As I photographed, I knew those vehicles would look so different from whatever would be in existence 40 or 50 years later.

Beneath the surface of "our" New York is everyone else's New York — layers of lives, loves, businesses, and histories we rarely notice.

I realized, in 50 years, the world wouldn't look like it did in the 1970s and 80s.

Nothing lasts forever.

Hand-painted signs are one-of-a-kind art that reflect the skill of the sign painter and the unique identity of a business.

Hundreds gathered on Friday in Riverside Park to commemorate the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising.

Some things have vanished, some are restored and remain.

By 1920 Polly Adler was well on her way to becoming, in her words, “the best goddamn madam in America.”

The Upper West Side apartment Babe Ruth called home for more than a decade is once again on the market.

I wanted to capture it and preserve it for the future. Now it's the future and those days are vanished.

What do a seemingly random collection of words etched into the concrete of a bridge in Riverside South have in common?

The Apthorp mansion was "an exceedingly good house, elegantly furnished, commanding beautiful prospects."

A sense of place is the essence and character of a location and the emotional bonds individuals form with it.

These Upper West Side moms had access to money, lawyers, and the media — their block was brimming with influential neighbors.

A few Thursdays ago, a reader commented that the photos had “so many hats!” "A theme!" I thought.

The city's grid street plan spelled the end for Jauncey Lane, which ran between two new city-planned streets.

I was fascinated by everything on the Upper West Side in those vanished days and I tried to photograph it all,

100 years of The New Yorker; strings at St. John the Divine; a jewel box of a gallery; college hoops!

When it opened in 1900 the Wollaston was said to be in “the choicest and most convenient section of the West Side.” 

This week, Throwback Thursday shifts its focus from people to places that once lined the avenues of the Upper West Side.

Why were stoops a blessing in the late 1800s? Wanna guess?

There’s no rush here, no errands to run, no need to go faster, higher, further. West End Avenue offers respite from the chaos.

I don’t know if it was their clothes, their expessions, their gestures, their postures, but I was impelled to photograph them.

In its long history, the building now occupied by Symphony Space has been a food hall, a restaurant, and an ice skating rink.

This was life! There was a wonderful diversity and humanity and everyone seemed to belong.

We found no motel to lodge us. A Howard Johnson’s diner agreed to serve us, only if I ate in the kitchen.

I simply walked the streets, wherever and whenever I could, and photographed what attracted me, which was almost everything and everyone.

New York has a long history of not giving a pigeon’s butt about the past.

The stores for me were the heart, indeed, the soul of the neighborhood.

At the "Sanskrit College" on West 74th Street people paid $50 to look into a crystal ball for information about loved ones.