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George Washington From The Bronx? 

I GREW up in the rough-and-tumble Morrisania section of the East Bronx. I’m not sure when Morrisania’s gangs began, but they were already there during the Revolutionary War.

It wasn’t patriots and Tories who battled it out in Morrisania during the British occupation of Manhattan, a period that lasted from 1776 to 1783, but their surrogates, called Skinners and Cowboys, who scalped men, molested women and murdered children of both sides.

The gangs of Boston Road and Southern Boulevard circa 1950 weren’t as mean and malicious, but I lived in a whirlwind of chaos nevertheless, where I was my own urban guerrilla who had to battle his way to school block by block.

There were terrible racial and religious divides in Morrisania. I belonged to the little enclave of poor Polish and Russian Jews that collected at the borders of Crotona Park.

There might have been physicists living in the Byzantine palaces of Crotona Park East, but they were failed physicists, men inhabiting some mysterious cocoon that no one could explain, least of all themselves.

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Wishful Riverdale Commuters Willing To Trade The Rail Fore The Shore

“As you can see,” Ari Hoffnung says of the commute by ferry along the Hudson River, “there’s no traffic or congestion here.”

ARI HOFFNUNG, a rosy-cheeked 34-year-old bundled in a dark overcoat over his business suit, boarded the 7:50 a.m. ferry from Yonkers as a rising sun bathed the Palisades in golden light. Seagulls squawked overhead, and whitecaps licked the edge of the yellow, high-speed catamaran as it glided smoothly down the Hudson River.

“As you can see,” Mr. Hoffnung said as he surveyed the river from his perch at the bow of the boat, “there’s no traffic or congestion here. No tolls. No delays.”

His point was underscored four miles south of Yonkers as the ferry passed Riverdale, where Mr. Hoffnung lives. Gazing wistfully at the shoreline, he imagined out loud how convenient it would be if the ferry could stop and pick up passengers there.

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