larkin

My thanks to Patito who inspired this thread.


Have you ever lived in an inner city like London, Paris, Berlin, Singapore, Rio de Janero or in my case, New York? Did you travel by train or underground to work each day? This thread is for you to tell us about it.



Today with the upscale trend many big cities have out priced the incredible variety of people that made up the vitality and cultural soup that is the real city life.


Times Square, for better or worse, has been Disneyfied and has become safe, sterile and as empty as the amusement park it has strived to imitate. Knowing the value of an epicenter, corporate entities have moved in and squeezed out human life.


Artists, writers and talented young people that have no money is where the new ideas come from and they have been banished from the old city centers.


I believe that everyone should live in a big city at least once in your life. Not for your whole life but just for awhile, long enough for it to become part of you... Especially when you are young.



When I left home, I moved with a friend to Manhattan, more specifically, the East Village.


My first apartment was a 5 floor walk-up on 9th Street between Avenue B and C and built at the turn of the century. It was what they called a "dumbell building". It was an innovation because each room had a window to allow the circulation of air even if it was only a 6 foot wide shaft way between the next building.


When I moved there in 1970, my rent was $65. per month. The same apartment today would be at least $1800. and possibly still a rathole. There was an entry room/kitchen that included a stove, sink and a bath tub, a 12' by 12' front room that looked over the street and an 8'x 8' dark back bedroom that looked over the shaftway. There were two shared toilets in the hall for the four apartments on each floor.


In spite of the hazards and dangers surrounding my daily journeys back and forth from the East Village to Greenwich Village where I worked, This was the most interesting and exciting part of my life.


Curiously, upon recent visits, I have noticed that whatever it was, is long gone. People still slum, dress down, eat in quirky restaurants and go to bars and clubs, but when Monday comes around, they all put on suites and go up town to work at Citibank.

MrKap

It's not a huge city, but I lived in and around Toronto for a few years. It's 46 on this list.

World's Largest Cities [rank: 1-1000]

First place was right next a social housing project, because it was really cheap, it was pretty violent, and I probably wouldn't do it again. In fact the corner I was on was eventually ranked the most violent corner in all of Toronto.

Then moved across town, lived in a basement, it was okay.

Then moved to potentially an "east village" equivalent with night clubs all around, and worked out of my office for a few years. That was pretty decent.

That's about it for me.

d'artanian

I'm with Eddie Albert:

Patito de Hule

I've lived in two cities of more than a million population: Los Angeles, CA, and Lagos, Nigeria.

Los Angeles:
During WWII, I lived with my grandparents in East Los Angeles. Later known as "the Barrio" it was then mostly working class refugees from the Midwest "Dust Bowl." My grandparents had gone there in 1938 as had a number of our neighbors.

After my Dad got out of the Marines in 1945, he worked off and on building quonset huts at the Marine Corps base in Twenty-Nine Palms, CA, and we lived in a shack with no running water in Yucca Valley, on the edge of present Joshua Tree National Park. Finally we settled again back in East Los Angeles about a mile from my Arkie grandparents. There were many hispanics in East Los Angeles already, but mostly older families. One woman of our parish was over 100 and had lived there since California was part of Mexico. Only in that way could you say she was from Mexico. There were also quite a few Armenians (I called them Turks) and Italians (whom I just called by their names).

East Los Angeles began to become the "barrio" in the 1950's with the influx of a large number of 2nd generation Mexicans, then people from Mexico. Although I had learned "baby Spanish" from a baby sitter, I was forgetting it by this time as the hispanics all spoke English. By 1960, it was almost exclusively a hispanic neighborhood with almost as much Spanish being heard as English. The newest hispanics were of a lower class, though a fair number of them operated small businesses of their own. Not long after I left, the familiar Brooklyn Blvd. became Cesar Chavez Blvd. I enjoyed reading (in Spanish) the book Chicano:
because part of it was set in the familiar surroundings of my old neighborhood.

Lagos:
In Lagos all of us "aristocrats" lived on Victoria Island (like me) or on Ikoyi Island. I had a driver to take me downtown to work, though at times I would walk. It was during the Biafran War that I lived there, so I was unable to get around much in the countryside. Most of the slums were either on the main island where I worked or on the mainland. There was a tuberculosis sanatorium across the street from where I worked, and that was the extent of my contact with the very poor.

I got married shortly after returning from Nigeria and have never lived in an "inner city" since.

larkin

Patito,

Inner city or not, your story is very interesting. Los Angeles is more than one city with a number of city centers. Santa Monica is where I went to high school always amazed me how beautiful it was.

