Phil, I’ll do you one better: From my hotel window diagonally across from the corner of Central Park South and Central Park West at Columbus Circle during the Dinkins years (a term avoided by tinted-glasses wear Mr. Yglesias), I remember watching drug-dealers making transactions in broad streetlight, with nary a cop ever in sight. As for Third Avenue, I walked it at night a few times in the East 60s in those years — and it was as empty as Northern Virginia became after hours when the sniper killers were on the loose several years ago. I presumed then that fear of muggers was keeping everyone safe indoors. Empty streets are frightened streets.
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