Yes, he was shot in New Jersey, but who wants to die there?
He was rowed back across the river and died in a house on Jane Street in Greenwich Village. I learned this gem by stopping to look up at a plaque across from a Brownstone where I saw staying during a visit to the city. My first platoon sergeant in the First Cav Division, a Vietnam Vet, taught me to always look up. After all, he lost half his thigh to a sniper up in a tree.
And in New York City, looking up means you’re a tourist, but hey, lots of Native New Yorkers look up too.
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