Downtown LA use to be sort of nebulas. LA is such a grid work of main drags where one city runs into another. The city of Bell, the city of Industry, Compton and Downey. to the North is Hollywood, and all that.

The year I graduated high school Joan Didion's short story collection, "Sloughing towards Bethlehem" came out and it characterized this period.

On my last visit, traveling North, Ventura, Oxnard and Camarillo spreads out like a brand new Los Angeles potentially just as big..

It would be interesting to hear more about Lagos, Nigeria.

Patito de Hule

As I said, there was a civil war going on when I lived in Nigeria, and I couldn't get around the country much. I did a lot of reading, though.

Downtown LA was downtown when I lived there; there were a lot of suburbs though. The L A slums were on Bunker Hill with the L. A. Publc Library on 5th and Hope just south of the hill. Much of that was cleaned out in the early 50's when they built the freeway. There had been a series of articles about the slums in the papers in the late 40's, and that was the end of them. Even at that young age, I wondered what they did with all the poor people.

Compton and Watts were the Black neighborhood. Compton was higher class. Watts was almost a shanty-town. In the area along Central south of Century and over to the Pacific Electric (PE) tracks was where my paternal grandfather had a farm in the 20's. The Bradford Pickle Works was a landmark coming from Long Beach to Los Angeles in the 20's, but he lost it in the depression. And by the end of the war it was slums.

Can you imagine farmland between LA and LB?

beetle

I've got a few stories. First, just a brief description of some of my experiences of being a white guy working in inner city St. Louis and living two blocks south of the northernmost midtown housing project. First, whenever I walked somewhere, I never brought my wallet. I took my driver's license; the money on me I divided into different pockets. In case I got robbed, I hoped to get away with only emptying the contents of one pocket.

I learned how to walk down the sidewalk while always being aware of my surroundings, even if I was busy chatting with someone. I tended to focus on what may be up ahead or what might be in the alley I was about to walk past.

Has anyone ever heard of a McDonald's restaurant closing? I've seen local Burger Kings and Wendys close, but never a McDonalds. However, the McDonald's across the street from my workplace closed after two guys were stabbed to death in the afternoon.

I realize I'm painting a pretty dark picture. In my experience, the vast, vast majority of people living in inner city are decent, law-abiding citizens who endure a plague of crime from local gangs and others. Over the years, my own cars - all dingy, used cars which I drove for awhile, sold or traded-in, and got another - were broken into about ten times. (I'm amazed at how efficient thieves are; they don't cause more damage than what is necessary to break into whatever they want at. Of course, they're in a hurry.) My boss owned the property next to the house I rented. The property was a former lot for wrecked vehicles. The fences surrounding the property were topped with barbed wire. I parked in the alley behind the house because one end was completely blocked by the high-fenced barrier of an Oldsmobile dealership. The other end of the alley had a tall, locked cyclone fence gate. I asked my boss if I could take down some barbed wire and put it on top that gate which guarded the other end of the alley. Yep, I decided to protect my car with barbed wire.

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One very bad story then I'll get to a couple lighter stories.

Once, at 4:30 am, a completely nude rape victim was banging on my front door. I had accidently left a light on, which no doubt brought her to my place. I let her in, grabbed my blanket and gave it to her, and called the police. I had to call 911 twice. The first time I called 911, a single police car came down the street and drove past the house. I was so furious I called 911 again and cussed the poor dispatcher. I learned later this was normal police procedure for the neighborhood. That lone police car was the "wasp" - like the sole wasp which flies around making sure the nest is safe for all the other wasps - the wasp comes through first, and if everything is OK, other police will proceed. Within minutes the front room had 4 officers and two detectives. My lone neighbor on the next block, an older gay guy (for 3-4 blocks east and west the street was nearly completely depopulated. Vacant houses, abandoned properties, and rodents were my main neighbors) told me he would have never opened his door at 4:30 in the morning. I understood what he meant, but ...

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A couple lighter stories then I'll give it a rest. One Sunday afternoon I'm watchng a 3:00 pm football game (Rams at 49ers.) My then-Toyota was parked on the street in front of the house, but I thought because the car wash across the street was open and there were people about, it was safe. Dusk wouldn't come until after the game ended, when I could move the car to the alley. After the game ended, I went out to move the car. Stuck the key in the ignition, tried to start the car. Nothing. When I get out of the car I notice that the small panel window on the rear seat passenger's side has been busted out (as I stated above, I'm impressed by how efficient theives can be.) My car battery had been stolen on a public street during a Sunday afternoon. When I was talking to the police officer I asked him, "How the hell could this happen. There were people all over the place." He answered with a classic line which I've never forgot. He said, "People look, but they don't see."

