From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Sight
The sky is a blur of biplanes and wool jerseys as 20,000 soldiers surge up Fifth Avenue, a sea of olive drab that nearly buckles under the weight of this frantic, cheering crowd. I clutched my coat tight, watching a man get trampled in the crush near Madison Square, while the neon glow of the theater signs promised an escape at the movies if only I could push through the madness. Everything is spiraling out of reach; even at the filling station, I had to part with $0.15 for a single gallon of gas just to get into the city. Between those soaring prices and the headlines claiming two died in the chaos today, I fear the peace we’ve won is going to cost us more than we can afford to pay.