Vanishing New York Backup

Yesterday, I marched with the Black Lives Matter rally and protest that kicked off from Union Square and traveled to the West Side Highway and through the Village. I broke off there, but they continued their march, until night fell and they settled back at Union Square. In the dark, the protest turned into a rebellion, some call it a riot, as protesters smashed and set fire to police vehicles and broke the windows of nearby bank chains. I went back out around 10:30 p.m when the streets of the East Village were silent, except for the sound of police helicopters overhead. Second Avenue was covered in trash and burned mattresses left on the sidewalk by the people who've moved out after coronavirus. Protesters had smashed windows and Link surveillance kiosks, leaving the streets littered with broken glass and the charred remains of mattresses. On Broadway, between 8th and 12th Streets, the protesters were quiet behind a police barricade. Some lit fires in trash cans stre

VANISHED Another small-business casualty of the coronavirus shutdown, Foley's pub on West 33rd has closed for good. This afternoon, owner Shaun Clancy posted a sad video on Twitter to say,  "Foley's won't reopen. Just with everything that's going on, there's just no way that I see that we can do it." He thanks his customers and family, and concludes, "This is the end of the inning, but not the end of the game." Foley's, located in an antique barroom featuring many original features, overflows with a stunning array of baseball memorabilia. I've enjoyed a few burgers there over the years and once got an impromptu tour from Shaun's father, John Clancy , who pointed out the pistol he got from mobster Frank Costello and told about his days working at Toots Shor's, serving Frank Sinatra and Jackie Gleason. Foley's was a true New York original. Pour one out.

What's it like on the streets of the city during the pandemic? In my recent travels, mostly around Manhattan, I've seen so much of the beauty, spontaneity, and eccentricity that makes New York feel like New York. I am posting the photos on my Instagram page and hope you'll take a look.

VANISHED John Jovino, the oldest gun shop in the United States, has closed for good after 109 years in business in Little Italy. Founded in 1911 by John Jovino, and originally located in the gun center around the corner on Centre Market Place, the store was purchased by the Imperato family in the 1920s and has been run by Charlie Hu since 1995. It's been featured in many films, including Mean Streets and Serpico , and its famous wooden revolver sign has been a landmark in the neighborhood for over a century. Charlie removed his mask briefly for this socially distanced shot.  All photos by Stacie Joy. Charlie, also known as "Gun King Charlie," was packing up the shop this week and graciously consented to speak with Vanishing New York about the end of an era. Stacie Joy visited with her camera and listened to Mr. Hu tell his story. Like many small business people who are forced to close, having a compassionate ear is an important part of saying goodbye. "

The dismantling of our dearly departed Gem Spa continues today. After yesterday's removal of the lighted signs and yellow awnings , workers are carefully removing another, more delicate sign. Previously hidden, the sign has GEM SPA painted on glass. Owner Parul Patel tells me it appeared in a number of movies, including 200 Cigarettes (which I recommend only for the scenes of the East Village in the 90s-- I wrote about it here ). 200 Cigarettes Parul told me the signs are safely in storage. She hopes that one day, on the other side of the pandemic, there might be another life for Gem Spa. Who knows? In the meantime, there is still merch .

I missed this sad news, until I saw this memorial on a wall of plywood at Mulberry and Grand in Little Italy. Vincent Cirelli Sabatino, lovingly known as Vinny Peanuts, died on April 13 from complications of COVID-19. He was 68 years old. His family posted the announcement on Instagram . He ran Vinny's Nut House, a fixture on the corner for nearly 50 years. At the Feast of San Gennaro, the stand was always brightly lit and busy, with Vinny cutting big bricks of torrone with a knife and a hammer. It was a beautiful thing. Vinny was one of the last holdouts of authentic Little Italy. As he told Pavement Pieces a decade ago, “There’s no more Italians left. There are no more stands like me. Before, there used to be 10 stands down just this one block that sold Italian food, just like mine. Now, I’m the only one left.” I always got his lemon cookies, which were the best. Just the best.

It's happening. Right now. The Gem Spa sign has been removed from the building. The yellow awning is going with it. Thanks to Michael Quinn for sending in these sad shots of the wreckage: The word "iconic" gets thrown around quite a bit when it comes to New York's classic small businesses, but with Gem Spa, it fits. Earlier this month we learned that Gem would be closing for good , felled by greed and coronavirus crisis, after decades of standing sentinel on St. Mark's Place, and after a long battle in which many of us tried like hell to keep it alive. As long as the sign stood, it felt like Gem was still there, just waiting for the shutdown to lift, and maybe there was still a chance. This is truly the end. And into a U-Haul: Update: Parul tells me, "We will be auctioning the signs, the gates, the egg cream fountain, and old milkshake machine. We are also trying to get the egg cream counter out and will auction that too if we can get it

What happened to the wooden revolver hanging off the sign of John Jovino's in Little Italy? ( See my update here on the fate of the sign--and the closing of the shop .) It was there and now it's gone. Maybe they put it away for safekeeping during the coronavirus shutdown? Jovino's has been in business since 1911 and used to be around the corner on Centre Market Place, before the block was luxurified by the Novogratz family. ( I wrote all about it here. ) I don't know how old this particular Jovino gun is, but an earlier version of it shows up in a photo by the great crime photographer Weegee, who lived in a one-room apartment above the shop from the mid-1930s until 1947. Weegee The gun also made an appearance in the 1973 Al Pacino movie Serpico . It makes for a very photogenic antique sign and I hope it returns.