Walking along the concrete tomb of the Dutch Village of New Utrecht, I look through the rusty wire fencing, ten feet tall yet unable to prevent clothes, trash and beer bottles from being slung into its precinct by the undermen who skulk about. Walking the three sides of the two-acre perimeter, bounded on the fourth by a modern church, it is difficult to envision this land before it was sheathed in concrete, asphalt and brick...
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