Greetings from the Concrete Canyons of New York City, hereafter noted as NYC. This journal, written for Mike Allen's Urban Sociology class at George Fox College, is not designed to be a thorough sociological study of the nation's largest city.  That can be gleaned from text books.  What I'm providing is observations of an Oregonian who grew up on a farm, as I am struck by the incredible diversity and culture of the city with more Jews than Jerusalem, more Irish than Dublin, more Italians than Rome.  Here I've seen NYC stereotypes reinforced and shattered every day.

While working on a graduate degree in theatre, I'm living and working in The Lamb's Center, a six story building containing a homeless care project, The Lamb's Manhattan Church of the Nazarene, The Lamb's Theatre Company (putting on Equity, off-Broadway plays on two separate stages), Here's Life Inner City (National and New York headquarters), Impact (support agency for Christian models), Center for Urban Strategy Development, the Lamb's Christian Counseling Center, the Indo-Pak Nazarene Church [Indians and Pakistanis, former Hindus and former Muslims, worshipped Christ together], the Korean Nazarene Church, Open Gate Fellowship (a support group for AIDS victims, Advocates for Recovery, CODA, and several support groups for drug and alcohol addicts.  We're located half a block off of Times Square, "The Crossroads of the World," named after the New York Times, which is [Indians and Pakistanis, former Hindus and former Muslims, worshipped Christ together], the Korean Nazarene Church, Open Gate Fellowship (a support group for AIDS victims, Advocates for Recovery, CODA, and several support groups for drug and alcohol addicts.  We're located half a block off of Times Square, "The Crossroads of the World," named after the New York Times, which is [Indians and Pakistanis, former Hindus and former Muslims, worshipped Christ together], the Korean Nazarene Church, Open Gate Fellowship (a support group for AIDS victims, Advocates for Recovery, CODA, and several support groups for drug and alcohol addicts.  We're located half a block off of Times Square, "The Crossroads of the World," named after the New York Times, which is [Indians and Pakistanis, former Hindus and former Muslims, worshipped Christ together], the Korean Nazarene Church, Open Gate Fellowship (a support group for AIDS victims, Advocates for Recovery, CODA, and several support groups for drug and alcohol addicts.  We're located half a block off of Times Square, "The Crossroads of the World," named after the New York Times, which is [Indians and Pakistanis, former Hindus and former Muslims, worshipped Christ together], the Korean Nazarene Church, Open Gate Fellowship (a support group for AIDS victims, Advocates for Recovery, CODA, and several support groups for drug and alcohol addicts.  We're located half a block off of Times Square, "The Crossroads of the World," named after the New York Times, which is [Indians and Pakistanis, former Hindus and former Muslims, worshipped Christ together], the Korean Nazarene Church, Open Gate Fellowship (a support group for AIDS victims, Advocates for Recovery, CODA, and several support groups for drug and alcohol addicts.  We're located half a block off of Times Square, "The Crossroads of the World," named after the New York Times, which is 

published here.

Here's the passage confirming the day and even the hour: 

12/18/93

When I first saw NYC, I was struck by its immensity, its structured attempt to scrape the sky.  I was not struck by fear as I thought I might be, but by pure exhilaration.  I had finally arrived.

The fear hit me as we rose out of the Lincoln Tunnel.  Yet it wasn't fear as much as a sense of being overwhelmed. 

As we moved all of my belongings from the parking garage to The Lamb’s I was constantly waiting for someone to run up and take something.  As people had told me, I didn't look anyone in the eye. [I know I arrived just before noon because poor were lined up outside The Lamb's Center for the free lunches they served at the time. I think I was ashamed to write that I wouldn't accept offers to help carry my belongings from the people I would soon be serving meals to, but I have a strong recollection of that fear.]

On opening the door to my room I was truly depressed to find it about 12' X 12’ [I later measured it: 8’ x 10’, a headshot x 12]. At least my view was extensive.  I'm sure I could see over 1,000 bricks plus a couple of windows.

And here's my favorite entry:

12/20

Bryan Boyd, GFC junior, was my travelling companion across the states as he performed the one-man play, Damien. This morning I took him by cab back to JFK for his flight back HOME. The meter kept racing upward, not stopping until it reached $25.50 [today it’s over $100]—Ouch!  I could have parked 24 hours for that price! As it was, after scoping out the area I was able to find a garage for only $8.03 for 24 hours: a literal bargain around here. We paid $15 just to park for three hours while we unloaded the truck.

Not having $25 bucks to throw into a 15 minute ride [I guess the ride out went by fast—that ride actually takes 45-90 minutes, depending on traffic], I hopped a subway back from JFK. 

[I’m surprised I didn’t write this at the time, but after our cab ride we had $2 between us. I told Bryan to keep it, because I had an NYC subway token in my trench coat. It was given to me by our theatre prof, Mel Schroeder, and it was one of the signs I needed that the Lord was leading me to move there. Bryan pointed out that they’d feed him on the plane — which they did in those days — and family would pick him up at the airport, so I finally agreed to take the two singles. When I got to the turnstile my token wouldn’t fit! In those days, every time they’d raise the fare they’d make the tokens and slots smaller, so the less valuable tokens wouldn’t work. In those days you could ride the subway all day for less than $2, so I bought a new token and was on my way.]

It took me three hours.  I guess you get what you pay for.  

Deep in the heart of Brooklyn the train came to a screeching halt.  The poor speaker system mumbled about something being on the track.  We were all ushered onto the platform where we could see the something was a woman.  It was an elevated track, so as we took the stairs down to the street we could see her feet dangling down.  I heard as many explanations of what had happened as their were tongues to speak opinions.  The crowd was pushing, shoving, shouting.  As someone who grew up on a farm, my best guess was they were about to riot.  I asked God if He was sure this was really supposed to be my new home.  My mind was filled with the lyrics of Rich Mullins’ “I See You”: “Lord You’re leading me/With a cloud by day/And then in the night/The glow of a burning flame/And everywhere I go I see You…”  My soul was flooded with the sense that God was in control, and in the multitudes I saw the the Lord was there with me.          

                      

Ever since, I've been content living here. 

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