Monday, April 30, 2007

I Left My Heart on West Street

West Street, that most blessed street in New London, is home to many colorful characters, some more notorious than others. The street directory reads like Dick Tracy's rogues gallery. Sometimes, when people are putting out their trash for Monday-morning pick-up, West Street looks like a police line-up more than a neighborhood.

West Street is, in fact, west of some things, but not in any way that is remarkable. It has no connection with anyone with the last name of 'West.' Why West Street is called West Street is the caprice of some forgotten New London street-namer.

For the people who have made their home on West Street, it is hard for them to be away for long. This is true of anywhere in New London, but it is particularly acute on West Street. There must be something addictive in the pipes.

The homes along West Street range from imposing to doll-sized. In one juxtaposition, the smallest house is across the street from a large, brick apartment building. The apartment building is called "The Marquis." West Street is home to nobility.

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