“As long as I have my health and a kick in the butt, I’m going to be here.”
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Before it moved to Church Street, the hub for queer literature got its start in a garage in the market.
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“From my apartment above the egg shop, I learned to love – school, freedom, the sounds of the city at night.“
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“Wherever we looked, we saw another friendly face, bathed in that red light, having a great time.”
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“Nothing in the market happens without Tom knowing about it.“
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“Stranger pushed us to take reggae further.”
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“The world is a hard place. Cheese says, don’t be so serious.”
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“I remember Joey, gentle, towering, bending down to pet a sidewalk cat as if he were a tree in a storybook leaning over to rescue a child.”
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Over the past hundred years, our catchment has produced athletes luminous in our imagination. There are skaters, runners, swimmers, grapplers. There are scullers, scrappers and riders. You could debate this list and its order forever. But, more than a ranking, we hope it’s a discovery, a reminder of the great athletes who walked – and swam, fought and jumped – among us.
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