The Gas Mask & The Ghastly Grim Reaper

How I Walked Out Of The Grisly NY Subway Underground Disaster of 1990 Unfazed

I was headed out to Brooklyn in New York city on the IRT #3 on December 29th, 1990 in the morning to check on my book supplier, a really nice Orthodox man who kept a big secret warehouse out there literally right under the noses of the gangsters who lived in the Red Hook housing projects. I had managed to run out of books to sell again on my stand. Nothing left but cheap 50 cent romance novels and old copies of National Geographic. Scraped out my storage room in midtown Manhattan until I had almost nothing left that would sell in the next hundred years any time soon. I wanted to restock because the first week of January in the New Year would always be a big profit week if you had the books. The New Yorkers who had managed to avoid suiciding over the holidays for another year would be in the mood for a good read and they had their money ready. All I needed were the right books to sell them.