Abstract
It was an ash dump, a firehall, a market for butchers, a place to relax for Chinese residents, and home to an alligator that roamed the city at night. Most oddly, it was in the middle of a street—a long, thin rectangle plopped in the middle of Second Avenue. It’s been erased for more than a century, but the site’s footprint lives on in a stealthy way.
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