The Fountain House

I remember my first visit to New York City. I was 9, and fully convinced I would be a famous Broadway star someday (never mind that my mom outright told me I couldn't sing...whatever). I expected to walk out of our (sweet, sweet) hotel to find the most.fashionable.people.EVER. No such thing. I was shocked to see women in commuting sneakers, the same amount of overweight people, smokers, balding men, and ugly people. I have since re-worked my view of this city to realize that I was both right and wrong.

This city has its fair share of poorly dressed, smoking, dishevelled crazies but only recently did I discover that I might get to see more than usual.

The Fountain House.

Left hand side of the photo. Nice building, this view only shows the entrance, but its pretty big. It's size and condition are a clear indication that its not your normal apartment building. I always had an inkling that it was something different. 

Even in this cutout of the google street view, you can see people out front. There are always people out front.

Once, I overheard a seemingly normal (albeit, a little off) man arguing politely with two police officers. They were offering him a ride to the nearest hospital but he was demanding a helicopter escort and wouldn't take anything less. My "that's odd" trigger went off.

And despite having access to, well basically everything, at my fingertips via Google and my iPhone, I never pursued it farther. Finally, after passing it every day for three months, I caught the name and did google it and,

That's right. There's a world famous mental health institution across the street from my street access, basement apartment. And now it all makes sense.