Ya Gotta Love It

When you pass away at 91 there is a good chance there is going to something in your obituary that comes from another era. In this case something probably coming from as far back as the Kennedy Administration. And when the obituary is written by the redoubtable Robert McFadden, you can count on the nugget being pure gold.

John Wilcock, a person described as a key figure in the birth of the Underground Press in New York passed away at 91. Mr. Wilcock was British by birth, but gained fame as a journalist and travel author, principally in the 50s, 60s and 70s, perhaps the golden era in New York for Bohemian, Beat Generation lifestyles.

His influence was so subtle the New York Times once described him "an influential man nobody knows." My kind of guy. Pictured above, the guy looks like a pure scamp.

The instance of what to be is pure poetry and hilarity occurred in 1963 when John, a photographer, and a nude model (gender not disclosed) were arrested on a Sunday morning at Liberty and Broadway streets in Manhattan on charges of "disturbing the peace." (Time of day not disclosed.)

Anyone who remembers anything about the 60s in New York should remember that Liberty and Broadway, in the Financial District, on a Sunday morning, would be as dead as the proverbial doornail.

Streets in New York on a Sunday in that era were especially quiet since stores did not open. It wasn't that they opened late, no, they plain didn't open. There was no Sunday department store shopping unit the early 70s.

For reference, Liberty and Broadway is where the World Trade Center was built in the early 70s, and where the Freedom Tower and all the new construction has been built post-9/11. The place is busy every day of the week these days. Sure, the stock exchange is closed, but there are now residential buildings throughout the financial center. People live down there. The residential Battery Park City, built from the landfill created by excavating the Twin Towers, was built.

When the composition of the area started to change in the 70s, Beekman-Downtown hospital started to notice their ER actually got patients in on weekends. The place changed.

I used to take photos of the Meat Packing District when they used to pack meat down there, and not people. But they didn't pack meat on Sundays. Your footsteps echoed on the pavement. Pigeons outnumbered pedestrians. You get the idea. The place was deserted on Sundays, and especially on Sunday mornings.

Add to this, the 60s were not an era of acceptance of exotic/erotic behavior. Gays were locked in the closet, public nudity at beaches and elsewhere was aggressively pursued. Lenny Bruce was constantly being arrested for using vulgar words in his nightclub act and for making satire about the Catholic Church. New York had a prurient streak that would be not recognized by anyone today.

The court the charges were heard in is not disclosed. The judge who made the ruling when the case for "disturbing the peace" is not named. But the judge threw the case out of court with the simple wisdom that at the location, at that time of time, the only "peace" being disturbed was that of the arresting detective. Case dismissed!

I like to think whoever that judge was that they ascended the judicial hierarchy and may have even been short-listed for a Federal judgeship or Supreme Court nomination.

When logic prevails it should be rewarded.

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