
There is nary a bar in sight. Not a single boutique. The handful of restaurants serve tostones and chicharones, not goat cheese tapas or tuna tartare. Tough-looking boys hold tough-looking pit bulls at the end of steel chains, mothers push shopping carts to coin laundries, and wrinkled old men in newsboy caps putter in front of the grocery store, keeping a cagey eye on the street.
Avenue D may be the East Village's final frontier; the only thing further east is the river. The sprawling Jacob Riis and Lillian Wald housing projects, which house a total of nearly 9,000 people, have long acted as a sort of break-wall, toppling approaching waves of gentrification and keeping them pooled back near Avenues A and B."
To many, Avenue D is not where you want to live. To others it is where they have to live.
To us...
This is our neighborhood. This is our city. Our beautiful city.
This is our prayer:
LORD, I have heard of your fame;
I stand in awe of your deeds, LORD.
Renew them in our day,
in our time make them known;
in wrath remember mercy.
Habakkuk 3:2