"He declared, in front of his old apartment complex, on West Seventy-first, “This is it! The ugliest building on the block.” It certainly was. “Four hundred and seventy-five dollars a month,” he explained. “My friends and I would take gourds up to the roof, after Halloween, and toss them off. The goal was to shot-put a pumpkin so you hit the street between the rows of parked cars—you’d really have to use your geometry. When someone misjudged, we’d do the right thing, and run away."