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Hold the line at 75 To The Editor: General Theological Seminary’s proposal was bigger and higher than the 75 feet allowed in the Chelsea Historic District. The 15-story building across the street from G.T.S. was built before the Chelsea District zoned the area to allow no buildings to rise above 75 feet. Just look around and see how many neighbors are hanging up their fliers to support and protect the district.
To The Editor:
To The Editor: I object strongly to Matt Foreman’s recent column on the General Theological Seminary’s proposed development project. Foreman’s prejudiced diatribe claims that opposition to the project arises from homophobia. He is wrong — and wrong to say so in the way he did. The problem is the plan itself: The proposed building is simply too tall. G.T.S. should not be allowed to breach the height restrictions that protect the Chelsea Historic District. Everyone has to comply with the landmark provisions and the zoning code. There are no God-given rights that apply here. There are plenty of ways to solve G.T.S.’s financial problems that do not involve violating the historic district. G.T.S. has fixated on this big building as an easy way out of their issues, egged on by their business partner, whose interest is only in the project itself. If G.T.S. came up with a proposal that fit within the requirements for the district, then the opposition to the plan would fade away.
To The Editor: Now I no longer have to get Chelsea Clinton News, especially since they hardly ever have much about Chelsea anyway.
To The Editor: I was very disturbed by your biased article sanctifying the heliport at W. 30th St., which is owned by the politically and financially well-connected Trenk family. You reported that the heliport’s small dock is one of the busiest heliports in the world, open around the clock, seven days a week. To be clear, the helicopters’ terrible noise and pollution, the disturbance of the Hudson’s fragile ecosystem and the constant threat to the safety of Manhattan airspace is no cause for celebration! This type of economic activity killed the very purpose of the Hudson River Park, especially since the heliport sits next to a newly created wildlife sanctuary. It was also shocking to hear former public officers like Betsy McCaughey and Robert Balachandran, the former C.E.O. and president of the Hudson River Park Trust, and Vince McGowan speak like paid lobbyists in favor of the heliport. They betrayed their mission to keep the park quiet and beautiful for everyone to enjoy without being exposed to the obnoxious presence of dozens of helicopters hovering around like in a war zone. It’s time for the nearby residents and other friends of the Hudson River Park to organize a coalition demanding the immediate closure of the W. 30th St. heliport. Why was the lease renewed and who authorized the renewal? The answer to this question should be open to public scrutiny. The completion of the park must be an absolute priority and should not be delayed any longer by a heliport sitting right smack in its middle.
To The Editor: I remember Judith Malina but not only in connection with the theater. I saw “The Connection” and “The Brig,” of course. But at 100 Centre St., at night court, I recall correctly, I think, when she was arrested with a score of others for protesting air raid drills. Air raid drills? Yes! They were still going on in preparation for the war the Reds — Socialist Soviets — were making on us. Judith was in distinguished (antiwar) company, which included Dorothy Day, A.J. Muste, Dave Dellinger, Ammon Hennessy, Eileen Fantino, Mary Ann McCoy and others. And they all sat conspicuously out of doors together and refused to take shelter in an air raid shelter; their position was that these air raid drills were being perpetuated to promote war fever. And Ammon and Dorothy and Dave and others had gone to jail from their youth to protest war making. Mike Harrington and I, who had been at the Catholic Worker at the same time a couple of years before and were contributing to Commonweal, walked over from the White Horse to 100 Centre St. in the warm late-spring evening. Did we really walk? It seemed like a stroll. And in the night court — it seemed like a great hall — Mike remarked that whenever he entered a courtroom he automatically became an anarchist. (He was, of course, the premier American Socialist after the death of Norman Thomas.) And we sat 20 rows back, at the side. The about-to-be-judged antiwar protesters were brought in, and stood in a long, informal line across the well of the court while the judge — forget his name — quietly attended to his paperwork. Judith Malina and Eileen Fantino were standing together to the left of the bench and were quietly chatting and tittering. The judge looked up and sharply reprimanded them, but Judith didn’t allow it to pass and gave him a spunky riposte. Immediately, loudly, the judge ordered her arrested by court officers, who advanced to take hold of her, which she resisted and screamed. By this time, the courtroom was filled with supporters and spectators, and we rose to our feet. Judith’s husband, who was among us in the citizen’s seats, went into the center aisle, crying out her name — full stage voice — a tall, slender man, and, of course, he was seized by court officers, and the judge barked out another order and within minutes the immense courtroom was lined with cops, standing literally shoulder to shoulder around the four walls. Judith was literally carried out. The court was cleared. Michael and I returned to the White Horse.
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