As mentioned within the body of the text, my recent entry about Robert Chambers, Jennifer Levin and Dorrian's Red Hand caused me a little bit of concern that I might get a bit of pushback. To this day, 36 years after the fact, the "Preppy Murder" story is one many people would quite prefer not be invoked, discussed or even alluded to in passing. This is not to suggest that Robert Chambers still has his, for lack of a better term, "supporters" (I sincerely hope he doesn't), but that the whole chapter saddled Dorrian's and its literal generations of loyal patrons with a bit of a tenaciously damning reputation. In much the same way the former concierge and staff of the Chelsea Hotel wished people would stop bringing up Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen in tandem with their business, I'm quite sure the familial proprietors of Dorrian's Red Hand quickly soured on the notoriety that came with the bar's seemingly inexorable association with Robert Chambers.
I'm not here to mine that story any further (although you should definitely check out the impending second episode of Desperately Seeking the `80's exhumation of the whole saga). That said, I realized, this morning, that I made a shameful geographical error that needs to be promptly cleared up.
I suggested in the --- good lord -- eleventh, needlessly windy paragraph that Ryan's Daughter, a bar I greatly preferred over Dorrian's, was down the street on East 84th between 1st and 2nd Avenues. This is not at all the case. Dorrian's remains on East 84th Street, while Ryan's Daughter is on East 85th Street, goddammit. Given the amount of time I spent there, back in the day, I should really have remembered that accurately. I realize this is a minor point, but wrong is wrong, and I strive for better.
Being that I haven't lived in the neighborhood in question in 26 years, I cannot say I've stopped in recently, but I am happy to report that Ryan's Daughter is still in business. Their old, vinyl-45 jukebox (which was regularly maintained and updated by a fabulous lady behind the bar with great, punky taste whose name now escapes me) was long-replaced by a more modern machine, but the interior and overall vibe is otherwise unchanged.
Those with a keen eye for detail might still find there a framed cutting from an age-old and long-vanished freebie newspaper called New York Perspectives wherein the bar is rightly praised for being a hidden Yorkville gem and not to bring a "carload of idiots" with you when you come by for a drink. I wrote that one.
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