Frank Hosticka has just let me know that Alan Walstrom, a very long time Horatio Street resident, has passed away, found in his home at 84 Horatio St. Frank, and all who had the pleasure of Alan’s acquaintance, deeply mourn his death.

It might have been Roz Savage, a 37-year-old former management consultant, who set out on November 27 to row single-handed across the Atlantic from the Canaries to Antigua. She is the only solo female competitor in the 3000-mile Atlantic Rowing Race.

And today, she occupied her mind by dreaming she was walking down the Greenwich Village streets she loves. Read more in her online diary.

In any case, we are certainly overflowing with wonderful used bookstores as in this charming article from Pace Press.

Many of her memories revolve around Horatio street, where she had her first apartment in the West Village. Most shocking (striking?) to me was the following description of Horatio Street:

When I lived on Horatio, crazy, obese Lucille, “the mayor of Horatio St.” who was murdered in the 1990s, would go through the garbage and read out loud, with commentary, in a sort of street theater performance the letters, bank statements, bills and warning notices of whichever neighbors she was fighting with at the time. Horatio St. in those days was a cesspool; the stench of blood, spilled offal and rotting meat from the Meat Market was so overpowering, not only did you not want to sit on your stoop, you also often didn’t want to open your window.

Does anyone else remember these days, either fondly or otherwise?