Three communities near Cleveland, Ohio celebrated the fifth anniversary of the big lights-out by having another blackout.
Joe My God reminisces: “I went home to my then-apartment on Bleecker Street where my roommate and I sat on the fire escape and read by his leftover menorah candles. Days later we learned that apparently we were the only gays in town not dancing in the streets or enjoying giant impromptu sex parties in flashlight-lit bars.”
We missed that too: we walked from West 50th Street to Williamsburg, half-enjoying the crowds camped outside high-rise hotels, citizen traffic cops, bonfire street parties, and the general air of friendly cooperation, which New Yorkers always seem to pull off in a pinch.
What did you do?