Our Slice of Frontier Life — an Upper Wild West Side Story

by Yvonne Vávra

It’s quiet, almost too quiet, in the frontier town of Tarr-Coyne Wild West Playground, near the 93rd Street entrance to Central Park. A single toddler sits buried in thought in the sand by one of the many forts; a gaggle of boys huddles on swings in a far corner, watching TikToks; and a big brother is giving the tire swing everything he’s got, trying to send his sisters flying—maybe clean out of sight. They’re all distracted. This town could easily be taken.

Not that the rest of the country hasn’t already had its eye on it: Tarr-Coyne Wild West is a finalist in USA Today’s Readers’ Choice Awards for best public playground. According to the jury, its wide-open space could have stepped right out of a Sergio Leone film set.

But beyond this Upper West Side frontier, the neighborhood has its own older Wild West story. In fact, the Code of the West—the principles of conduct that pioneers in the Old West prided themselves on—may have found one of its most enduring voices not on the frontier, but right here at the corner of 74th and Columbus. That’s where Zane Grey lived in the early 1900s. A dentist with a passion for writing, he would go on to author many Western bestsellers, playing a crucial role in shaping the frontier myth and the code of cowboy honor that came with it.

As the legend goes, Grey wrote at his kitchen table after long hours battling plaque and cavities, spinning stories about his two passions: cowboys and fish. He kept at it for years without finding anyone willing to listen until, finally, in 1902, Recreation Magazine published his article about a day of fishing on the Delaware River. But that wasn’t the only publication his name appeared in that year. Apparently, Grey had a gripe with street traffic—understandable for a man living on the corner of Columbus Avenue. And he was ready to tackle the problem like a cowboy.

The city was planning to raise the speed limit from eight to 10 miles per hour, and Dr. Grey wasn’t having it. He took part in a postcard poll protesting the proposal, and was quoted in The New York Times: “I was nearly killed by an auto yesterday, and hereafter I shall carry a gun. Nothing but a bullet could have caught this one!”

Fortunately, he left before he could take the gloves off. In 1905, Grey married and ventured further west—beyond Amsterdam Avenue, West End, and Riverside, across the Hudson, all the way to California. He settled in Altadena, where he died doing what he loved… kind of. In October 1939, just after a few practice casts with his fishing line on the porch, he suffered a heart attack and passed away at the age of 67.

By then, Grey had written more than 80 books, sold over 30 million copies, and helped define the Western genre, romanticizing the Wild West for readers around the globe. One of his works, his 1934 novel Code of the West, chronicled the previously unwritten laws that cowboys lived by—laws centered on courage, honesty, loyalty, fair play, respect for others, and a healthy appreciation for the “mind your own business” maxim.

It seems our West Side is built on much the same code—though Rag readers will probably have strong opinions about how well we actually live by it. For what it’s worth, Zane Grey would likely greet us with a satisfied gaze over the land, rocking the confident squint of a man who knows all is right with the world—well, at least when it comes to traffic.

In his time, the streets of the Upper West Side were a hot mess of carriages, trolleys, automobiles, and more. New Yorkers got around on horseback, bicycles, and on foot, and just a block from Grey, at 74th and Central Park West, the very year he moved in, the country saw its first recorded fatal automobile accident.

Of course, accidents still happen, but today the streets aren’t quite the Wild West they once were. Oh, I can hear you taking a sharp breath, ready to let me have it. Still, with traffic lights, crosswalks, lanes, and signage, the streets are practically civilized. At least now we know what we’re supposed to do. Mostly.

Back at Tarr-Coyne Wild West, the town is still wide open—and for the next two weeks, so is the vote. If we come together, we can give this little slice of frontier the recognition it deserves. And if, after all that, you want to channel your inner Zane Grey and sample a little cowboy spirit, all it takes is a three-block walk west to 91st Street. A team of legendary horses is waiting there for you, ready to carry you off into the sunset.

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