Sam Reinders

fulton-fish-market: Tucked beneath New York's famed financial district and the steel cables and stone towers of the Brooklyn Bridge, the Fulton Fish Market brought the sidewalks of the East River alive in much the same way for almost two centuries. It was a nighttime cacophony of smoldering cigarettes carrying profanity in their tails, fish soaked ice, Joe Tuna and "Shopping Bag" Annie and other characters like them, grappling hooks and the shrieks of greedy seagulls, forklifts gliding over pockmarked pavements, fedora's, drunken revelers en-route home, scales and propane heaters. And that smell ... a bouquet that lingers even when the market is silent. In 2005, however, the nightly pandemonium here ceased, the seagulls flew away and the market employees, as well as the chefs, restaurateurs, retailers, distributors and tourists that wandered these sidewalks five nights a week, moved to the markets new home at Hunts Point in the Bronx. An era, a slice of New York life, died along with this move.