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Although I lived on a depopulated street which was only two blocks south of the northernmost midtown inner city housing project, the house was also just one block east of the midtown arts district. It's where the St. Louis symphony is located, the Fox theatre, the Black Repertory Theatre, as well as a couple bistros and a couple other entertainment venues. Unless those places were providing evening or matinee entertainment, no one from suburbia or anywhere else came to the neighborhood. I remember I was once shoveling snow, and the only sound I heard was the scrape of the shovel. No cars were driving down the street, no one was outside. It occurred to me I was like the man on the moon. I was all by myself, shoveling snow, and the only sound was that of the shovel.

Anyway, on to the story. Every now and then I did hear gunshots at night. They don't echo. They sound sort of like pock, pock-pock, or something like that. One Friday evening, about 7:30, I'm watching TV when suddenly it sounds like a war has broken out on the street outside. Massive gunfire, bursting explosions. I ate carpet. What I mean by that is I dived out of the chair and sprawled prone on the floor. The noise continued, which was odd. I finally got up and looked out the window. Turns out it was opening night for the symphony, and they were having a fireworks display. It was neat. I went outside, sat on the front steps, and watched fireworks going off right above the house.

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One last, final thing. Before I lived in that neighborhood, I had always been a dog person. But I learned to keep the stray cats in the neighborhood fed. When a few began living in the backyard, they kept the house safe from all rodents (prior to that, I did have a problem with mice and cockroaches. After a few cats began living on the property, even the cockroaches disappeared.) I became a cat person, and adopted two of the friendliest ones. I had to put one to sleep, but I still have the other city cat, though he's aging and showing signs of arthritis in his rear legs. He's an old city cat, and I'm an old city boy.

(Edit) p.s. Perhaps I should add that I and Godzy now reside in suburia. (Godzy is short for Godzilla. When he was a kitten he'd stand on his huge hind legs and swat with his tiny forearms. It reminded me of the Godzilla creature from those old Japanese movies. One day I found Godzy on the back porch. He was so tiny, just a kitten, I brought him inside to protect from other, feral cats - they could be mean. I decided to keep him. I've always had the impression he somehow got separated from his mother. A lot of cats in the neighborhood did get killed by cars or got chased off after fighting with feral cats who were protecting their "turf."

PedroCat

@Beetle: Love the fireworks story.

Having lived in London for a couple of years, I suppose the main thing that sticks with me is the sense of agitation about the place. Even back at the house, which is admittedly a decent place in a quiet area outside the centre, there is a certain anxious bustle. It makes it difficult to sleep.

The other obvious thing, I guess, is that having so many people in close proximity means we tend to devalue each other. Even on a train leaving London to the surrounding towns, people apologise when they bump into you etc., but not in the tube. We're just meat.

beetle

It seems like in heavily populated or crowded places, people have places they need to get to, and they don't have time to deal with each other in a friendly manner. You are just meat, needing to get to your destination on time, and courtesies cost time.

I am familiar with Chicago and Washington, DC. Chicago is horrendous, but I've found Wash DC people to be much more friendly. Maybe it has something to do with what's referred to as "Southern hospitality." However, I prefer a smaller, less-populated place like St. Louis any day. I've got another, very short story about this in a moment ...

In regard to sleep, I am glad I lived where I did. People in my area did indeed complain about noise late at night (3:00 am) in the more affluent Central West End (west of my midtown location) and downtown. I didn't have to endure such stuff.

I realize I painted a pretty dark picture of inner city life (although I didn't live in the inner city, just on the edge of it) because I focused on crime. But I also enjoyed a fairly vibrant social life. I lived one block east of the arts district. It was great to be able to just step out the door, walk one block and attend a play or show. My lone neighbor was an architect and also did landscaping work for some pretty affluent folks. He always invited me to parties, so I got to rub elbows with people of a much higher socio-economic class than myself. I enjoyed it.

The story: At one such party I asked a visiting NYer what he thought of St. Louis. He replied, "St. Louis has one of everything." What he meant was that unlike New York, which has multiple venues of just about everything, St. Louis did have everything, but just one of each: one arts museum, one major theatrical venue, one major city park, one baseball team, etc.

p.s. I think the OP wasn't necessarily focused on inner city, but rather on urban neighborhoods and their gentrification.

