 Harlem usually is brimming with excitement. That sector never stops to catch it's breath. Some of it's streets are as busy during the middle-of-the-night as they are at noon Though Harlem is plagued by poverty, there are more amusement spots here than any other part of town Prosti- tootsies weave their swivel hips :. Trouble-makers pour from bars. Police cars snake in and out of the 28th Precinct, where 100000 poverty stricken people are punched in a square mile.
 Night-clubbers who swept into places like squirtS of seltzer-now exit with all the fizz taken out them The doorman appears to be the only one whose face isn't Smudged with fatigue And there is always the glum sight of 8 lady lush looking as though she had just stepped out of nightmare People trying to clutch a little merriment with noisy desper- ation.
 Throughout the night there are odd keddikters who are always star ring in their own taWdry sideshoW (. Unfortunates taking an in- ventory of garbage cans, trying to find something that might be o1 value The legless mendicant reciting risgay poems for the edi- fication of paSserSby Moronit teen-agers who stay up until al hours of the night hoping to snare a useless autograph.
 The soft chill of early morning B ignored by levers as they wrar themselves in the warmth of theil romance. Here is Paradise in ac' ton Peace is here and life il 8 waltz Their personal fortress O. blue skies and stars shuts out tht grim headlines. Castles-in-the-aiI are furnished with bright hopes .. Whispers unfold, the old bu thrilling tale In world Whert hate, faminine and violence art common disasters - lovers engaged in lingering goodnight in the quie streets of Big City-represent ; miniature miracle.
 Police cars browsing through tn streets, alertly shifting for any sigl of trouble. They cruise along at moderate pace when things are dul but spurt forward like scald ed cat when they go into action Those super-charged buggies whi like Cancellations On thei way to the scene of a crime the. mow down time and dare-devi their way around corners - whil their sirens vail like a woundet prehistoric animal Efficien and courageous police work rates