Once a garden with a clubhouse where cookouts and conversation were had, everything died the minute a developer stepped in to sell the lot. Before the “Corn Lot” (as I called it) was destroyed, rows and rows of corn were planted each spring; the corn stalks were an incongruous, nearly surreal thing to see on a city street. One felt elated walking by this busy, green place bowered under two tall trees.
The lot has sat derelict now for years and years, full of rats that plague the residents of the nearby apartment building. There should be a law against this kind of blind destruction of delicate habitats.