The
elevated railroad erected in the 1870s over the Bowery served as
a dirty and obvious symbol of the area's decline. The tracks, which
ran mere feet away from some buildings, blocked sunlight to the
streets below. Popping up and thriving like mushrooms in this darkness
were flophouses, brothels and cheap saloons. A stroll on what once
was a bucolic lane leading to Peter Stuyvesant's farm became a walk
along the path of vice.
During the 1950s, the filthy and unsightly elevated lines were torn
down, leaving the only rail transportation below the streets. These
tracks occasionally draw a crowd that embodies a certain spirit
of the old Bowery days. Today's 'derelicts and deviants' are more
likely to stroll these railways with a can of Rusto in hand, rather
than a bottle. Like the many authors and artists who have immortalized
the bouwerij, these writers also leave their mark, but few
will see it.