There's one matter I haven't addressed. My location was notorious for prostitution (including male prostitutes) and also included drug dealing. One day I walk out the front the door and see a pair of athletic shoes, tied together by their strings, hanging from a power line. It was a gang sign indicating drugs were available in the area.

In regard to prostitution, I advise everyone to ignore how it's portrayed in Hollywood movies or on TV shows. It's very ugly and also dangerous, and there's nothing attractive about the persons involved. Sometimes before driving to work I would go to a local fast food restaurant to get a coffee or some breakfast thing. I took a short cut. At a certain street corner, at 6:00 am in the morning, a local prostitute would be at the stop sign, signalling male drivers like myself. She'd point and have this look on her face such as "You want?" She was very skinny, which indicated she was no doubt a drug addict. Yep, there were prostitutes who went out early in the morning in order to catch potential customers on their way to work.

At night I could look out the window and see prostitutes and drug dealers hanging around the corner of the street. I sort of had an unwritten agreement: You don't bother me and I won't bother you. My neighbor once called police because several were sitting in front of his house. The next night a couple of his windows were busted out. I didn't need that sort of problem.

MrKap

I guess I have a few stories. I once met this couple that were down on their luck, so I gave them a place to stay for while, until he confided with me that he was wanted for manslaughter, so the next few days I asked them to leave (got my roommate to ask them because I was too scared to face them). In hindsight it was probably cruel, but it was scary enough that I couldn't have them stay. Awkward to say the least.

The place I lived was next to a church which always had people in the parking lot, or around the sidewalk. I guess it doubled as a soup kitchen or what not. I never needed a TV, because I could just look out the window and watch what was going on. There were always people up to something, whether they were mouthing each other off, whether the police had just taken someone down, ect.

There was also a strip club about half a block away, right out the window, so that was interesting. It was a real dive. Nuff said about that one.

The drugs were bad, there was a sterotypical $5.00 crack hooker that was always right round the side of the apts. She was constantly soliciting with no shame and practically begging. She would beg. Right out of a movie. Just to imagine the area, if someone did go off with her, I could only expect that they wouldn't come back out of the alleyway. That's how sketchy the area was.

Eventually I did get mugged in an elevator, and one time I got jumped by a bunch of younger kids who wanted my bags. They sucker punched me. I think they were Somalians. They all had accents.

I had cockroaches in the apt, but it wasn't too bad, what was bad was the fires. When I moved in, the hallway was clean, but as the months went by, new fire stains started to pop up as if people were lighting mini bonfires on the floor. I never spent too much time in the hallways. They were empty for the most part anyways. I did have my place robbed once and it was cleaned out, but I didn't have too much in the way of valuables.

I learned to figure out who was friendly and who was a threat early on. Typically the people who are dangerous just wear it. They are looking for trouble and you can see it in their posture ect. So I learned to steer clear of some streets, especially the halfway house around the corner. Shying away from people in fear usually just turned you into a target for harassment. So I learned not to flinch or show fear, so to speak.

The old timers were great people, they're never a threat, it was the younger the person was, the more potentially dangerous they were. What a bad stereotype, but that's the way I saw it.

It was a pretty bad neighbourhood. Foot patrol always walked in pairs, and they wore bullet proof jackets. Surprisingly it was the most diverse ethnic mix I've ever seen. It wasn't a black neighborhood, a white neighborhood, or brown, ect... it was just a poor neighborhood as if every single ethnicity was a accounted for in near equal proportions. It was great, except everyone was poor.

On the other side, I eventually moved to a "posh" street across town where all the hipsters had moved into the area, and devalued the "street cred" of the place, according to the "hardcore". Not a rich area, but not a poverty stricken area either. I had a nightclub a stone throw out window. It was decent mix of music. From rock to punk, to techno, to goth. There were small nightclubs all over. It was a much busier corner, and while there were homeless people constantly in the area, setting up camp on the sidewalks and stuff. Overall the area had more money, so it was just a safer area. jmo... I never ran into any trouble over there. Whether it be 4 in morning, or broad daylight. There were rare instances of petty theft, but in general it was more civilized (if you don't include all the drunks).

At one point I decided to become a club promoter, and that's when things really got fun. Decided that surrounding myself with hundreds/thousands of people on a daily basis in order to gain experience in social situations was a job worth having.

It was actually some of the best years of my life.